Saturday, February 28, 2015

My Russian Size Helped make me Popular

I found  many bad problems  for me when I came here in America. I am adopted from an orphanage in Russia. My height was very tall, my hair very blond, and my English was not so good . It was even worse with the British sounding accent. Because the teachers in Russia do not know American English, they only hear English from Britons. I was put in grade six with kids who seemed like little children. These kids did not like me. They laughed about me since I am big and not like them at all.

 When I was in the orphanage, big boys showed other boys like me something. Which was how to do nice feelings with the penis. The adults do not know, it was secret. The boys all do this feeling great penis masturbation in secret whenever they learned how. I was doing this from beginning of age 11. In Russia the boys liked my penis because it is big. It can make a lot of cum when I did masturbation. I got some other friends to do the penis feelings together.

The American boys they are all little, in this 6th grade. They do not do the penis feelings. So, it is by myself to do all the time. In the next year I got to grade seven. We had to do the showers  every day after boys played for sports. These Boys see my penis, and they see the hair I have. Now they like me okay because it is big when they saw it.

Then I go home at night with a boy one time. He kept wanting to feel of my penis. He then says he likes seeing and touching it. It had become hard and big. He let me do the same for him, until we make the both penises  cum. He is a friend. He says nice things of me to other boys and to be friends. They watch me make the cum. They like my penis also. That is how I got to make friends here.


Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Imagining What I Couldn't See

Are you still looking for stories?

Yes Always, Please!

This is not much of a tale but maybe you can use it.

I went with a lot of other guys to a Church Camp every summer. Probably about like most Summer camps but there was always a missionary there to show pictures and talk about working in other cultures in different parts of the world. One year when I was probably in the range of 11 or 12, the missionary was back from Africa. He had lots of slides to show while he talked. Some of them showed the people he worked with wearing their traditional tribal clothes - particularly women, a large number of them showed bare breasts. Some of these breasts were exceptionally large, sticking forward like a couple of torpedoes.

You can imagine what the boys talked about after that session! Due to those pictures, I heard the word "boob" for the first time. It didn't take long for me to figure out what it meant. Everybody snickered and jeered silly remarks that they were all hoping to see the boobs again.

In our cabin that night boys were still whispering about boobs. However, while all the other boys were thinking about boobs, I was thinking about something completely different. There had also been boys in the slides, boys that looked to be about my age and a little bigger. And they wore nothing except a loin cloth carefully tucked around their crotches. Inside those loin cloths there had to be dicks. What's more, I was pretty sure from the way things looked that one of the boys had a boner in his cloth. I stared and stared at those guys, imagining what I couldn't see.

 That night after the lights were out and all us guys were finally quiet, it occurred to me everybody else thought about boobs. I thought about dicks. At the time, I was content imagining what I couldn't see.
And for sure, I was damn careful not to let-on that I was "different."


Friday, February 20, 2015

The Most Memorable Ride of My Life

When I was a kid, our primary car was always a large station wagon which my parents traded on a new
model every three or four years. The wagons took us on vacation every summer. Most of the ones we
owned had a rear-facing third seat with a view of where we’d been but not where we were going.

My sister and I were expected to share the second seat on trips. We would start with the third seat closed and all the luggage heaped in the back. But before long the two of us would be fighting. The old man would stop the car, rearrange the luggage and raise the rear seat. One of us (usually me) was then banished to the back of the bus to meditate on our behavior.

My birthday is in June. The year I turned fourteen we drove to Cedar Point, a big theme park on the Ohio shore of Lake Erie. The park was a blast, so departing on the last day was a downer. A feeling of depression set in when we had to load up the wagon and leave all the fun behind. Somewhere along I-75 my sister and I got into an epic fight with her crying and howling because (even though she loved the park) she thought the entire vacation had been a birthday present for me. If you have sisters, you understand. If not, don’t try to figure it out.

I had been feeling somewhat independent as fourteen approached. For instance, my folks let me drive the cars in and out of the garage and up the driveway fairly often. On the vacation I’d been trusted with buying tickets and making choices while mom and dad shepherded my sister. They’d also let me ride big roller-coasters alone.

