Thursday, June 22, 2017

Adventures on the Moon - Discovery Missions

I really do think that I grew up as a kid in a time that being a kid was much more fun than it is today. We used to take our bikes for miles and miles and miles. My parents woulda been shocked if they knew where we ended up sometimes. An ever-ready scout, my map and my compass handily helped us out more than once when we got our idiot selves lost!

And oh yeah...the classic summer apparel was a t-shirt and cut-off blue jeans. Those cut-offs were usually from a pair of jeans that you had outgrown so just about all of us innocently revealed the developing bits inside our shorts. Even though we were just 13 years old, our emerging male development was already bulging in front with our round little butts pushing out the backside. I bet we all looked pretty sexy. And, we'd cut the legs super-short, too.)  Any time one of us relaxed on a rock or knelt down, the accidental appearance of tighty-whities was inevitable.However nobody ever really said much about it because it was such a common occurrence.

I was a young teenager in the early 1970’s, and in many ways I think it was a much better time to be a kid than it is today. With only three television stations and no Internet, social media, or video games, there wasn’t all that much to do inside the house. Consequently, during the summer we spent almost all of our time outside having fun with our friends. It was also a much more trusting time. We didn’t worry that every stranger might be a pervert waiting for an opportunity to molest us, and our parents didn’t worry that we might be kidnapped or shot if we try to leave the yard.
Particularly for us boys, our bicycles were our one true freedom. There were many days where with one friend or a group of friends we would leave the neighborhood on our bikes at 9 AM and not return home until supper time. We had our bikes equipped with wire metal baskets that hung down on both sides of the rear wheel. We would load these baskets with needed supplies for our explorations, and I always took along a detailed map and my Boy Scout compass which both came in handy more times than I would like to admit. On top of the baskets we could strap a cooler with sandwiches and cans of pop chilled in ice.

With that background, I thought I would share with your readers one of the very special and exciting areas my best friend and I used to go to on our summertime day-long biking explorations.
We discovered a path or a trail that took us down through a lot of overgrowth to the edge of the river that flowed through our town. This path was a few miles well outside of town. There were absolutely no houses around, and this path was much too narrow for a car to travel. Toward the end of this trail we discovered what looked to us like a giant “meteor crater”. It was round, probably 75 to 100 yards in diameter, and the rim of the crater was a ridge rising maybe 20 feet above the path (and then dropping 15 feet into the center of the crater). This was probably some form of water overflowed basin, but in our young minds we were absolutely certain we had discovered a prehistoric meteor crater. We studied our encyclopedias and Time magazine about Space and imagined how some galactic phenomenon from another galaxy had surely made this impression, and it was us who had claim of discovery. We told no one until we had the entire depression mapped and each characteristic rock formation was named. There was Pine knob, Glass cove, and The Fiery Forest, which was named after a lone tree in the clearing that had probably burned due to lightning strike. The fiery forest was well seeded by our young sperm, as it held many tempting shady spots for us to cool down from our long journey, and have a nice slow wank.

I need to mention that this friend and I were also very active waking buddies. Usually under the covers during sleep-overs we jerked our gherkins to a drizzle of pleasure. Often comparing how much oozed out,  or who had more hairs down there. So back to the crater, once we realized this was absolutely in the middle of nowhere, with no other people or cars ever to be seen we both concluded this was a terrific private outdoor spot for us to pull down our shorts and jerk off together. It took us about 30 minutes to bike to this location, but it soon became a favorite destination for us, and our private activities soon became more and more daring. Not to mention the devilment  enhanced our sexual enjoyment as that summer went on. We both agreed that we loved the feeling of the warm sun and summer breeze against our genitals and our small patches of pubic hair lifted a new sensation as the air freely caressed our endorphins to tempt new discoveries. We came to realize it was quite safe for us to strip completely naked (except for our socks and sneakers) then perhaps spend as much as an hour exploring this crater completely in the nude. (Looking back, it is a good thing neither of us got sunburn on our dicks! That would have been really hard to explain.) We began bringing a big beach towel with us so we could start doing some extremely enjoyable 69 activity outside, completely naked, in the warm summer sun.
I miss those exciting boyhood journeys, and I don’t think boys of today are doing much of anything as exciting as we were, back so long ago. It was as if we were space pioneers on a journey that no one had ever dared to explore, especially nude like us. Everyone knew Astronauts wore special suits, and here we went boldly going as "No boy" had gone before.... in just the suit we were born in.

