Monday, March 30, 2015

Me, Carl and Gene at the Pier

I had an experience that similar to Steve's memory of K. It also left me depressed, and feeling rejected. I still sometimes still feel that pain.

Three of us went on a fishing trip. I was 13, the youngest guy. My friend Carl was a year and a half older than me. Gene was about 16 or 17 and was allowed to drive us to the lake. Gene was one of those painfully nice boys that adults trust, but their peers don't. He was considered "mature" by Carl's and my parents.

When bedtime came we spread our sleeping bags inside a covered pier. Carl was in the middle, I was on Carl's right, and Gene was on his left. I had experience with mutual stiffies and "playing around" during sleepovers although I was still ignorant of masturbation and ejaculation. As we settled into our sleeping bags I assumed that this was going to be a fine opportunity to have some mutual quality time with Carl.

Gene did not figure into my expectations. I'm not sure why, but probably because he was older I supposed he would not be interested in dick play. As we settled into our sleeping bags I already had a major erection which I was anxious for Carl to appreciate. I lay on my back squeezing, rubbing and lifting my boner, waiting for the moment when Carl and I would quietly squirm together and explore each other's privates.

Imagine my shock when some peculiar activity began between the other two boys -- but didn't include me. Gene and Carl seemed focused on each other. Soon they were whispering together and opening the zippers of their sleeping bags. I heard snickers. Carl scooted closer to Gene, leaving me by myself several feet away from them. Was Carl playing dick games with the "mature" Gene? Wasn't that against the rules of boyhood, for my friend to do something like that with our so-called leader?

Gene and Carl were really squirming around. My dick was painfully hard, ready for Carl to feel and look and compliment (some younger dudes had told me I had quite a large one).

I suppose I could have gotten up, moved my sleeping bag up against Carl's, and let them know that I was available. But I was too "hurt" to do it. They were in the middle of private stuff. They completely ignored me.

It would be several months before I had the key to what they were doing. The fishing trip took place in November. I would discover masturbation the following March. I suppose Gene and Carl rightly felt that I was not yet initiated, so they excluded me.

The two of them lay facing each other, doing a lot of bumping around and loud breathing and giggling. I was dying inside, hating what was happening, hating both of them. All of a sudden one of them let out a sort of squeal. That was followed by Carl very obviously pulling up his underwear. Then he rolled away from Gene and got himself repositioned inside his sleeping bag. I thought that might be a cue that he was ready to have fun with me, but it wasn't true. Carl simply lay there, doing nothing, apparently ready for sleep. Gene was still wiggling around in a strange way until coming to a sudden stop as if a switch had been turned off.

That was the worst night of my young life. Gene and Carl had played with each other's dicks and they totally ignored me. Was I funny-looking or something? Did they think I was a baby? Did I wear the wrong clothes or talk funny or have the wrong haircut? Listen to the wrong songs? Was I a jerk or a loser or something?

I learned part of the answer once I started jacking off: They had been doing this fun thing that I'd just discovered. But why didn't they give me a chance?

The rejection and despair lasted a long time. For years when sharing masturbation with other friends I sometimes had flashbacks to Carl and Gene bumping around together while I lay by myself wiggling my lonely boner and feeling excluded and unwanted.


Saturday, March 28, 2015

Memory of the Bond Everlasting

I knew from a very early age that I didn't like girls.  Not in the way that prepubescent boys don't like girls--I mean "that way".  They held zero attraction for me.  Because of this, I had a minor epiphany when I was eight or nine--that I was never going to be married nor have children because I never wanted to be intimate with a girl in any way--emotionally or sexually.  

 Boys, on the other hand, were very appealing.  Because of society's attitude towards homosexuality at the time, though, I had to bury those feelings deep inside myself.  I didn't want to be "mushy" with another boy (that attitude would change over time), but companionship, intimacy and sex with them ruled my mind.
My parents were distant.  My mom had emotional problems and my dad was a workaholic.  The little time that he was home, he had to take care of my mother.  This meant that I got little emotional support from either of them.  When I needed that support they would reject me and call me “immature” or say I was “going through a phase.”  This left a large void in my life around emotional intimacy.

