Thursday, December 31, 2015

Boys on Exhibit

Can you tolerate one more memory from Junior High? I see you are taking a break but I'll go ahead and write it down.

Hell yes!! These are some of my faves, I hope the readers enjoy them too.


I think the coach at my Junior High was tone deaf (as they say today) about nudity and modesty.

He sometimes called people to his office when they didn't have a stitch on. Also he walked around in the locker room while people changed, also taking a look at guys in the showers.

That was seventh and eighth grade when I had to take P.E. Well, the very next year we had to go to take a week (maybe two weeks) of human reproduction classes. Boys were taught of course by that coach and scheduled in the locker room where we all sat on the changing benches.

What I will never forget, he came to circumcision and in the middle of the lesson he calls out two boys, saying "Keller, Delgado, strip real quick." It got absolutely silent in that room. I could not believe what he said and the others must have been just as stunned. This was not P.E. which they would have to change and shower for, it was a class. But he went on telling them

"Hustle, hustle, we haven't got all day."

 Well, I knew that Keller had a good-sized dick because of being with him in P.E. Delgado, I didn't know anything about. Pretty soon, with the coach hurrying them up, he's got them standing on a bench in full view of everybody. Their dicks are hanging in front of us like merchandise at Woolco. And coach is using a ruler to point at their dicks to explain circumcision and male hygiene.

 Delgado's dick was even bigger than Keller's, as well as completely hidden inside its sheath. After a few minutes the coach gives each of them a little swat on the butt with his ruler and says

"Thank you, men."

 Then he tells the whole class to give them a round of applause for being good sports. So there we are clapping for two guys forced to strip in front of 75 or 100 of their peers. All we could whisper about at lunch was not the difference between circumcision and uncircumcision, but our hunch that coach had knowing picked the two largest dicks in the school for his little show and tell exhibit.


Monday, December 28, 2015

Happy Ejaculation Anniversary to Me!

I have been waiting for today, planning to post this. It's December 28, 2015. Just another day for everybody else. But I invite you to celebrate with me the thirtieth anniversary of my first climax and ejaculation.

For Christmas that year one of my gifts was a game in which you put plastic tubes and funnels and mill-wheels together. You build a big construct out of those things and then you drop marbles into the top and watch the marbles work their way through the maze that you made.

Three days after Christmas I was playing with the marble game in my bedroom when I realized my dick had stuck out with a boner. It was just the right size to poke into one of the tubes from the marble game. That seemed real funny to me. I entertained myself by "trying on" various pieces of the marble maze. I stuck my boner into tubes of different colors and different lengths. 

All of this seemed to make my dick feel funny. I kept doing it, putting on or taking off pieces of the game. As my game continued I guess my dick became more erect. After a few minutes I realized that it fit more tightly into the tubes, so tight that I couldn't easily pull a tube off of my erection. 

I was so amused by what I was doing, that I wiggled and shook and played with my dick in its tube, just being real silly, thinking "Wiggle, wiggle, how do you like that!"

But then I started feeling weirdly strange, sort of dizzy, like maybe I was going to throw up or something. I quit playing with my dick (which was tightly wedged in a tube). I went over and lay down on the bed because I felt so weird. 

Because of feeling kind of sick, I had no intention of playing with my dick any more. But it felt like it needed more attention, as if it liked what I had been doing to it.

I lifted the tube and wiggled it a little, just a tiny lift-and-wiggle motion.

GOD! I thought I was having a stroke! My whole body was shaking. My good judgment told me to leave my dick alone, not to touch it again. Maybe I was hurting it by letting it get so hard inside the plastic tube. 

It was impossible to keep my hand away from it. I couldn't leave it alone. It felt enormous, longer and thicker than ever, and it had warmed up the plastic tube which now felt hot in my hand. I argued with my judgment: Just one more little wiggle and I'll quit doing this.

But when I wiggled the plastic tube that encased my rigid erection, instead of making me feel better, the whole world exploded. My body shook like it had chills. I am dying, I thought! At the same time, stuff that I'd never seen before came spewing out of the tube and got all over my clothes.

That was the first time, and it was exactly thirty years ago today. It was not a particularly satisfactory climax because I was frightened so bad. But each time I dared to try it again, it got better and better.

Have a little celebration with me today. A coke, a Starbucks, a piece of cake. Or a nice wank. It's my thirtieth anniversary! 


Okay I'll celebrate, but you owe me a beer for this one. Please no head on it!!


Saturday, December 26, 2015

Eighth Grade PE Managers

A thread based on this story, it could go on forever! Everybody has that certain memory of a past school and I don't mean classes or study hall! Keep posting, people.

Like somebody else, my middle school was an old high school, maybe 100 years old, three floors and basement, restrooms on every floor. The urinals were built into the wall and went all the way down to the floor. You could watch people piss if you were careful. No doors on the stalls so anybody on the pot was fully visible.

 The PE locker room and showers were wide open, a big room with a window to the coach's office. five or six home-rooms of boys in there at the same time, stripping and showering in front of everybody else. Imagine what a shock to sixth grade boys that never saw anything like it until that first gym class and suddenly told to peel naked by the coach's big pushy eighth grade managers. If you did not shower they stripped you and shoved you in with everybody else. Some boys said if the managers caught you they would wash your balls and dick with Lava soap which you would never forget.

I didn't know about puberty and sperm and the whole sex picture. All I knew, this is a something that I have got to see but not get caught looking! Not until eighth grade did I learn what to do about my stiffies. Then it turned out that all those restrooms were hotbeds of buddy jerking and boys in PE were even doing it under the bleachers in the gym. I completely missed what was going on until starting to do it myself.


Friday, December 25, 2015

Boys that Share Christmas Toys

I enjoy this site very much. Here it is, Christmas day, and based on what has happened in my house in the past 24 hours I’m finding myself compelled to contribute a story. 

