Sunday, May 26, 2019

Pirate's Hideaway Island (Part II)

(Part II of III)

We named our island “Pirate’s Hideaway”. That summer we swam out there probably 3 or 4 times a week depending on the weather. Most of the days when we didn’t go, it was because it was either cold or raining. And we both tried to “not do it and save up” on those days, so our cumshots would be “extra big” when we next did it together on our island.

 Over our next several visits to Pirates Hideaway we realized more and more how completely private it was, and I think that made us get bolder and bolder. We even checked and found out that the park police didn’t even own a boat, so there was no possible way that we could be discovered and “visited” by the police. And there was never any boat or rowboat on the lake, and we never saw anyone else ever try to swim out to our island. We quickly became two horny young teenage nudists. As soon as we’d climb on shore we would strip off our swim trunks and stay completely naked the entire time we were on our island. Often times, we’d be there two or more hours, and every day admittedly included at least one major jerk off session. There wasn’t a day that we didn’t leave the island with less semen in us than what we hid inside of us when we had arrived.

 There was one area on the shoreline of the island that we named “Hidden Cove”. It was a horseshoe-shaped indent with trees on both sides that actually made a little sunny beach and an area that was easy to walk out into the water and swim. This quickly became our nude sunbathing and swimming area. I remember so many relaxing days where we would just sit or lie in the sun, completely naked. At Hidden Cove I explored and pleasured every speck of his genitals with my hands and my mouth, and he’d do the same to me. We loved making it last to the point the other would beg to let him cum, and then those orgasms were among the very best I have ever had in my life! I don’t know whether being a young nudist on that island was more sensual or sexual, but it was definitely a combination of both.

 I discovered that I really enjoyed the relaxed, free feeling of being completely naked outside in the sun, and feeling the warm breeze on my dick and through my bush. It was a pleasure and a calmness and relaxation that was so indescribably good that I can’t even find words for it. Hidden Cove became our favorite place to masturbate each other, slowly giving each other pleasure and doing some 69 while we lied completely naked and relaxed in the warm sun. It was an absolutely fabulous secret summer, and we never ran into any problems or were discovered by anyone. That really surprised us, but we had also made a pact to each other that we would never tell anyone about our private island.


Saturday, May 25, 2019

Naked on Our Secret Island (Part I)

Guys we've not had a multi-part story in quite a while. Here we go with an outdoor adventurous pair, perfect for the onset of Summer. 
 Segment 1 of  3

 I grew up in a small town, and was a young teenager in the late 1970s. My best friend was a boy named Jason who was in my grade and lived just a few doors up the street from me. We became great friends in 5th grade, and our friendship grew even closer in 7th grade when we also became jerk off buddies. In our town there was a small oval shaped 60-acre lake bordered on one end by a park that included a small public beach and swimming area. The lake was nowhere near big enough for anyone to build a house or a cottage along the shore nor were there ever any boats or watercraft on this little lake. There was also a small, about 3 acre, island almost right in the middle of the lake. Jason and I wondered what the island was like, and we enjoyed making up stories about things like murders and the dead bodies being hidden on that island. Jason and I would ride our bikes down to the park almost daily during the summer, having loads of fun at the activities at the park and swimming at the beach.4

 The summer when we were both 14, we were both pretty good swimmers and we decided to try secretly swimming out to the island to see what it was like and to explore it. We knew we couldn’t swim out from the public swimming area because we’d surely get whistled back and reprimanded by the lifeguard. So we hiked well past the park area into an undeveloped part of the shoreline where we knew that once in the water we couldn’t be seen from the beach or by the lifeguard. We climbed into the water and it was a fairly easy swim for us out to the island.

 We were both so excited when we got out of the water onto the island. We felt like we were at a secret place where we weren’t supposed to be, and for young teenage boys that was quite thrilling. We immediately started to explore the island. Some areas had trees and brush and were well hidden from view from anywhere, and other areas were out in the open sunlight.

 After maybe a half-hour of general exploring, Jason suggested we go back to one of the hidden areas and completely take off our swim trunks off and jack off naked together. I’ll admit the thought of it was pretty exciting because I hadn’t masturbated outside too many times, and I had never masturbated outside completely naked. So we hiked back into a hidden area, pulled off our swim trunks and we both already had throbbing super-stiff boners. We stood there next to each other, doing what we had done many times in the past. We spent some time stroking our own then also stroking each other’s. We ended up that day each finishing off ourselves, and I remember it was an absolutely fantastic climax for me. My cum squirted at least a couple of feet. I then started to put back on my swim trunks, but Jason suggested we both just stay naked and walk around like that for a while.