Enter “K”.  He moved in two doors down from me when I was ten or eleven.  He was the same age as me and in the same grade.  He had two older brothers (who we both tried to avoid) and parents that I didn't really understand--his mom was deeply into religion (though the rest of the family was not) and his dad loved to go hunting.  For the first month or two, I teased him because, well, that's what you're supposed to do when you're a kid and a new kid shows up.  Eventually I got past that and discovered just how great he was.
We were polar opposites--I liked to be indoors, watch TV and play board and card games (home video games didn’t really exist yet).  I wasn't sedentary but I didn't like camping or other "outdoorsy" stuff.  I was also "husky"--not fat, but not skinny like most boys.  “K” was very thin and generally liked to be active outside--skiing, hunting with his dad, camping.  Yet somehow, we bonded very deeply and became inseparable.  By sixth grade, we would sit together in our same classes and hang out together as much as possible after school.  We built a fort down by the railroad tracks, explored corn fields, and played with Star Wars toys.  I sometimes recorded our random play on a cassette recorder my dad gave me, playing it back so we could at ourselves.

I realize now that I was actually deeply in love with “K”.  He was everything I wanted--cute, thin, “a Boy” and an absolute joy to be around.  When he was suddenly taken to the hospital with acute appendicitis, I was worried sick.  I couldn't think of anything but him.  After a couple of days, his parents took me to the hospital so that I could see him.  I had never cared for anyone outside or even inside my family to that extent before.Yet somehow, though all of this, I never thought of doing anything sexual with “K”.  Our relationship was so deep and intimate to me that it seemed to transcend sex.

Then came the fateful night.  It was sometime in April, a month after I had turned twelve.  I was sleeping over at his house and we had the basement all to ourselves, with a fold-out double bed, a TV and a bunch of toys.  We played and talked for quite a while, then watched some TV.  Eventually, when it got late, we got in our pajamas and crawled into bed.

I was on the right side of the bed; he on the left.  I was laying on my left side, facing him; he, on his right side.  (I've always slept on my side--I can't sleep on my back.)  We looked at each other and talked absently for a while before he got up and turned off the lights.  I was still lying in bed, facing him when about five or ten minutes later I heard rustling and then felt my pajama top slowly move up.  Then I felt a couple of fingers on my exposed tummy, moving slowly and lightly down my torso.  Eventually, they reached my pajama’s waistband and dug gently under it to go deeper. Judging by the slowness and deftness of his movements, he must have thought I was asleep.  I pretended to be just that, wanting to see where this was going. 

My underwear was slightly lower than my pajama bottoms and his fingers soon encountered the top of its waistband.  I held my breath, not moving or saying anything as he found his way into my underwear.  I was excited as hell--I really wanted this to happen.  At the same time, I felt terrified--what if other kids at school found out about us?  I'd be ruined for life, my dad (who was the principal of my school) would be run out of town....

Now inside my underwear, he continued to journey deeper, ever so slowly.  His fingers caressed my pubis, almost making me gasp from how good it felt.  He eventually encountered my sparse pubic hair and began to stroke them, learning what they felt like.  Satisfied, he went lower. I was so afraid at this point that I moved away slightly.  He immediately withdrew his hand and waited.  A minute or two later, he went through the same movements—pajama top up, hand under the pajama bottoms, then below the underwear, getting closer and closer to the prize. My fear overwhelmed me and I turned away from him, onto my right side.  He decided not to pursue the issue and he gave up and went to sleep.