I have a cousin who is visiting this Christmas from out of town. We both have two children, a boy and a girl. My son is 13 and his son is 14, about 7 months older than my son. We both also have 11 year old daughters. My cousin and I, 25 years ago, were very active wanking buddies, almost exactly at the same age as our two boys are now. My cousin’s family spent Christmas Eve with us, and it was obvious our two boys hit it off together fabulously, excusing themselves after dinner to go up to my son’s room and hang out. (Out of curiosity, after about an hour I went upstairs to check on them. My son’s door was shut and it seemed strangely silent in the room, but there was music playing.) 

It was late this past spring when I noticed some subtle behavior changes in my son. Things like when he’d go into the bathroom to shower and it would be 10 minutes with the door shut before we’d hear the shower water start running. Or, 10 minutes after the shower water stopped running before the door would open. Subtle signs like these made me conclude he had discovered how to “do it”, and that he also was “doing it” quite often.  

The boys finally came back downstairs when it was time for them to leave, and my son excitedly asked if his cousin could stay and spend the night. Everyone seemed agreeable, and the boys excitedly ran right back upstairs. When the two boys came down for breakfast this morning, I saw that my cousin’s boy was now wearing sweats and a shirt that were my son’s. So I knew that they must have at least been stripped down to their underwear together at some point last night. Thoughts ran through my head about how horny and sexual my cousin and I had been together that that age, even trying to sneak away at family gatherings so we could have a quick wank together. 

Now I was wondering if our boys were following in our footsteps, with perhaps the older boy teaching my son a new technique or two. Obviously, I will never know. But it sure brought back memories of two young oversexed teenage boys who could hardly wait to get together and mess around with their pants pulled down, a quarter of a century ago. 


Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Bowling Alley Buds

I guess many of us have a painful loss like that. For me it was seeing the local bowling alley torn down. I hadn't bowled since eighth grade, but part of me died when they put up a chain-link fence all around the place and started ripping it apart with a big Cat ram.

I was in a league in eighth grade. We practiced a couple of days after school every week. Competitions were on Saturday. One afternoon I went in the restroom to piss. I stood at a urinal right next to the first toilet stall. The walls were covered with green ceramic tile, real shiny. I started pissing and suddenly thought, what the hell! It was like looking in a mirror. The tile reflections showed somebody sitting in the stall, and his arm was going back and forth just enough for me to know exactly what he's doing. I finished pissing but could not believe how hard I was getting. I stayed a couple more minutes watching that guy's arm and his obvious wanking. Right away I got a huge boner and knew had to jack off.  I rolled one out in record time, shooting a load right into the urinal while the other feel good guy's reflection is right in my line of sight.

Afterwards I went back to my practice but watched to see who came out of the restroom. It was the pin boy, Devin! He walked along the wall, back to his place behind the pin setting machines.

What I also didn't know at the time, there was a small hole in the metal wall, which means Devin was checking me out while letting me know what he was doing.

Every time we practiced I watched for him. If Devin went to the restroom I was right after him to see if he would do it. I didn't know anything about having a jerk buddy, I was just fixed on seeing if he was going to jack off in the stall so I could watch his arm and myself get real horny.

It took us a while, but he figured me out and came out of the stall one day and stood right by me. Devin was some older than me, but not old enough to have a legal job. However his grandfather owned the lanes and let him work there.

On days we didn't practice I sometimes went on to the lanes anyway so my friend and me could have a nice time together. He would watch to see if I came in and then he took his break. He was my very first buddy and the bowling alley was my very first place. We got to be excellent cum buds, helping each other have a good one.

It was many years later that they tore down the lanes. That was a kick in the balls for me #1 because part of my past was gone and #2 to think that there would never be any other boys becoming pals in that restroom.


Saturday, December 19, 2015

Visiting My Past

After Thanksgiving, while coming back from the family gathering, I made a detour off the interstate and down an old highway. I wanted to cruise the town where we lived when I was a young teen. It was a busy place back then but time has passed it by. It’s gone downhill fast. The primary employer closed. People lost their jobs and moved their families away. It will soon be a ghost town. But there was something I felt I had to do there in honor of old times, something that only a person who used to be a boy could possibly understand.

I drove to the old junior high where I spent my pubertal years, the wondrous days when boys are just discovering what it's all about. Those days are big memories for me and I was looking forward to
enjoying my past while cruising that school. Unfortunately, actually seeing it was a real letdown, an absolute bummer. Kids don’t even go to school in that town anymore; they’re bus-ed to a bigger place. My old junior high is empty, condemned, falling to pieces. Plywood nailed over the windows. Trees and juniper bushes so thick around the steps that I could hardly see the chained and padlocked front door. Parking lot sprouting weeds. Birds nesting in the eaves. Graffiti all over the place.

I stopped and got out to walk around. Saplings and brush cover the football field where I once sweated out terribly hot August drills and then would jog to the field house to shower in lighthearted nakedness with dozens of other guys. Now the field house windows are broken and there’s not a kid in sight.

Next I committed a crime. The cellar door under the back entrance to the main building was standing partway open where somebody else had already forced their way in. By stepping through that door I “broke and entered” - I entered my past.

Lighting my way with my phone’s torch, I climbed across junk, past the rusted furnace, through puddles of water, up the stairs to the first floor. Books, chairs, old projectors and tape recorders were strewn up and down the hall. Smashed typewriters. Flatened world globe. Most doors kicked in.Walls tagged with spray paint.

Here's Miss Johnson's music room. The piano is on its back, keys and hammers torn to pieces. Mrs. Davis's social studies room. The big roller-shade type maps ripped into shreds and scattered among a senseless pile of rusty desks and mildewed encyclopedias. Every classroom, same story.