And there were other hints of maturity, private observations that I kept to myself. Hair had sprouted under my arms and around my dick, leading me to shower and dress in complete privacy. My dick also got real stiff all the time, which I knew was an indication of manhood, although I hadn’t put those pieces together yet. I instinctively kept the bulge in my pants hidden through great effort. I had also experimented with the old man’s electric razor. I knew I was outgrowing my childhood.

So I was mad as hell when dad stopped the car and informed me that I was the one who would be moving
to the third seat. Me? The grown-up kid? Couldn’t they tell it was my temperamental sister who was  responsible for all the drama, not me? I slammed the door and stomped around to the rear hatch, taking along a handful of comic books.

It would be the most memorable ride of my life.   As I fumed and read my comic books, I realized that I was unconsciously squeezing a lump in my lap.My dick had gotten hard inside my jock and shorts. It was uncomfortably hard, trying to poke a hole through the jock. I scraped it around to different positions in hopes of getting it situated into a reasonably bearable location. Nothing helped. It was a demanding kind of hardness, one of those erections that constantly says, 
 “Hey, kid, don’t forget about me.”

After while I gave up on the comic books and spent my time mashing and squeezing and rubbing the bulge in my shorts. Then a devilish idea crept into my mind. Nobody could see me way back here- why not get the damn dick out of confinement?

After a quick look around, I manipulated my stiffie out of the jock strap and into the right-hand leg of my shorts. And from that moment on, hurtling through the US Midwest at 70 miles an hour, my stiff penis was the sole focus of all my energy and thought.

It simply would not get soft. I stuck my fingers up my pants leg to touch my boner, poking and prodding it. I rested the palm of my hand on the bump my dick made, and rolled it back and forth against my leg. After another quick look around, I slid the pants leg up until the head of my dick was in full view.

Meanwhile I had a kind of weird thought that I had to DO something about my hard penis. But what? I certainly couldn’t piss while sitting in the wagon, and what else could a guy do with his penis besides piss?

After a few more adjustments of my shorts, a considerable length of my bare erection was in full view along my thigh. It seemed to be throbbing, asking me to soothe it.

I cupped the palm of my hand around the head of my dick and rubbed my hand around. It was a good feeling, although slightly strange. I stopped, but my dick wanted more. Weird. Maybe rubbing it is the way to make it go down. What if I do it some more?

Check the situation: Sister asleep. Parents absorbed in their conversation a whole wagon-length away. Barbra Streisand grinding out “You don’t bring me flowers anymore” on the 8-track. Pile of luggage by my side. Me facing backwards. Big stiffie sticking out of the leg of my shorts. Yeah, it’ll be cool. Just rub it. Rub it. Rub it. Gives me strange sensations to rub it, a funny awareness of myself, a mysterious feeling of exploring something unknown. 

Very soon I felt seriously strange. The palm of my hand was a nice fit over the head of my straining penis. I kept rocking my hand around in circles on the end of my boner, thinking that I would just do it a time or two more and then stop.

While I was deciding when to stop, a new idea came to me: Undoubtedly the reason I feel strange is because my dick is twisted at an angle to stick out from under my jock and through the leg of my shorts. It’s probably being strangled because it can’t point up properly.

And so I rearranged everything. Forced my hard dick back into my jock, lifted my butt off the seat for a second and pulled both the shorts and the jock down a few inches. Voila! Erect penis sticking straight up toward my navel with no constraint. That’ll fix those odd feelings! Now back to the cool rubbing.

But the feelings did not cease. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed – and they only got freakier. Are the feelings the result of rubbing my hand around on the head of my penis – or maybe some medical emergency? Am I having a stroke or something? Will I lose control and piss all over the back seat? Am I going to die back here with my penis sticking out in full sight? When they find me, will it still be hard?

The feelings got stronger, more frightening, downright alarming. Now there’s a new feeling, like doom! My hair must be sticking up all over my body. Something’s about to happen! I can feel it, feel it, scared of it! Gotta stop, but can’t stop! Can’t stop! Oh, Lord, let me stop before I kill myself!

Mom and Dad are happy as larks up there, Streisand still yelling about flowers. Sister asleep. They don’t know I’m in a crisis! They’ll find me dead back here! Dead, holding onto my nasty penis!

Then my body convulsed crazily in a way that I had never felt before. Then did it again, maybe stronger. Every muscle in my body felt it happen. What the hell have I done?