The next morning, I felt like shit.  I wanted so badly to go back and change what I had done.  I had rebuffed him.  He clearly wanted to explore our relationship further, and so did I, but my fear had won out over my sexual desires.  We never spoke of the incident again.
Very soon after that night, my parents told me that my dad was getting a new job and that we were moving out of state.  Although I tried to put on a brave face, I knew what it meant--I was going to lose “K”.  Desperately, I tried to find any way I could for us to have the sexual exploration I had denied him that night, but the opportunity never arose.  A month and a half after I turned away from him in bed, I was forced to move away from the only person I've ever loved.  *That way.*

The new school in Wisconsin was horrible.  I started seventh grade without a single friend and the school body was light years ahead socially compared to where I came from.  On day one, they were already calling me a "faggot" and forcing me to sit with the other few social outcasts the school had.  (I've never been effeminate nor displayed any of the stereotypical "gay" behaviors, but kids that age just love to call things "gay" when they really mean "bad”.)  The teachers, for the most part, turned a blind eye to all the harassment, bullying, physical abuse and other hateful behavior I experienced. I withdrew, socially. 

 During the summer between my seventh and eighth grade years, my parents bought me a computer (I had been begging them for it almost since we moved there) and it became my life support.  I learned how to program it and was soon making it do all kinds of things.  It's the only thing that kept me sane until we finally left that hell hole after my eighth grade year ended.  Unfortunately, it also caused me to withdraw socially even further.

I saw “K” a few more times after that--his family stopped by our house after going on a skiing trip to our north; I went to a rock concert with him when we were both 14; he came visit one summer when I was sixteen where we went out fishing at a small lake for a day.  The magic was still there between us--like we had never been separated.  But we didn’t have sex.  I don’t know why.  And each time, after the visits were over, I felt empty.  That fishing trip was the last time I ever saw or heard from him.

I believe all of this significantly affected my sexuality.  I've always been gay and I came to terms with that long ago.  However, it's left me stuck in the past in a way that I can't and won't go into here--it's too dangerous.
These days, I sit in my house, desperately clinging to the idea that if I could just go back and fix a few things in the past, everything would be better now.

There's a saying by the ancient philosopher Lao Tzu:
If you're depressed, you are living in the past.
If you're anxious, you are living in the future.
If you're at peace, you are living in the present.
Thanks for listening (well, reading).


Tuesday, March 24, 2015

The Secret German Correspondent

Author's Note -
Okay, it is not much of a story, but here goes. 

Think I was maybe 15 when  I was at this youth hostel. They had a cyber room which was just computers with internet that you could pay to use. They each were like a little closet things built from plywood around each computer. These wood cubes were not really private, just panels along your sides, and not up high or down to the floor, but at least a chair in each spot. So anyway, it was a little private. I went in to send some emails home.

 During my session, I guess I looked down, I could see the feet and legs of the guy next to me. His pants crumpled down on his feet and his legs shaking like hell! I think A-Hah! This Dude is jacking off! Man, he is going really fast, because the way he is shaking so much.

 I thought What the Hell -  I’ll go ahead and watch until he cums. Maybe I was bored there I dunno, but I wanted to watch because it was so funny.....I knew exactly what he is doing over there. I could hear his breathing and some fapping as he worked on his own boner.
I had not been thinking at all about jerking until seeing that dude...he’s all got his pants down and banging his prick real fast. Well me I got no paper to shoot in, but right away I spring a horney boner demanding me to jerk it out while this other guy is going at it. I usually start slow, but I timed myself to match his speed, it was easy to tell now because he is shaking the damn walls.
Mine got all swollen fast and the bottom is so damn solid, I was already dripping out about to peak in just seconds. When it fully cums I spread my legs and make it shoot out all under the table. I thought it’s funny to me, I go and cum ahead of that dude. It was like a big surprise how that jack-off happened... This dude made me cum real quick and I never saw him.

Later,  I figure out who it was, this very young German guy with curly blond hair. I never saw his dick but I was thinking “Whoa you know how to bang your Dick!!”
I never let on what I knew bout his jerk-off, or mine.


Saturday, March 14, 2015

A Hand In The Dark

 The summer between 10th and 11th grades I went on a church mission trip to a little town in Mexico. We did mainly construction work and also organized games with the local kids. Many of them liked to hang out with us, and we made friends with them even though most of us could not speak a word of Spanish.