And now, the boys' restroom. Its outer door scrapes the warped floor, won't open all the way, but just enough. I slide through sideways. Then through the second door. How familiar this all was for three years long ago.

Some of the partitions have fallen loose from the wall. Some fixtures are broken. A load of ancient dried-out turds lie petrified in a dry toilet bowl. Mirror shattered. Chunks of ceiling plaster laying on the floor. Everything I see makes me sorry that I came, but there’s something I have to do.

 See, despite the desolation, this restroom is the one place I must visit, the one room I must enter, the one destination above all others in this dying town. I have to stand at the urinal in honor of the good days.

I unzipped my fly and pulled ol' Woody out. Ears alert for police boots coming to find out why there's a pickup parked outside this abandoned place.

I turned off the phone's light and stood in deepest blackness, feeling myself becoming erect and willing my boner to recapture the breathless anticipation of the years when I was in seventh, eighth and ninth grade.

Go ahead and do it, I tell myself. So I begin the time-honored rite of adolescent boys, blotting out the decay and rubbish, aiming my tool at the unseen trough on the trashed wall.

Pumping now. Actually doing it in this long-forsaken restroom.

Sammy, this is for you, in honor of the day when two extremely nervous seventh graders stood at this urinal and pretended that neither of us knew what the other was doing. That was my first encounter
with you, Sammy (hell, my first encounter with anybody), the beginning of many happy moments together. Moments when this room was squeaky clean and we were besties.

Gordon, this is for you. People called you a sissy because of the way you moved and talked. But you were very special to me, Gordon, a ninth grader sitting in a stall, showing off your erection, beckoning me to come close so you could give me an incredible blow job, the first of several that you kindly bestowed on my hard little stiffie. In this very bathroom.

Douglas, this is for you. You were such a nice, “good citizen” kind of boy, yet you watched me time and time again while I pumped myself for you, Douglas. You squeezed your fly, rubbed your junk, watched every stroke I took, but you were too nice to show me your own arousal. I craved your attention, loved every minute that you watched me masturbate in this room. I felt like I was giving you a thrill that you wouldn’t otherwise have, and that made it a thrill for me too. Right here at this very pee-trough.

Sammy, Gordon, Douglas, I’m about to ejaculate. This cumshot in the old junior high boys’ room is for you. You three and a bunch more. Some of you, I can't even remember your names. But I remember what we did to mutually satisfy our needs. We didn't realize it at the time, but we owned heaven for a minute or two in the junior high restroom. And now I stand here alone, reaching a solitary climax in a desolate place, feeling very strangely emotional.

I zipped up and made my way back through the cellar and out of the crumbling building, wondering:
Did I do that for Sammy and Gordon and Douglas, or did I do it for myself?

Who knows........

One thing I do know, and I haven’t completely figured it out yet: after leaving the boarded-up building, it took me twenty miles along the old two-lane highway to get the tears out of my eyes.

Anonymous Author

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

The Guys' Tea-room Stains

Speaking of "the poor staff in a Maccy D's" Comment.

One of my cousins worked for a sanitation service for about a year during college. The company furnished a van full of cleaning supplies and equipment. He took night classes for a better career later, but for now he would drive around all day on his route - office buildings, little retail stores, auto shops, some big stores. Some he cleaned every day while others were on a less frequent schedule.

Oh, the stories he would tell. One I remember, he knocked and yelled before entering a ladies' room, but when he walked in, there was a totally naked homeless woman bathing herself at the lavatory. Another time he found a young boy sitting on the lip of a urinal to take a shit.

My favorite was his ongoing battle with the mess left by masturbating boys in the Men's room at a free-standing big-box store. It was only a couple of blocks from a high school, and served as the "active" tearoom for horny boys who liked partaking in a mutual wank after school.  Plus there were other guys who hung out to enjoy what the boys were up to.

My cousin's route took him to that store mornings, after the previous day's cum had dried overnight. He told about scrubbing desiccated ejaculate off the floor, walls, partitions and fixtures. Also he removed messages penned on the wall. He scrubbed the sheet-rock walls so many times that there was no paint left on the wall next to one of the toilets. There was even cum in the corners of the room where guys had shot their load while watching other people's action.

I got a secret charge from hearing him tell about that store, because I was in the tenth grade that year and was one of the boys who made a beeline for that restroom as soon as school was out. I'm sort of embarrassed when he brings up those stories now, 'cuz part of the cum he scrubbed away was mine!

Anonymous Mess Maker

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

The Looking Game

 In my seventh grade there was a huge change. I would be no longer be going to the one room school house that I was so accustomed to. Instead I would be going to much larger school.

  On the very first day of school. I was going to be shown around the school by a eighth grader. I was teamed up with Jake, who was a very tall and thin boy.  The very first thing I asked Jake was,
“Were is the boys bathroom! Because I have to pee really bad.”

 He looked down at me and told me the bathroom is in the basement. So he showed me the way.
 When we entered the bathroom I went up to a urinal and as quickly that I took my dick out of my jeans, I started to pee. He went to the urinal rightnext to me and he also started to pee.   I wanted to take a peek at his dick to see how big it was. But Instead I kept my eyes glued to the wall In front of me.
 “ Boy! you sure did have to pee.” Jake said.

 “I sure did, You see I have this problem.”

 Then he turn and looked at me and asked me,
 “What problem is that?”

 When I turned to answer his question. I got to see his dick. It was big, but I didn't stare, It was just a quick look. So I said,
  “I have this peeing problem. Whenever I need to pee I have to get to the bathroom right away. Because I can't hold my pee for very long.”

He looked at me and just smiled, and said,
 “That can be a problem. I don't mind……. I get to go to the bathroom when ever I want to.”  Then he asked me a question about what I did on the farm.

I turned to answer him. That‘s when I got to see his dick for the second time.  I told him all about what I did on the farm.   He asked me if I ever saw the animals fucking.