 As I get time, I'll send in some more stories of the Moon Crater if the readers like it.

Thanks if it gets posted.
Ziggy

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

What are Friends For

In the age and place I grew up (USA), virtually all boys were circumcised, including me. But I guess as a very young boy I never realized that the tip or head on my penis actually had such an unusual shape to it. That was until age 11 when me and my best friend started daring each other to pull down our pants and flash our dicks at each other for a quick peek. That clearly forbidden activity did not take long before they’d get erect and we’d be flashing our stiff little penises at each other. And then, somehow we decided we should try grabbing hold of each other’s boner, like they were intentionally placed handles on our bodies.

I think it was in seeing, touching, and examining my friend’s erect little penis that I discovered the head of his penis was far from shaped like a round ball with a hole in it. I discovered that the head of his penis was substantially bigger-looking on the top side than it was on the bottom side, and the piss hole definitely was not coming out of a place where there was equal parts below it and above it. Then I took a very good look at my own penis and discovered mine was shaped pretty much just like his was.

That began a time of more intense private and personal discovery.  In the privacy of my room I discovered that the bottom of my penis head looked like it came together from both sides, and right in the middle it looked sort of like the scar I had on my arm from when I was 7 years old. This was when I first noticed that touching myself along this sort of scar by touching it there I could MAKE it get stiff! (I had never before realized that not only did my penis sometimes get stiff all by itself, but I could actually touch it in special places and ways where I could now make it get stiff if I wanted to.)

Washing it in the bathtub shortly after that, I rubbed along that special area and, sure enough, up it went. But, YEOW! Those areas seemed a lot more delicate and sensitive!

The next time me and my friend decided to play with our dicks together, I tried touching these same special areas on his penis. And, I got the same responses. When I rubbed his shaft right behind the head he told me it felt nice or that it tickled. But when I rubbed the head hard and fast he pulled away and told me that it was way too sensitive to touch those spots like that.

Neither of us yet knew anything about orgasms or ejaculating. But technically it appears we had unknowingly discovered masturbation – how to make amazing and wonderful feelings come about by touching our penises in very special places and ways.

As it turned out, I was the first one to shockingly experience my first climax and squirt. It happened because one day, several months after all this experimentation began, I just kept rubbing and rubbing those special areas and the more I rubbed the better it felt. And then, that special uncontrollable intense feeling came over me for the very first time.  I didn’t know what it was or if it was dangerous to do it, so I didn’t tell my friend about it for more than a month. Then one day, I had probably masturbated and climaxed 30 or more times by then,

I told him I had something very special and secret to show him. Amazingly he suggested a sleep-over, which served as the perfect event for his initiation. That night, by my hand, he had his very first orgasm too.