 One boy latched onto me. He followed me everywhere, constantly talking to me despite me not having a clue as to what he was saying. He made sure I had a full plate at meals. He also hovered around while we were working. If I was up a ladder, he was at the bottom holding it still. I guessed that he was about 12 or 13.

 The living arrangements were pretty much like camping out. Our crew - boys and girls alike - spread our sleeping bags on the ground or in partially-constructed houses. Sanitation was not very private - we used the local outhouses and occasionally restrooms in churches or schools.

 In the two weeks we were there, I rarely felt safe enough to get my nuts off. I lived with the constant tension of a 16-year-old who hasn't taken care of his major need. Of course I knew it would be like that when I signed up, but by the time we'd been there a while I was really edgy, consumed with a constant urge that I could feel throughout my body, yet didn't dare satisfy.

 One night it started to pour down rain. People picked up their sleeping bags and ran for whatever shelter they could find. My little friend had been sleeping close to me, rolled up in a blanket. The two of us got drenched. We ran for the tool trailer. At first we just sat in the trailer watching the pouring rain. We were drenched, wet and cold. After a few minutes we rolled up on the floor of the trailer to try to dry out and get back to sleep. The boy was whispering to me in Spanish, his hand rubbing my soaked clothes in the dark.
As he tried to brush the wetness off my clothes, his hand came closer and closer to my crotch. What the hell was going on? He continued whispering, touching me dangerously near my dick! I was getting hard! If I told him to stop, it would be the end of a nice friendship. If I let him continue, what then? He seemed to be asking questions, his inquisitive fingers making circles around my junk. And then there was a finger on my erect peter, a finger moving lightly back and forth while he kept whispering.
 I was sort of hypnotized, unable to say "Stop!" The boy slowly unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. He tugged at my pants. Although I knew I should stop him, he had triggered the need inside me. I was as stiff as a piece of pipe and horny as hell. I raised my butt and he pulled my pants down. He immediately put a hand around the erection in my boxers, whispering mysterious things that I took as comments on my size and stiffness.

 There was no doubt now as to what he intended to do. He continued touching me, sometimes stroking back and forth with his fingers, sometimes squeezing with his whole hand. I was intensely aroused. Before long he would have me climaxing.
 Almost without thinking, I reached toward him, hunting his stiffie. He responded with happy whispers, immediately scooting his shorts and briefs way down below his knees so I could easily find his bare boner and his tight little scrotum. We squirmed around into various positions as we stimulated one another. Finally I found myself on my back, my happy buddy kneeling next to me in the dark trailer while his hand gave me the blessed back-and-forth motions that I desperately needed. As if we'd made a deal in advance, I did the same for him.

 Too soon I told him I was cumming. Even though he couldn't understand the words, he did understand the message. His hand slowed, taking longer, gentler strokes. When I ejaculated (one of the deepest climaxes I've ever had) he gave my balls a little squeeze. Then the two of us continued his wank with him making happy sounds every time I touched him. He shot his load into his hand and wiped it on the wall of the trailer.
I worried throughout the rest of the night. This might be disastrous. Had I ruined our friendship by letting him go ahead? Would he have second thoughts in the morning? Would we be too embarrassed to acknowledge each other? Would he avoid me or let me know somehow that I had taken advantage of him? Or worse, would he tell somebody?

 No to all those questions. He hung around with me as always, happy as could be, running to bring me tools or water. Massaging my achy muscles after working construction laboriously.

 So, two of us masturbated each other in the dark and rain in Mexico. I was from North of the border. He was from South of it. I was 16. He was maybe 13. I spoke only English. He spoke only Spanish. I was there to "help" his people. But he "helped" me.

 We hooked into each other's needs thanks to my bold little friend. And that rainy-night encounter led to two more similar episodes before the trip was over.