 “ Hell yes I saw the animals fucking all the time. There isn't much on a farm that you don't see and do.”

  We finished our tour of the school. I thanked him for the tour.  From that day on, when ever I would have to go to the bathroom, I always hoped that Jake would be there. Sometimes I would get s nice surprise when I walked into the bathroom, he would be there peeing. If we were alone, he would turn and say Hi. I would always get a really good look at his dick. Sometimes he would be playing with his dick like when a guy jacks-off. Then I would walk up to the urinal next to him and take out my dick to pee. He always asked me questions what it was like in my old school. What I did there for fun. I would just say lots of stuff. He would just give me a smile. This went on for a couple of weeks.

  It was getting close to the end of the day and I had to take a pee. While I was standing there peeing, in walks Jake. He stood beside me and asked me if I could stay after school.
I didn’t hesitate with my reply,
 “I sure can. Mom is going to pick me up in about an hour.”

 “Meet me down here right after school I have something to show you.”

 “Ok!” is all I said.

 After school was out, I made our meeting. As soon as I walked into the bathroom Jake was standing there waiting for me.
 I asked him what he had to show me?

"Follow me I’ll show you.”

 We went to the Field house by the Athletic field. Then he says,
 “ I’m the team captain for the Football team, so coach gave me a key…. No one will see us in here.”

I guess I must have looked confused to him, I still never thought he wanted anything from me, or to do anything with me. 

So, after a pause, he looked at me and blurts out,
 “You have been looking at my dick when I pee, and well…I‘ve been looking at your dick while you pee.  He paused again,  
 “So, umm…You want to see my dick now?”

 All I could say was,

 We both took off our pants, stood there facing each other in our underpants.  In unison we drew our underpants down. As soon as the elastic bands passed our hard dicks, both of them stuck straight out.

 We stood there looking at each others dick for a little while.  Then we reached over grabbed each others dick started to play with each others boner. I couldn't wait any longer. I knelt down in front of him and held his dick close to my mouth. I opened my mouth and started to suck on his dick.

He let out a slight yell!
 "Damn that feels so good" .

 I sucked on his dick until I had all of his dick in my mouth, then I started to play with his fuzzy balls.
 I felt his legs starting to get shakey. I knew he was almost ready to cum. He reached down and held my
 “I‘m gonna cum.”

He drew a couple of deep breaths, and arched his back then I felt his hips push hard into me, jamming his hard dick deep into my mouth. I felt the first squirt of his hot cum hitting the back of my throat. He kept on shooting and shooting his load. When he as all done. His breaths were longer and his arms released limp beside my face.  He slowly pulled his dick out of my mouth. He sat down next to me and seemed to stare at me….
 “Damn that was the best blow job I ever had.”

He took a hold of my dick, and started to play with it. He told me to lay back. Then he started to suck on my cherry-red dick. He reaches between my legs and starts to play with my balls. It didn't take long for me to start shaking. I looked at him working on my dick and said between huffs,
 “I ‘m almost…….. ready ta cum….”

He started to suck faster and harder.

 I yelled out,
 “Here it comes!!”

I felt my first squirt and then another squirt and another one. When I finally finished my climax. I just fell back and couldn't move for a little while.  We laid there next to each other. He asked me, how the hell did I know how to give such great blow jobs.

 I just said I have lots of experience. I also asked him the same question.

He said
“Beginners Luck, or wouldn’t  you like to know…..?”

Friday, December 11, 2015

The Promise Keepers Secrets

A number of years ago when I was either in late middle school or early high school there was a religious movement called True Love Waits which was supposed to help teens avoid premarital sex. My mother enrolled me for the course. There were probably 20 or so kids who spent all day Saturday at the church. We divided into gender groups and went from one class to another, listening to guest speakers, having discussions and finally taking the pledge.

One of the boys, Robert, was (as my grandfather used to say) "Hardly old enough to piss." It didn't seem possible that he was even into puberty yet, much less having sexual thoughts. I figured that his parents sent him even though he wasn't ready. He paid attention to the preachers and knew all the Bible verses, but he seemed to be just a little boy.

A young preacher conducted a session on ways to deal with the sex urge (take a cold shower, read a book, start a project to keep your mind occupied. I really only remember one thing he said, and it's the only thing I got out of the whole day. It went roughly like this: "You boys have already discovered a method of relieving yourself of the urge to have intercourse. You have discovered that your own right hand is your best friend in dealing that urge." He paused and looked around to see if we were keeping up with him. Then he went on. "I'm talking about..." Dramatic pause this time. "Masturbation."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Several of us were occasional wank buddies. We kept staring straight at the preacher, not moving a hair, not daring to look around and see if any of the boys were smiling or staring at each other. Not one of us showed the slightest reaction.

Robert said, "What's masher-something, masper-thingy?"
At lunch we boys were all at a table together with that young preacher. In the middle of the meal little Robert piped up, happy as you please, and asked: "What's masher-something, masper-thingy?"

Nobody said a word. Finally the preacher answered. "Every boy at this table could answer that question, but they are pretending they don't know what you're talking about." He leaned over and whispered something in Robert's ear.

Robert went ballistic, his eyes wide. "Jacking off!" he said, loud enough for everybody in the room to hear. "You mean when I-- I mean, when you-- When a guy--" He held his hand up and moved it back and forth in the air.

The boy was absolutely scarlet red. His face could have started a fire.

"I didn't know that's what it was," he said, getting ready to cry. "I didn't know!"

"But now you do know, Robert. Let your hand be your best friend when you get tempted to do the wrong thing with a girl."

That Saturday we learned several interesting things: (1) Preachers know the phrase "jacking off." (2) Robert, despite all appearances, was already a jacker himself. (3) Preachers know that boys do it. (4) At least one preacher thinks it's a good thing.