I was still alive, but something was wrong! Badly wrong! My hand was full of gross goo. Blood! No- it’s not red. But what is it and what happened?

The gooey stuff ran down my dick and saturating my jock. My hand was full of it. It was on my skin, in my dick hair, leaving creamy blobs on my shorts. And all of a sudden my dick didn’t want me to touch it anymore. It wanted to be left alone. But one good thing – it was deflating. Getting soft. Kind of squishy now but no longer hard.

I sat in the icky-ewwie results of my mysterious virgin cum-shot for five or ten minutes. My heart was pounding like never before. Finally I woke my sister and asked her to pass the paper towels.

When I got halfway calmed down, I promised on everything under heaven that I would never ever do anything – anything at all! – to my penis again.

My resolution lasted almost a Week.


Tuesday, February 17, 2015

The Magical Sixth Grade Year

 Maybe most of you guys discovered some of the same things I did when puberty began. When I was in sixth grade, life ushered in a magical year for me.

 I was both delighted and amazed at my first little pubic hairs at the end of October when I was in sixth grade. It was from that point forward that I became fascinated and fixated on my changing maleness, and the pleasures that soon came about. I had a study desk in my bedroom, equipped with a gooseneck lamp. Almost every day after school I would go to my bedroom, pull down my pants, shine the bright light right at my scientific study of self development. (Those were the days when we still had real incandescent light bulbs, that got quite warm. I would aim the lamp so close to my special thing that I could feel the warmth. Each day was a careful examination, looking for any new hair growth that I had not noticed before. In doing this study, I would pretty much be moving around and stretching both my penis and my testicles. It was at that time that I discovered with prime fascination that the two testicles could slowly move themselves around separately inside my scrotum. It surprised me that they could do that. Before that, I thought they just hung there in casual unison.

  By the middle of sixth grade, I guess you could say that I masturbated during class pretty much every day. The definition of masturbation is, “the manual stimulation of the genitals in ways that create sexual pleasure”. So, I realized I could keep my left hand on my crotch, unnoticed under the desk, and then through my pants gently and rhythmically squeeze the spongy head of my penis in ways that felt very pleasurable. Frequently this would cause a growing erection, but I found that I could push and manipulate it around in my pants to keep it comfortable, again of course without anyone noticing.

 I always rode home on the school bus sitting with the same friend. Then, one day towards the end of sixth grade, he was out sick and I ended up riding on the bus home, sitting alone. So with nothing to do and nobody to talk to, I started squeezing my penis again. When the bus got to my house, I had a rock hard little boner in my pants. I went right up to my room, turned on that light, pulled down my pants, and “boing,” it popped right out!
 Although nobody else was home, I sometimes would daringly strip fully naked, walk out of my room into the hallway. Because you see, my mom had a huge vanity mirror in her bedroom placed in such a way that I could see my whole naked body in it by standing in the hallway outside my room. I had one problem at this time, it looked to me when in my room with my bright light i saw I was getting quite a lot of pubic hair. But standing naked in the hallway, looking into my Mom’s mirror, it looked like I hardly had any pubic hair at all. (Well, I wanted to share with everyone my very early experiences with the start of my puberty.

 I hope this isn’t boring, so maybe it won’t even get posted. But if it gets posted and other people like it, I would be happy to write a “sequel” that I would title “seventh grade”. In that episode, I have my first orgasm and stuff came out.) 


Sunday, February 15, 2015

The Many Secrets of Enzo

I live in the Philippines, a very conservative country that is very strict when it comes to the subject of sex. I was in the 5th grade when I first discovered masturbation; not through my own self-experimentation but through a classmate of mine who bragged about it to us guys during recess.

Being the abiding conservative jerks that we were, we told the teacher about his discovery (since it involved the shameful penis) and thus, he got reprimanded for his actions. The teacher thought he talked us out of the evil deed of masturbation by saying what a grave sin it was. However, the concise facts of shame and due warning backfired for me and my best friend one adventurous Saturday afternoon.

  My best friend, Enzo, was of Spanish descent and he was tan with brown wavy hair while I was a half-Chinese Filipino kid, light brown in color with thick black hair. We were both eleven when this incident happened. I was in Enzo's house playing a LAN game of Diablo when he brought up the topic of masturbation. I responded with great interest and paused the game.