Thursday, March 12, 2015

Into the Woods (Part II)

Continued from -

Into the Woods (Part I)

 I sort of figured this was where things were heading. My heart was beating hard and fast. I didn’t care much for the girls, but I was already something of a confirmed exhibitionist with my sitter, so why not? Plus dragging poor Isaac down with me was a bit of thrill. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I'd seen him naked. But I didn’t want to make it look too easy.

 “You can’t make us do anything.”

 “We’re not making you, we’re just asking.”

 “What’s in it for us?”

 “We’ll give you five dollars, Each.”

 “Fine, whatever. But you have to take your clothes all the way off.”

 “No way! It’s cold.”

 “You have to take your pants and underwear off at least.”

 I was sold. I don’t think Isaac was entirely, but he never raised an objection. I glanced around just to make sure I couldn’t see the house. Once they paid up, I pulled off my gloves, then my shoes and finally my jeans and boxers, Isaac hesitantly following my lead. The ground was cold and a little wet so I shoved my feet back into my sneakers.

 The girls were all smiles as they looked us over. They made us lift our shirts high enough to expose our dicks and turn around for them. My eyes were on Isaac as much as I was able without being obvious. He was still bald down there, just as his sister had promised. He’s also circumcised, which might explain why he kept glancing at my uncircumcised dick.

 “I thought it would be bigger,” said Emma, smirking.

 “It shrinks up when its cold. Plus I’m not even hard.”

 “So make it hard.”

 “I’m not going to just stand here and jerk off for you.”

 “At least move the skin back.”

I pulled my foreskin back for the girls who were now starting to crowd around.

 “Can I try?” one of the girls asked. 

I removed my hand and let her move the skin up and down. All four of the girls took turns feeling me up and I got hard pretty quickly. It wasn’t being touched by the girls so much as the whole situation, especially having Isaac watch, that really got me excited. Once I was hard they wanted to make Isaac hard to, which they did, though I noticed his sister didn’t get involved.

 The girls mostly talked to each other, as though we weren’t there. They commented on how Isaac’s pointed straight up while mine pointed out in front of me. They talked about how much bigger mine had become now that I was hard, and how much bigger it was than Isaac’s even though we were only a year apart. They talked about how weird our balls looked. Eventually, after a couple minutes of being exposed, the excitement started to wear off and I was getting cold.

 “Alright, that’s enough.”

I grabbed my pants but Emma grabbed my boxers before I could get my hands on them.

 “We’re not done yet.”

 “It’s freezing cold.”

 “We want to see you make sperm!”
 “No way.”

 I was grabbing for my boxers but Emma kept backing away. She passed them to one of her friends, and soon it was a game of keep away with me in the middle, my boner bouncing around every time I lunged for my underwear. I was finally starting to feel embarrassed about the whole thing when one of the girls took pity and gave them back to me. Isaac had already gotten dressed by then so the girls stood around and watched me get my clothes back on. I started walking away.

 “Where are you going?” Emma asked

 “Back to the house. My balls are frozen solid.”

 “You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

 “Why would I tell anyone?”

 We left the girls in the woods. As we walked, every so often we could head them erupt into laughter.

 “That was weird,” said Isaac.

 “Girls are weird.”

 Inside it was quiet with most of the family gone out. We went straight to Isaac’s room. We sort of awkwardly sat around not sure what to do after what just happened. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to get a proper look at his naked body. I wanted to touch him the way the girls had managed to. I was wracking my brain for an excuse when he surprised me.

 “Can I see how your skin works again?”

 This time there was no pretending I didn’t want to show off. I was hard by the time I got my jeans undone and my dick out. Isaac got on his knees and pulled my pants and boxers down further. I held my shirt out of the way with one hand and moved the skin up and down a couple times with the other. When he reached up I simply let go of my cock so he could try it himself. With his cold fingers on my very warm dick and his face inches away I could feel myself getting close to the edge.

 “I can make it shoot, if you want.”

 “Do it.”
 It only took me a few strokes before I came on his (fortunately) hardwood floor. Isaac was visibly impressed and I noticed he was clutching his own crotch. I buttoned myself up while he inspected the creamy white drops all over his floor.