I have been glad of his validation ever since. As for poor little Robert, he was embarrassed out of his mind, but made the day memorable for us.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Dude you are CRAZY!

This nice essay is another proof that masturbation is a vital necessity in a boy's life. Not a matter of flawed character, sinning or weak will power!

I was SOOO horny from about 14 to 16 that a few times I actually did it twice in a row. Not like hours later, but RIGHT AWAY!

The first time that happened, I just had my very first wank with another guy (totally random at a video arcade). I can't explain how it came to happen, but we were both in the restroom of this arcade, maybe we both stayed there wigglin' it,  longer than just doing a piss. Soon we were wanking our boners. It looked to me like we were both bout the same size, and I guess both needed a cum. It's not like there should be any rules for restroom wanking. Only, just don't really make eye-contact.

Sometimes at school restrooms it was a guys hair or how smooth his arms were, did the trick for when I was wanking alone at home. But here seeing a dude feeling what I was. Then Oh-Uh-Mmm-Gah, I launched a long white cum stream into the urinal. I guess seeing that helped this dude, he cummed right after me. Our arms touched when he shook the last drops. That was not much contact, but the warmth and softness of his skin seemed electric. I felt a little inner glow out of that wickedly chanced bodily connection.

 Within seconds of leaving the bathroom I was still sexually high and mega horny like I had never done it. I went back into a stall and jacked myself again. Not sure if it was me thinking of that other dudes cum shot, or how random it was for us both. I just needed to shoot again. Well, I got a nice climax and good shot the second time too.

 All the while telling myself, Dude you are CRAZY, you know that? You are completely DEE-mented!

(A scant comment into story by-)

Sunday, December 6, 2015

The Tickle-Bug Game

The summer I was twelve I went to boy’s camp. There were six of us dudes in a small shack of a cabin. Our cabin leader was Howard, only two or three years older than the rest of us. His job wasto be a big brother and keep us in line.

Howard played a game with us the first night. The lights were out and everybody was in their bunks. He tiptoed around and whispered to a guy, “The tickle-bug is going to get you!” The kid tried to resist being tickled, and all hell broke loose. Howard eventually tickled the guy’s feet or tummy or something. Then he moved on to another boy.

Everybody was wide awake, laughing and calling out “Me, me,” waiting to see if the tickle-bug was going to visit them.
By the second night everybody was playing tickle-bug, sneaking up on each other to do a little tickling. Howard was not playing this time, just laying in his sleeping bag, but he had a new element to add to the game. He told us that we could ask each other if the tickle-bug could touch them in their private place, just on the outside of their underwear. If they said yes, the tickle-bug could give them a nice friendly tickle down below. If they said no, we had to respect their wishes and move on to somebody else.

Very soon everybody was into this new level of tickle-bug, copping a private feel of each other’s tightie whities. It was a first for me, both doing the feeling and getting felt.

Howard’s next rule was that those who wanted to, could take off their underwear and see if the tickle-bug dared to tickle their bare privates. That took us by surprise and resulted in a lot of snickering. But we went for it. Some stayed in bed and some got up and walked around naked to see who wanted to touch or be touched. Six naked boys playing tickle-bug, while wrestling about, most of us sprouting little boners. Our lone counselor peacefully laying in his bed by himself.

We still had two more nights. At bedtime on the last couple of evenings we all got into our sleeping bags as bare as Adam. Within minutes boys were playing naked tickle-bug, going from one guy to another, some with their boners sticking out, exploring each others crotches.

What about Howard, who started all of this? Except for tickling feet and tummies the first night, he had remained completely covered in his sleeping bag while naked boys played tickle-bug, giggling and goosing and tickling each other.

I was a very naive dweeb at the time, so I didn’t know what Howard was doing, but I knew he was doing something inside that bag.

How did I know? Because in the dim light I could see a slight mound of sleeping bag lifted up right over his crotch, just a small hump. The mound moved around a lot, maybe bulging to the right or the left or wiggling on top. Some sort of unknown activity was taking place under the mound, right where Howard’s private business was located. At the same time, Howard’s eyes kept watch on the naked,tickling, erect boys.

I was kneeling next to a bunk near Howard’s on the last night, my hand inside a sleeping bag where a dude had invited me to play tickle-bug with his little stiffie. Howard was not three feet away, watching the whole room. The hump over his privates had grown during the time that we’d been playing tickle-bug. It had risen a lot higher than I had previously noticed and was vigorously bumping at a steady tempo. The earlier small mound had grown into an unmistakable mountain of sleeping bag that pulsed and quivered constantly above our leader’s crotch.

Suddenly Howard exhaled an audible stream of breath and stopped bumping. The mountain over his crotch sagged down. It became a mere hump for a moment and then disappeared altogether as Howard brought his hands out into the open, holding what appeared to be a wad of toilet paper in one hand. Immediately he told us, “That’s enough, guys. Shorts on and into your own beds now. I'm going to sleep”

None of us ever saw Howard’s junk and he never touched anything he shouldn’t. But that tickle-bug game was a masterful invention that must have added substantial enjoyment to his bedtime habit throughout the summer.


Saturday, December 5, 2015

My Silent Count Down to Ejaculation

Throughout my most horny years, I had to share a double bed with a little brother. He was an unplanned addition to the family, seven years younger than me. When I began wanking in the seventh grade he was not even in first grade yet. Much of my energy throughout middle school and high school was spent on making sure that he never knew what I was doing when nature called at night.

 I did most of my jacking in the shower. But there were times when I simply had to shoot a load in bed. This was really true in the dead of winter when our house got freezing cold overnight. In the early hours of morning I would have to get up and go to the bathroom. My dick would be stiff and I would sit on the pot and try to make it relax so I could piss. I would be so cold that I was shivering.