We were asking each other how it was possible to the point where we really had to do a hands-on method. We showed each other's dicks but without malice and began jerking off in front of each other. Since it was a Catholic country, most, if not all of us, were circumcised. We kept on wanking but to no avail and after a few more minutes of no result, we called it off not knowing what the big deal was.

I wasn't satisfied though, I really wanted to know why my classmate was so happy about it. I started jerking off and then without warning, the thought of Enzo filled up my mind. The image of his face, his upper body and his penis hastened by hand movement and after a few minutes, I felt the feeling of wanting to pee but I kept on going and finally sticky silvery liquid came out. It was the best feeling in the world and then I realized, I had to share it with Enzo.

The next Saturday, I was in his house again and eagerly brought out the topic of masturbation once more. He was cool with it and we did it in his closet under the dim amber light. I told him about how I managed to come but I twisted the story. I told him that we needed to be fully naked while touching parts of our body. We stripped naked and I instantly got an erection but Enzo was still flaccid. So I told him that it would be faster and better if we could help each other touch ourselves. He obliged and soon he was having an erection. I grabbed his butt cheeks while hugging him and he was rubbing his dick on my belly. He grabbed my ass well, and I soon realized he was following my lead. So I fondled with his balls and massaged my hand on his chest and he reciprocated my every move. We were standing the whole time during our experiment with one another. After a few minutes of groping and jerking each other, we finally came and were in immediate ecstasy.

I couldn't help myself right after that, and I kissed him without thinking of the repercussions. He just stared at me so I kissed him again but after the second kiss he pushed me away and told me that I should go home. I felt so stupid and sad at that moment and it was very awkward getting dressed with him in the closet. I called my father up to fetch me in Enzo's house. While waiting for my dad, we were very silent in his room and only talked when we said our goodbyes.

Surprisingly, it was as if nothing happened when we saw each other at school. We never talked about it and were still best friends until I transferred to another high school where we just grew out of our friendship.

I saw him again when I found out that our respective colleges were close to one another and hanged-out yet again. But that's another story...


Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Question By a Reader on Public Web Surfing

This is not a comment or article. It is a question that I hope some of you techies can answer- 

If you are staying at a motel and using their wifi signal, can the employees discover what sites you are looking at? Or maybe other guests that know some tricks can see what you are doing? 

Hoping for an answer.
Thank you

I'll kick it off -

We are not really a site where this type of conversation comes up. But I will entertain it, in a community spirit to help people learn a bit more about the topic. I also believe our format is fairly tame and would not interest a Hotel Manager or even another guest.

But first of all I want to establish that anyone who uses a "Free Open Authentication" Wifi connection source plays some risk of packet sniffing.

Regarding the question - Can Hotel / Motel staff discover sites visited by guests. 

Yes there are software applications, and hardware appliances available to log web surfing. These products are somewhat expensive, and are typically sold to Businesses who wish to assure that employees comply with internal policies and to avoid legal issues. Their goal is to help prevent HR/Legal issues by errant employees web surfing at work. This is often a measure to prevent harassment or an inappropriate work environment. I am not judging their ethics, but they spy on √©mployees essentially. But in my opinion these products are likely more costly than a Hotel can justify. Also, let’s be honest Hotels who offer Free cable TV, and Wifi services to guests, do so to enhance the guests stay. I doubt there is any benefit to be gained by monitoring what types of data traffic their guests partake in. So yes the technology is out there, but why would they bother paying for something that will yield them no monetary gain.   

You also mentioned - Can other guests do tricks to see what other people are doing.

 Okay I can’t answer that fully since the would best be answered by someone trained on preventing hacking attacks. I suppose it is fair to offer a couple of basic ideas. I suggest using a firewall on your PC, and assure that your PC uses a password to log-on. There is not so much to be concerned with on an ios-Device.