 “Want me to do it to you?” I offered.

 “I can’t shoot yet.”

 “That’s ok.”

 I would have said anything to get his clothes off, but it really didn’t matter to me. He was a beautiful boy but that wasn’t why I was excited either. Older boys were the ones I was attracted to. The thing was I didn’t have a brother, and though we looked very different, especially our cocks, I felt like I was getting to share something huge with him, something I hadn’t shared with any other boy, something that would change his life the same way learning about masturbation changed mine.

 He pulled his jeans and underwear down to his knees. He was already hard. I made him hold his shirt up, then I took him into my hand and started stroking. Mostly I didn’t watch his dick but his face instead. He closed his eyes. I put one hand on his butt to help him keep his balance. I stroked him for a minute or two until he grabbed his dick and squeezed it. His eyes were shut tight. I couldn’t tell if he’d had an orgasm.

 “Is that enough?”

 “Yeah,” he said, smiling, and pulled his pants back up.

 That night, and the remaining few nights of the trip, we shared his bed instead of me sleeping in a bag on the floor. We talked about sex an puberty and I answered every question I could. He watched (and helped) me jerk off at least twice a day and I helped him, including using the money he got from the girls to buy lotion for him to use as lube. I'm sure the woman at the store knew what I was buying it for but since I'd never see her again, I didn't really care and I wanted Isaac to have as much fun jerking off every day as I did.

 Emma never brought up what had happened, but she often gave me a mischievous smirk when adults weren’t around. I just shrugged my shoulders.

 In the years after, Isaac and I made a point to go off and fool around whenever our families got together. This continued until he turned 16 at which point he got his first girlfriend. We still hung out but mostly just smoked weed and listened to music. He’s pretty straight these days, but still very attractive and rather feminine looking. He’s also very affectionate and though we haven’t jerked off together in decade he always greets me with a warm hug and a kiss.


Into the Woods (Part I)

Hi, I’m Max. I wrote the Strip Poker with the Sitter story a couple months back. This next story begins when I was 12, after I had started stripping off around my babysitter.

It was Christmas and my parents and I had flown across the country to spend the holiday with my father’s family. My father’s brother was more or less hosting the event. He had a big house that backed up to a bit of forest and a river. The forest was dense with a lot of undergrowth but not big enough that you were likely to get lost in it, so us kids were pretty free to play in it as we pleased.  That year us kids were me and my two cousins, Emma (13) and Isaac (11), everyone else being under five or over 18. 

 I liked both my cousins well enough, but I mostly hung out with Isaac because Emma spent as much time as possible with her own friends. That, and Isaac always seemed to me a little starved for companionship, especially from other guys. He was skinny and had long, curly blond hair. In public he was shy and soft-spoken and people sometimes mistook him for a girl. In the woods though he was like a wild animal, running and shouting, climbing trees and leaping out of them. It made me jealous that he lived here while I lived in a city.

The two of us would take any excuse to escape the stuffy, over-full house and run around in the woods. There was a bit of snow on the ground, but not enough for us to bother with proper snow clothes other than gloves and maybe a hat, so long as we kept moving we stayed warm enough.

One day, the day before Christmas I think, Emma had three friends over. They started out in her room with the door closed. Isaac and I, as per usual went into the woods and were throwing pebbles, trying to hit a distant tree trunk, when they came up behind us and stood there, watching.

They asked us what we were doing. They asked me questions about California, where I’m from. It was all just awkward meaningless conversation, and Isaac was getting irritated, but I was friends with enough girls to sense that they were just building up to whatever it was they really wanted to talk about. Finally Emma took charge. As best I can remember the conversation went:

“Max, why don’t you come hang out with us for a minute?”

“I’m not leaving Isaac all alone.”

“We just want to ask you something.”


“It’s like, sorta private.”

“I don’t care.” I had a feeling where this was going and I didn’t mind talking in front of Isaac, but I also didn’t much want to face all four girls on my own. Emma was looking me right in the eye and smiling.