When I got back in bed under the warm covers, my boner wouldn't leave me alone. I knew I was going to have to "do it." Laying on my back with a couple of tissues in my left hand, I held the covers up very slightly and started jacking. Tiny little strokes, not enough to shake the bed. Just barely moving my fingertips and trying not to get tense. I was scared of making any motion, scared even to move my feet or get a different grip on my boner.

I was alert to my brother's breathing pattern. If he moved or rolled over or made the slightest noise, the hump in my covers collapsed and I lay there holding my pulsing erection but not making the slightest motion. Gradually he would resume steady breathing. I'd raise the covers again and continue the tiny little jiggles on my horny dick.

Due to the very light stroking that I did, it took me several minutes to get fully primed. Finally I was on the verge of cumming. This was the critical time, the most dangerous moment. What if he woke up right when I was ejaculating? I wouldn't be able to stop. But it never happened. I would get ready for the climax. Would remind myself not to shake, not to jerk, not to flinch when the stuff shot out.

My left hand moved to hold the tissues around the tip of my dick. Sometimes I would count down to the instant of ejaculation: Getting there, getting there! Max sensations! So good, so freakin' good!!! Three! Two! One! Aaah! Cumming! Oh, Hallelujah, CUMMING!

I lay there without moving for a minute or two. Sometimes I went back to sleep with my fingers around my dick and woke up later still holding onto my guilty organ. But usually I got another tissue to wrap around the two cummy ones. Then put my tool back in my underpants and dropped the evidence on the floor until getting up and taking it to the bathroom to drop it in the toilet.

I'm certain my brother never knew what was going on.


Thursday, December 3, 2015

It was Milk......Everywhere!

I became best friends with this boy named David in 5th grade, and in 7th grade we also became jerk-off buddies. We were inseparable, and in 8th grade it became almost a tradition that we spent almost every Friday night together. 

Either he'd come over my house or I'd go over his house after school, and we'd stay all night. The recently posted story reminded me of one time when we challenged each other on a Monday at school not to masturbate all week, so we could give each other "a really good one" on Friday.It was difficult, but we both did it. 

That Friday he came over to my house after school. Although we had planned to wait until bedtime we found that impossible. My mom had shopping to do so we were home alone. We quickly ended up in my room, naked on my bed, and doing it together in one of our favorite ways. I was laying on the bed and he was sitting on top of me so that I could put lotion on both of our stiff dicks and massage both of them together with just one hand. We'd try to time it so we'd cum right at the same time, so I concentrated on getting myself pretty close then took cues from him to get him really close, too. When he told me he was about to cum I started stroking both of our dicks really hard and fast, and we both did start to cum almost exactly at the same time. And we both had GUSHERS! Our combined cum flew all over my chest and some of it hit me in the face. You couldn't tell what cum was his and what was mine, but there was loads of it everywhere. It felt fantastic, and we laughed over how much cum I had all over me. Then we wiped it all up with my hidden cum-rag and got dressed.

That night my parents took us out to Pizza Hut for dinner. Sitting at the table across from my mom, she started staring at me, then she reached over and started touching my hair. "What did you get in your hair? It's all clumped and stiff over on this side." Uh oh, I immediately knew what it must be, but I obviously couldn't tell her. David spoke up and told a quickly made-up story about some kid whose chocolate milk "exploded" at our lunch table that day, and reminding me that some of it had also hit me in the face. I looked at David, gave him a big smile, and agreed that must be what it was that landed not only on my face, but also in my hair. (We both knew exactly what it really was.) 


Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Sam Stayed the Night

 I was outside climbing in the apple trees, When Grandma came outside to tell me that Sam was going to be coming down to play with me this afternoon. He wanted to know if he could spend the night with you. I told him that he could spend the night.

"When will he be here", I asked Grandma.

 "Anytime now", she answered back.

Sam was the oldest of all ten boys in his family. He was thirteen and I was twelve.

Sam had arrived and we played out in the Apple Orchard and down by the creek until it was time to eat dinner and get ready for bed. But before bed we both had to take a bath. Grandma said we both had a stink, but she was frugal so we had to take our bathes together We were standing by the bath tub naked. Sam's dick was sticking straight out in front of him. He looked at me,
“What are you looking at?”

“Your dick! It is so big.”

 He just smiled. I noticed him looking at my hard dick. So I asked him what he was looking at?

 “Your hard dick.”

 I smiled back at him.

We finished our bathes and went on to bed. I shut the bed room door behind us. We both stood by the bed in our underpants. I could tell that his dick was getting hard. He noticed me looking at his underpants. He just smiled, but he was looking at my hard dick in my underpants.

I started to take my underpants off.

 “Why are you taking your underpants off? He asked me.

 “I have a peeing problem and sometimes I pee the bed. Grandma says why dirty another pair of underpants. I hope I don't pee the bed tonight.”

 “If you do it is ok I wont get mad if you do.” I gave him a hug.

 “What's that for?”

  “For being understanding.”

Since you sleep with no underpants on. I am not going to either. So He also took his underpants off. We both stood there naked with our hard dicks sticking straight out,  and just looking at each others hard-on for a little while. Then after we each had a good eyeful, we both got into bed.

Then Sam did something that really surprised me. He reached over and grabbed my hard dick. He reached down and started to play with my balls. He whispered in my ear.
 “I want you to suck my dick. Will you also swallow my cum?”

I reached down and took his hard dick in my hand. Then I started to play with his balls.

”Do you like my dick and balls?” he asked me.

 “I sure do, You also have a very nice dick and I really like your balls they feel so nice.” I just smiled at him.

 “Do you know how to suck my dick while I suck your dick at the same time?”

“ I sure do.”