Obviously if you visit a site that has HTTPS in the URL, it is considered a secure site and the data is encrypted for that particular site. For general web surfing, any site that is an HTTP, it should be assumed on a public network to be somewhat visible if he network manager uses logging, or if another user  is employing a packet sniffer. Perhaps someone else might be able to guide you to a VPN or Proxy site which will help by encrypting all web surfing. Aside from carrying your own hotspot with an encrypted connection, you might not feel entirely secure using a free Wifi, so respond accordingly

Further in-depth conversations could get really boring, or make people uber-paranoid.  If someone is interested in learning more about anonymous or secure web surfing, I am sure you can locate plenty of information on the web.  

I ask that you keep your comments based upon answering this reader’s questions, and please do not turn our blog into an online manual for locating underground topics or media.   


Me Little and Him Big

 At 12 when I somehow found out how to jack off. Did not do with other boys because its so private. I like to do it a lot, but scared of somebody seeing. Did not really think, about other boys, or if they did it. Just me getting hard when I need to do it.  Most everyday, I go to whacking my hard stiffie alone. I make myself get ready by feel of my balls which get tight then my dick got all hard. Then I do some fingers on it. To make it cum! Every time a load will shot, that was heaven.

 I was on a camping trip of scout boys. Which at night, I got real cold in the sleeping bag. A big boy said get in with him to get warm. I get a real hard-on laying together. Because of his dick is just close by, and he got just his underwear.

 Got to thinking, I will take the chance, and jack off. And I’ll do it real light which will keep him from knowing. I got to do it real bad. And so start jacking quiet.

He said,  “Your making me hard.” I quit doing it. He said,  “Its okay.”

Well in a minute or so, I think he is doing it his self?...... I was like OMG he is doing it!

He said,  “I will let you feel it……. If you want to.” It was big and hard. But cannot see it. Because inside his sleeping bag and it’s all dark.

I said “I feel it is big. He said "Thank you."

 He said,  "Let me help you some." He reaches in my undies, and it feels warm, I like it from someone else feeling me.

 He did a very little bit on me and I got the awesome feeling in a hurry and real quick made lots of cum on the hands. Then him wanked his big one, and I feel his balls some, they moved up tight when he made his cum unload which shot everywhere.

After going home, we like to jack to gather all the time……… Me little and him big.


Saturday, February 7, 2015

Dalton's Wanks in his Bumpy Bug

We lived way out in the sticks. To go to Jr.High, I caught a ride with Dalton, a boy that lived on the same road. He was not old enough to have a license but he drove to school anyway in a junky old VW bug. Riding with Dalton was cool. Plus, the gearshift stuck up out of the floor between us and he sometimes let me shift gears while he held the clutch down.

It was the stick shift that got us started. Sometimes Dalton did an odd thing. He wrapped his hand around the gearshift (the knob was missing) and moved his hand up and down real fast. While he did it he made breathy noises and then his hand would fly off the gearshift and up into the air while he yelled "Squirt!"

I was dumb, just thought he was being silly. One day while he was stroking the gearshift he asked if I ever did this to my weenie. I told him no. He said he would help me if I ever needed a friend to help do it. That puzzled me a lot and after that I would sometimes think about my dick, because I knew that's what weenie meant.

One day he pulled over and said he had to pee real bad and let's go into the brush. When he pulled his dick out, it was hard, pointing upwards. Instead of pissing, he moved his hand back and forth on it like on the gearshift, telling me he had to do something private to take care of his weenie. It all clicked in my mind: This is what thinks about when he plays with the gearshift. He likes to mess with his peter. But I still didn't know about climaxing and ejaculating.

Dalton was very nice, saying it would only be a minute until he got through. And also that it was fine for me to look. Before long he said to watch out, and turned away from me. A stream of stuff shot into the air and landed in the weeds, and then he was through. Me, I wondered exactly what had happened.

We began doing funky things while driving. Dalton would ask me to check his weenie, saying he was busy driving and couldn't take his hands off the wheel. He wanted me to see if he was hard. So I put my hand on his crotch until I got my fingers around his boner and said yes it was hard. Then he checked me.

As we became more intimate he climaxed every day. Sometimes I did him while he drove. I twisted around in the seat to get my right hand under the wheel and pump his hard dick. I caught his cum in a rag and threw it into the backseat. He would thank me and tell me how well I did it.

Other times we went into the bushes pretending we were going to pee. I helped him jack off and he felt of my little boner.