“Do you have hair around your dick yet?”


“Isaac doesn’t.”

“So? He’s eleven.”

“Can you make sperm?”


“Is it true Boys always wake up with a boner?” one of her friends piped in.

“I dunno. Most days, yeah.”

“How big is it?”

“I dunno.” This was a lie. I knew exactly how big it was because I measured it on a regular basis.

“Show us,” said Emma.

“Make your brother do it too,” said her friend, grinning at Isaac.


To be Continued...........

Monday, March 9, 2015

Do you need any help?

The story about the guy in the the Downtown Bathroom reminds me of something that happened to me.

 I was on a shopping trip with my grandmother. We went to one of those big warehouse stores. After getting bored following her around, we made a deal to meet at one of the entrances at a certain time. Right away I hunted up the restroom by their food court, knowing exactly what I was going to do. I had not jacked off for a while (seemed like days). This was a good opportunity.

When I got to the restroom another boy was there, standing at a urinal. I went in a stall and began getting ready for what I planned to do. I entertained my dick with a little foreplay and so forth. You know, getting things ready for a good stroke. Also looking around in the stall. I was very surprised to find a small hole drilled through the side of the stall.

When I looked in it, I was even more surprised. I had a narrow little view of the urinals, including the guy who was standing at one of them. Amazingly, he had a boner which he was wiggling around. I had often seen one of my friends with a hard-on, a guy that I was in the habit of jacking with. But I had never been in a sexual situation with somebody I didn't already know. And here I was, staring at this dude's stiff erection while he stood and wiggled it. I started pumping myself while staring through the hole. Now, to me, what happened next was an amazing coincidence. But of course the other guy was experienced and knew exactly what he was doing. While I jacked and peeked, I couldn't believe... he moved one urinal closer to my stall. Then another one. And soon he was standing right by the hole, playing with his hard dick right in front of my staring eyeball.

As I said, I thought it was something crazy that just happened for no reason. For a few seconds he jacked off (doing it for me to see, of course). Then he zipped himself up, passed the door to my stall, and entered the other stall. Within seconds of sitting on the pot he was clearly masturbating. There was no question about it. His legs were stuck way out, the shadow of his arm was dancing around, and his clothes were shaking. Of course I was doing the same thing but hoping with all my heart that he didn't know it.

 Then there was a pause. In a moment he stuck a piece of rolled-up toilet paper under the partition. At first I was going to pretend I didn't see it. But curiosity won. I unrolled it and read "Do you need any help?" That was all it took to absolutely frighten me. I grabbed my pants and hauled them up. I unlocked the stall with one hand and buckled my belt as I hurried out of the restroom without ever shooting my load. My first opportunity for a little mutual enjoyment, and I ran away from it. I've wished many times for a replay.


Saturday, March 7, 2015

The Downtown Bathroom

I went to a school out of my district and had to change city buses downtown. One afternoon I needed to crap real bad. The bus stop was at a busy corner in the older part of the mercantile district where the streets were lined with low-budget businesses in run-down buildings. I was terribly embarrassed, but had to immediately locate a men's room in one of those stores.

The place right on the corner was a used furniture company with several sleazy looking salesmen standing in the doorway and laughing. I asked one of them, "Could I please use your bathroom."

The guy hoo-hawed with laughter and said to the other two, "Bathroom! Kid here wants to take a bath."

Of course I should have said "restroom" instead of "bathroom," but it was too late, I'd said it wrong.

"No he doesn't," one of them said. "Be nice to him. He just wants to piss."

"Or shit?" asked another man. "You gotta shit, young fellow?"

"Naw, he's looking for a place where his mama ain't watching. Boy that age needs privacy to choke his chicken."

I was 11 and in fifth grade. I didn't know how to handle their language. "Shit" and "piss" I understood but the part about choking my chicken was a mystery. These men were obviously the kind of people I was supposed to avoid. I decided to walk away and try somewhere else.