I turn myself around and started to suck on his hard dick. I felt his hot mouth starting to suck on my hard dick. I didn't have to suck very long until I felt his dick getting harder. He stops sucking on my dick and told me he was going to cum. I started to suck faster and faster.
 “ I'm going to cum.” he whispered.

 Just then I felt his hot cum hitting the back of my throat. I swallowed every drop of his cum. He pulled my mouth off his dick. His dick was still hard.
 “I want to suck it some more…”

“You can later but right now I have to rest a little.” as he stretched his arms over his head, and landed one arm around me.

We laid next to each other real close, All the while laying next to each other, we were playing with each other hard dick and balls.

He asked me if I wanted to do something else.
 I just smiled and said,
 “Yes I would like to do something else……..”

Monday, November 30, 2015

Jacking with Pals or Besties

While reading these stories I had an interesting thought. I don't know if it was this way with the rest of you, but I had two very separate varieties of masturbation partners.

With some of my jacking friends, there was really no emotional element. We were just a couple of boys who happened to get stiffies, so as a practical solution we jacked off together. I'm pretty sure we just masturbated primarily to relieve the pressure rather than to express our friendship.

But with the other type of friend, masturbation was an important part of any close boy/boy relationship, even an expression of "Love" if you'll let me use that word. We each made sure the other guy received maximum pleasure. We helped each other get aroused. If we were each jacking our own dick at the same time, we picked up signs of the other guy's approaching climax and tried to time things so that we would cum together. And if one of us was jacking the other one, we experienced a strange thing -- at least I did. If I was jacking a really close pal, the feeling of his stiff boner in my moving hand, got me harder and harder. Watching his face, hearing his breath, listening to his vocalizations -- it all took me beyond simple arousal and into the realm of subconsciously "bonding" with the other guy. It was important to me that my friend received pleasure. Sometimes I had an unexpected emission of sperm due to getting so horny while I brought the other guy to a climax. But usually before that could happen, the other guy would take hold of my stiff boner and make sure I had a good orgasm of my own.

One of my friends was such a close pal in the sexual sense, that we made "Dates" to get together. When we spent the night with each other we were stiff before ever getting in bed. We would tickle and rub and feel and tantalize each other so lightly that we finally arrived at absolutely unbearable erections and barely had time to exchange a few strokes until we ejaculated in grand bursts of young adolescent cum.

I can still feel myself becoming harder and harder every second while working a good friend's dick to the point of sensory explosion.

I'm glad I had both kinds of pals. The "casual" jackers were important because sometimes all you needed (or had time for) was a quick cumshot. But it was the other ones that helped me learn intimacy and mutual fulfillment.

Viva jacking buddies!


Friday, November 27, 2015

Thankful of our New Discovery

It is Thanksgiving Holidays which reminded me of a memory about my cousin that is almost my exact age (couple months difference).

Growing up we lived a long distance apart (different states) and we would only see each other at Holidays, but not always every year. I can't think what started it, but we got raunchy like boys will do. Playing with each others dong in secret and sometimes if we got to share a bed, it got really fun under the covers.

Well time rocked along and it was about two years that we didn't see each other. I had learned how to jack off and with Thanksgiving coming, I started thinking about those times, so I was really glad he got tome come visit us that year.

 As soon as we saw each other I told him,
“I got something to show you, you won't believe.”

 We sneaked in the upstairs bathroom together and both dropped our pants. I thought I would show him something he never knew about, how to jack off. Guess what, he had already found it out too and figured to show me. We wiggled down our white undies and out pops 2 boners, each with a little spray of dark hairs at the base. He told me my dick sure grew bigger (we both had boners, real hard ones) so I told him well so did yours. His felt a lot better and harder than when we were little.

We had some fun that Thanksgiving, helping shoot one out when ever there was a chance……


Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Damp Spots on my Pajamas

 I was 13 and in 7th grade. Somehow, I seemed to start getting erections after going to bed, and I'd slip my erect penis out of the slit in my pajama bottoms and start squeezing the tip. This seemed to make my penis "flex" just as a reflex to my squeezing of the tip, and then my penis would relax on its own just as it had clamped up on its own. It seemed to feel pretty good when I squeezed it and released it like that, so every night I'd do that, maybe a couple dozen times. Then I'd put my erection back in my pajamas and drift off to sleep.

But I remember one night I just seemed compelled to keep squeezing it, over and over. It seemed to feel really good, especially when I'd squeeze-and-release fast and repeatedly. I then began to notice that my penis seemed to be staying "flexed" a split second longer each time, and it was feeling real nice so I kept doing it, Then, all of a sudden, after one squeeze, my penis flexed and relaxed, but then on its own it flexed again! And then it rhythmically flexed and relaxed all by itself maybe about a dozen times. It never did that before, and I also had this strange feeling that came over my whole body, and I was breathing real hard, too.

 I just laid there for a while, sort of catching my breath, and then I went to put my penis back inside my pajamas. That's when I noticed what felt like dampness or wet spots on my pajamas. I turned on the light and sure enough, I discovered damp spots on my pajamas. Oh my gosh! I guess I peed a little bit when that happened! (I had no idea that it was my cum.)

 I did this again the next night, and the same thing happened, and I thought I felt wetness again. So again I turned on my light, but this time I also noticed a strange, gooey, cloudy liquid was still oozing out of my penis. This was definitely not piss. That was when I first started to put together what some of the kids at school were saying about doing this thing they called "jacking off", and realized this was maybe what I had just done.


Monday, November 23, 2015

Dressed up Boys- Play Lady

This may not match the aims of your blog. If it doesn't, just dump it.

I believe this is an OOTS First. I have known a few guys who played with dressing up as kids, I think it's amusing, even entertaining. But, ummm not for me.