On a cold rainy day he stopped on a side lane but didn't get out. He told me it was time for me to see if I could get a squirt so he wouldn't be the only one doing it. I leaned my seat back, got my little stiffie out of my fly, and began stroking myself with the old Volkswagen shaking and smoking to accompany my moving hand. Dalton jacked off under the steering wheel, watching me and making comments.

He told me that it would feel strange my first time, but to relax and enjoy it. Don't do it too hard or too fast, he said. Just let it happen.

Well, it did happen. I remember telling him I was scared. He said just do it! He kept asking, is it coming? is it coming?

Cum sprayed everywhere. I got it all over my pants and the dashboard. Dalton apologized, saying we should have waited for a dry day to do it outside.

After that he taught me how to drive the bug and would jack me off as I bumped along the gravel roads. I think he liked to jack me off as much as he liked to do it to himself.


Sunday, February 1, 2015

A Legendary night with Logan

I wrote about Logan in Boys at the Lake House and Lake House Part II
This is essentially a continuation on a pair enjoying some teen fun.

I remember a time that Logan’s parents went to the Lake house I guess for an adults retreat from kids, so Logan was left at home with his older brother in charge. Since the brother had a Girlfriend he was gone most of the time hanging else where. So his version of “in charge” was kinda relaxed. Logan and I took advantage of having their house alone to ourselves. After dinner we broke out some secret Xxx rated videos his Dad had, watching them led to the biggest most daring thing we’d ever done.  Logan suggested since he had just a single bed, we should sleep in his parents room. I was nervous and knew it was probably the wrong thing to do, but the chance to sleep together easily took over my conscience.

We had done loads of sexy stuff already, and although we never talked about what we did, one if us would initiate the moment and we managed to relieve our teen pressures at least a couple of times a week (BJ's or Handies).  That night it was exciting getting a large bed to share. Usually we were studying in his room  or maybe my house as we hurried a quickie fully clothed only undressed just enough to expose our cocks for wanks or special oral attention.
I still remember the sight of that huge king sized bed all for us. It was not fully made up, it had sheets only. We undressed pretty quickly. I didn’t feel up to stand around in a strange bedroom for very often, so I slipped under the sheets in a hurry, then him but immediately he laid flat on too of me. We never really kissed very often but the straight vids had us anxiously  hugging and pressing our bodies together. I might have kissed his neck or maybe even on the lips. We were mega horny and it was time for business. Under these king-sized sheets in only our undies, but body heat let our nerves quickly relax.   Just feeling these nice sensations..... doing a little grinding and leg wrapping, our bulges meet with electric familiarity. Then hands inside undies rubbing  boners indeed familiar, but oh quite intrepid. With the forbidden  surroundings and how daring it all was, the excitement pressed us to urgency, I slipped deep under the sheets, lowering Logan’s undies. His dick bounced out freely and pointing straight up at my mouth.  With plenty of room for us to spread out on this huge bed ,  we were afforded a luxurious chance to take each others rigid cock to mouth. I worked him to a warm ejaculation far quicker than my own , he finished me by hand. I can’t remember if we bothered with towels or any means to catch our cum. I think we were in such a rush by reckless hormones which pushed us to a hurried state of careless abandon. And well, some fantastic orgasms.  

I remember we only did the one round that night, but in the morning I woke up excited to see him sleeping by me. I was also interested in his morning wood. He had the joy of waking up, with me working on his erection. In the rays of golden morning light I could see the broad girth of his glans, it seemed so masculine for his medium sized frame. The paleness of his upper thighs as the shade of his legs darkened to tan at just the same point where muscle definition showed the rigors  of his sports. Grappling his torso while wrapping myself close to him I navigated his upward arc, adjusting myself from his abdomen and down to get the most coverage on him. Soon his pressure was ready to blow, he unleashed a champion orgasm, heaving as his breath spent in pelvic gyration, and delivering toe curling joy .

We managed to get showered and dressed before his brother came home. However we didn’t get the bed made, Logan’s brother noticed something about the condition of the room, and remarked about somebody must have slept in their bed. We didn’t answer. Leaving it as a possibility that the parents had not made the bed at all since there were only sheets, and no bed spread.

I think we got away with it, and truly how lucky we were to have that big bed for one night. In our naivety we were not aware of some things we could have tried, but we explored each other to a level that seemed natural for us.