As I started to leave, one of them said, "Come on, kid. We're harmless. I'll show you where the f---ing bathroom is."

He took me upstairs to a little closet-sized restroom at the end of a dirty hallway. It looked like it was about to collapse. The light bulb hung down on a wire out of the ceiling. The toilet tank was mounted way up on the wall. Flakes of plaster or paint covered the floor. It was the filthiest restroom I had ever seen. However, since I was about to have diarrhea in my pants, I was grateful to find it.

I told the man "Thanks" as he pointed me in.

"Anytime, kid, anytime. Stop by whenever you're in town."

When I got through and went back out to the street, the same guys were still hanging around the front door. One of them looked me over and gave me a parting shot: "Everything come out okay, pal?"

Another one said, "Wally, run upstairs and see if he left any souvenirs on the wall."

"Leave him alone," said the man who took me upstairs. "What a boy does in a bathroom is just between him and his friend Pete." He turned and winked at me. "Right, Tiger?"

I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. 

Several years later, after becoming a jacker, I passed that corner and realized that they thought I needed a place to masturbate.


Wednesday, March 4, 2015

The Fosters - You KISSED Me! (Jude and Connor)

Some of you might have already seen this and some might want to weigh in a comment if you like.
I encourage your words if it relates to this blog's format.


and a preceding episode scene -

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

The Freshman's First

Unlike the guys that started at 11 or 12, my discovery was made kind of late.

I was almost 15, late in my freshman year. My school was the hosts for a high school band festival. Our band set up a welcome station in the main corridor of the building. The older kids and teachers had a coffee urn going. I never tasted coffee before. It was awful, I thought it was too strong and really hot. But I kept drinking it to be cool and acting all mature. After way too much coffee...... I had to desperately get to the restroom and dump a load! 

I knew a Boys Rest Room down a hall hidden away from most of the people. I needed to go so bad, my rear end exploded! But something else also happened. I'd finished evacuating my bowels, still sitting on the toilet when my peter popped up with a hard-on.

  It was a large and firm erection. The more I played with it, the harder it got. Without the slightest clue as to what I was doing, I put my hand around it and began pumping up and down. My body immediately felt like I was getting goose-bumps all over. It was a really cool feeling,  just like everybody else had said. But when the sexual sensations grew and grew, I got scared. My body was probably extremely horny due to being as old as I was. Honestly, I didn't know why I had been having had wet stuff in my pajamas ever so often, but here I was at 15 and never shot a load yet, and I guess my body wanted to get it out. My boner sure was leading the way.

 It was only seconds from the beginning of my strokes until the climax..... And it was a mega-climax!!
My penis shot out a continuous stream of cum that just kept flowing (not separate knots or wads). The ejaculation hit the stall door and left a wet ribbon across the floor and my pants. It ran down the door and slowly dripped. After the initial stream, my dick flexed involuntarily several more times, producing a new squirt each time. 

My main thought after getting ahold of myself was, "THAT was freaking!" And contrary to the guys who said they waited days or weeks to try it again, I was back in my secret bathroom only a couple of hours later working on another stiff boner and producing another nice set of feelings.


Monday, March 2, 2015

The Special Boy

If this writer's information is correct in his Story, it's surprising that not a single one of the sixth graders knew how to jack off. I hear the age of puberty is getting earlier all the time. Maybe those kids were just playing it safe, and didn’t let anybody know they were already jacking.

When I was in sixth grade there was at least one boy who was already shooting cum. Lets call him Kenny, he was somewhat "slow" as we said back then. But he had a friend Casey who was a sharp little dude. Casey acted almost like Kenny’s manager. They would pass the word that Kenny was going to jack off in the restroom at a certain time, or behind the bushes at recess.

 Casey charged 50 cents to watch or 1.00 if you wanted to feel. Four or five boys might watch, or sometimes only one. I was one of their regular customers. If I was the only one watching, they offered me a discount…… if I showed them my dick and let Kenny play with my stiffie while he jacked himself. I couldn't cum yet but when I was ready I knew all about it.