When I was around 8 and 9 years old I sometimes went in my mother's closet and put on one of her dresses. I liked to play "lady" and clomp around the house in high heels. For Halloween one year I decided to dress as a woman, specifically my grandmother because she was very small. I borrowed one of her dresses and hats, got my mom's high heels and a big beaded purse. Also I wore a veil over my face. I thought I was really going to have fun. But my mother informed me that my father did not like for me to play "lady," so the plan fell through(he never mentioned it to me himself).

That was the end of playing "lady" until a peculiar party in the sixth grade. It was at the end of the school year and the PTA ladies sponsored what they called a Switch party where boys dressed like women and girls dressed like men. It may have been a dance - I don't remember all the details. What I do remember is the ladies getting all us boys ready. Not only did we dress like women, but many of us wore wigs. Those that did not have a wig got their hair powdered so they looked like old gray-headed women. Plus, we went through a makeup room where we were painted with lipstick, rouge, powder, eye shadow, etc. I thought it was a hoot. The main thing I remember was looking in the mirror and discovering that I looked like my mother. I doubt if that kind of party would be condoned in a public school today.

When I was in college, some of us went to New Orleans on Spring Break. I was intrigued by the female impersonators in the clubs - they were better-looking than the real women! I envied them getting all dolled up in women's clothes.


Friday, November 20, 2015

Just a Single Squeeze

The accounts of first climaxes and ejaculations are wonderful because every experience is different, even if only in a small way. As I read each story I become personally involved in your experience and draw strength from knowing that all of us - TODOS! - share certain wonderful things despite language or skin color. My thanks to everyone who writes for this blog.

I've never talked with anyone who had a "first" like mine. I was in the sixth grade, late spring, not long after my twelfth birthday. My circumcised dick was still small, except that its head seemed to be larger in diameter than its shaft. But none of my junk was actually mature yet.

 I was swimming with a group of friends at a public pool. Needing to urinate, I left the pool and went into the shower building. I stood at the long urinal to piss, producing a perfectly normal tank of pee.

By the time I had finished pissing, though, my dick felt really odd. I felt of it and discovered that it had gotten bigger during urination and in fact was still growing, becoming longer and more solid as I examined it. This is my first remembrance of an erection, although I must have already been having them.

My dick became tightly erect while I stared at it and felt of it. I took my hand off of it and stood there a minute doing nothing, my head bent over to stare at my penis, wondering what had happened to my dick and whether I ought to grab my stuff and run home. The erection absolutely scared me. With no thought at all of what might happen, I put my right hand around my stiff peter and gave the organ a hard squeeze. Just a single squeeze.

Instantly my body spasmed as if all my nerves and muscles cramped at the same time. Simultaneously a stream of peculiar liquid shot explosively out of my little penis and splattered on the wall. At the second that the cum-shot blasted out, I felt like the breath had been sucked out of me and my heart had quit beating. I believed I was about to die.

"HIJOLE!" I thought, frightened out of my mind. "You somehow ruined your PENE!" (Spanish was my first language, but by this time I was totally proficient in English. And yet my mind reached back at that moment of crisis for two Spanish words from my very early years.)

Notice that I never pumped or wiggled or played with my dick. I gave it nothing but one squeeze, and my immature body immediately climaxed and ejaculated a spray of cum all over the wall above the trough.

That night I couldn't sleep. I was scared to even urinate. I woke my oldest brother who was maybe 17. By then I was crying. I told him something was wrong with my PENE. It didn't take him long to get the story out of me. He had me pull down my pants so we could look at my little wisps of hair. Soon we were hugging the old Mexican way. He congratulated me that I was becoming a man.

For the next couple of years my body was on sort of a hair trigger. Whenever I needed to masturbate (which was frequent) I put only my thumb and two or three fingers on my waiting erection. With hardly any pressure at all, I jiggled my fingers up and down a few times and reached a climax within seconds. None of my jacking friends ever matched my speed.


A Friday Funny

A Joke provided by a Reader

Grandfather: Umm, question... why is there underwear in the freezer?

Grandmother: Nelson got gum stuck in his underpants. I'm freezing them so the gum will be easier to get out.

Grandfather: Ah, well, I was going to have an ice cream bar, but I've changed my mind.

What makes this so hilarious is trying to imagine what the kid was doing that resulted in having gum stuck in his underwear!

Thursday, November 19, 2015

I Always Wanted Him

 Before I get to me story, I want you all to know that I went to a one room school house for my first six years of schooling.

 There were 18 of us boys from first grade through the eighth grade. The bathroom was an outhouse that sat up on the hill away from the school house. I remember when I was in the fourth grade. I had already sucked just about every boy in school. Except this one boy Jerry who was in the eighth grade. I always wanted to suck his pecker. By the looks in his jeans it looked really big. Every time he would catch me looking at his pecker pouch, he would start to rub it, to making it all hard.... and then he would just smile at me. Like he was proud.

It was the end of school one day. I had to take a pee, so off I went to the outhouse.I was standing there taking a pee and in walked Jerry. He stood beside me rubbing his pecker, just teasing me like he always did in school. With out him saying anything he undid his jeans and pulled his underwear down over his hard-on. I stood there looking at how big and long he was.

I hear you like to swallow guy’s cum. Is that true?
 -Yes it is.
Well, how bout you to suck me and swallow my cum. I reckon I kind of nodded in agreement.

He hops up on top of the toilet seat. With his boner bouncing around teasing me.
I started to suck on his pecker. After a few times sucking up and down,  I felt him getting a little harder. He reached down and took hold of my head and held it on his pecker.
-I'm going to cum.

  He jerked a little and I felt his cum starting to flow in my mouth. I tried to swallow as fast as I could. I didn't want to spill any of the cum. He was still holding onto my head, as his pecker was slowly going soft….. He didn't let go of my head until he was fully soft.
He hopped down off the toilet seat, looked at me.
Then he said,
-We will be doing this more often.

Farm Boy