Anonymous

The Bridge of Sighs



One reader has talked about people's first ejaculations. Mine happened under a bridge two blocks from the apartments where we lived. We had a one-bedroom apartment for five people. It was noisy and people were always mad and yelling at each other. I would go and hide under the bridge to be by myself.
The bridge spanned a concrete drainage canal. I would climb up the angled embankments and play (or just hide) right under the concrete roadway above.
That started in the fifth grade when we moved there. I also pissed and crapped under the bridge. Not sure how that started. Maybe I didn't want to go home to use the bathroom, or maybe it was a way of proving that the bridge was MY domain.
Sometimes I stood to piss, and watched my little puddle run down the embankment and make wet patterns on the cement. I would also try to see how far in the air I could piss before the stream hit the concrete, or how wide I could spread my pee by twisting my body back and forth while pissing. Another way I pissed, I would lay on my side on the flat top of the embankment, point my dick over the edge, and let every drop of pee flow out that I could possibly release.
That's how it got started that I would get my dick out while I was by myself in my private place.
Around the time that I was thirteen I became very aware of my erections. My dick became more than a spigot to drain my piss. It turned into a fascinating object that needed attention and "exercise" when it was stiff.
Going to my bridge took on a new dimension. I was no longer going there for a negative reason (to escape the chaos at the apartment), but I was now going there as a destination to play with my dick.
I had several ways of exercising my erection. I would wiggle it rapidly back and forth and think of it as a metronome. Sometimes I used it for a gearshift and made engine noises while shifting my hard-on. I also pretended it was the handle of a plunger which had to be pumped up and down.
One day in the spring of the eighth grade I was laying on the concrete ledge, laying on my back with my stiff dick sticking out of my zipper, giving it the usual round of exercise. Maybe I had felt the feelings of sexual urgency before, but I really think this was the first time. My entire body felt altered in some way, maybe lighter, almost like I was hovering over myself and watching myself as a separate person. At the same time that happened, I had an irresistible impulse to do the "plunger" exercise to my erection.
I started feeling totally weird - I could tell that "something" was going on with me, something that was changing the way I thought and felt, something that might be dangerous. I clearly thought to myself, "a few more times of doing the plunger, and I promise I will stop."
About that time (before I could stop) the rush of feelings hit me all over. I was masturbating my stiff dick like crazy, unable to stop and yet hating myself for continuing.
The climax was so profound that it felt like I bounced up off the ledge and then back down.
I was not expecting an ejaculation - did not even know there was such a thing. So when my spray of cum squirted up into the air and my body spasmed sexually for the very first time, I was petrified. My family was only slightly religious, and the whole topic of God and church was mysterious to me, yet at the instant that the cum sprayed out, I had a religious experience, thinking, "God, if you get me out of this, I will be in church every Sunday."
I probably laid there ten minutes without moving, waiting for my breath to slow down and thinking about what it was that I had done to myself. When I finally sat up, it turned out that most of the cum had showered down on my clothes, so my focus changed to how I could get into the house and change clothes without anybody seeing me.
I'm guessing that a month went by before I felt absolutely compelled to do the plunger exercise on my dick again. I still believed that it was dangerous, but my body had an unexplainable desire to try the experience again.  That time I took the precaution of laying on my side to keep the ejaculation from raining down on my clothes.  Gradually I became comfortable with masturbation, and then completely in love with the act. From that time on I went to my bridge not just to be by myself, but in great anticipation, looking forward to enjoying the wonderful experience of jacking off.

BK

Sunday, June 11, 2017

So Many Dirty Socks

I lived in a mobile home where I raised my nephew when this story took place. He was about 13 at the time.

His bedroom was right next to my bedroom, so often I could hear what he was doing in bed by the sounds of his bed moving. One day, I was gathering up the laundry in his room when I looked down and saw a sock just under his bed. I got down on my knees to retrieve the sole sock, but also looked under his bed to find lots of his socks. I started to pull them all out from under his bed.  The slightest inspection was obvious, most of his socks were stuck together. On a whim,  I looked at them closer, yup dried cum.

Just as I began throwing his socks into the basket he walked into the room. He said, "Uncle Jim,  I can explain about the socks being under my bed."

I turned around and said,  "There is nothing to explain, they're just dirty socks." I continue to throw them into the basket.

As I was walking by him, he said,
 "Uncle Jim, I'll just put my dirty socks in the laundry basket from now on.
I rubbed his head and said  "Thank you."

Farm Boy

Friday, June 2, 2017

How A Boy Chooses the Best Camp

Where I live, school was out last Friday. Summer has begun for all the kids. And summer means camps. I grew up in this town and I remember the camps. If a guy worked it right, he might attend several camps in one summer. Back then the Baptists had a camp, as well as the Catholics, the Optimists, the YMCA and others. Some of my most profound memories are centered on those camps.

One really great summer I made friends with a guy who introduced me to mutual jacking. This was at "Camp X" (not going to print the real name). I had been getting my nuts off by myself for about a year, but this guy helped me over the hump into buddy jerking. He was the first friend to touch my junk and to let me touch his. I would get incredible stiffies while he tickled me. As a measure of how strongly he aroused me, the first time we jacked off together I was so horny that I was still erect afterwards. I went off and shot my stuff a second time just minutes after the two of us finished each other.

There were lots of places to hide in the bushes at "Camp X." My new friend liked for me to get completely naked and lay down on the ground. Then he tickled and touched and worked on my entire body. Finally he zeroed in on my dick and balls and manipulated me very slowly until my spunk erupted in an explosive fountain. After I came he would take care of himself or ask me to do it for him. He would need only a few strokes before shooting his load.

We made a deal to meet a couple weeks later at "Camp Z" but there was too much supervision to have much fun. However, we found each other the next two summers at "Camp X" again and spent a lot of time doing wonderful things with each other, things that always culminated in the twin ejaculations of deep friendship.

I hope the latest generation of campers have a great time amusing and amazing one another.

Anonymous Camper