 I will admit that I was nervous walking around completely nude, especially because we went and walked around some of the edge of the island, both in and out of the water, where it was possible that maybe we could be seen. But then we both realized there was nothing around the shoreline of this lake where anyone could possibly see us. After maybe an hour and a half we decided to put our trunks back on and swim back to shore. We then got on our bikes and went back to my house for the rest of the afternoon. We were so excited talking about the secret and forbidden things we had done that day, what we thought about different parts of the island, and how much fun and how great it felt to jack off completely naked outside. We then decided that the next day we were definitely going to swim back to spend some more time on “our island”.


Let's Play Tickle-Dickie

Change of subject. Did anybody out there play "Tickle-Dickle" when you were young?

 I first learned about it when I was maybe 8. Me and two friends were at the neighborhood swimming pool. Afterwards we went into the changing room and I guess we all got bare at the same time. One of my friends reached down and gave my junk a touch, saying "Tickle-Dickle!"

That sent us into hilarious laughter and we all had a go at doing the tickle-dickle thing on each other. After while some other people came in and we hurried to get our clothes on. But we now had a taste of our first little sexual adventure. I knew it was "wrong" (we all knew that) but it was irresistible. we went to the pool every time our parents would let us, and watched for moments when the changing room was vacant. We pulled down our suits and gave each other's business a few little fingertip touches. The game expanded beyond the pool. Before long, whenever we could get alone in any safe place, we dropped our pants and played a few rounds of tickle-dickle on each other's crotch.

It was during these fun tickle-dickle games that we noticed things like erections and shriveled balls. We outgrew the silly game around the time we were in fifth grade, but later it popped up again when the three of us learned to wank. Tickle-Dickle became secret code for three best buds to jack off together.


Friday, May 24, 2019

The Trouble With Eagles

 I have a theory about boys like this Eagle scout. I think they get harder and hornier than normal dudes because they resist the normal everyday opportunities to be earthy.

 For instance, a "good" boy would resist cursing and dirty jokes and other things. So as a subconscious reward to himself he urgently jacks his ramrod and loves every stroke on the way to a healthy cumshot.

The boy in this story probably could not wait to hop in bed every night and enjoy his stiff peter.


Shared Spunk

 When I was very young, me and a friend were standing facing each other and jerking each other off with our pants pulled all the way down. I didn't realize until we were done and I pulled my pants back up that lots of my friend's cum landed IN my pulled-down underpants.

  I spent the rest of the day with the feeling of this yucky dampness against by balls, from HIS cum in my pants.


Thursday, May 23, 2019

My Discreet Indulgence

The thing that I liked to do when I was younger from ages 13 to 16 was to jack off in the same room as a friend but only when they were asleep. I never did anything nefarious like trying to cum on their body or make them touch me. I only would jack off in the same room while they slept. I'd have this crazy orgasm, cum would be spraying out of my dick and meanwhile my friend would be snoring away. I only did this at my own house when a friend slept over, could never get the nerve to do it at their houses and to me it didn't feel right. It was a step too far for me.

 One time I was 14 or so my friend and I were sleeping and I checked to see that he was asleep.All clear, so I started jacking away and just as I came to a gasping climax with cum shooting out of my dick! My friend shot up in bed. "Dude, what are you doing?" I tried to come up with an explanation but before I could he laid back down, snoring and seemingly fast asleep. The next morning I wasn't sure if he had actually seen me but he never mentioned it. I think he was sleep talking.

The close call put me off of doing this for a while but as it became clear he had no memory of my climax I started doing it again. I guess I just grew out of it but it was a fun way to spice up my normal private time.


Making History on the Observation Deck

I've got a little story to tell you. It happened a long time ago. Why I didn't tell it before now, anybody can figure how old I am when I start telling it. Which is a private thing with me. But yeah, I got to thinking, nobody knows me, and if you think I'm an old fart that's your privilege.

All right here is the topic. People jerk their gherkin in funny places. Agreed. And eveyrbody knows the Space Needle right? Big world's fair tower in Seattle. My family, we went up there for the fair. Big vacation, you know, Mom and Pop and three kids in a 1957 DeSoto without air conditioning. And I tell you straight out it was 1962, now you know. I was 13 and getting into the swing of pumping my pole real regular. Yes, I was a boomer. Yes, I was good at getting one out when the need came up. We knew what it was all about back then.

That fair, it was a gas. I loved it and still remember it through the eyes of a 13-year-old. Of course we had to go up that tower. It was a little scary. And I don't know if it was fear or height or just a unexplained boner. I got good and hard going up the elevator which made me keep moving my dick around. Wearing shorts and out on the deck the wind is whipping around and ever so oftan a puff of wind goes up the leg of my shorts. I invite you to understand that we got just as horny back in the day. Like you do now.

Well here is this boner still in my pants up on the high deck. All the rest of them was ready to go back down. I said go right ahead. I want to stay up here a while. Will meet you later. Big fuss with mom. My dad said, he is a boy and wants to see how it is put together and how everything works. Let him stay. Off they go, down the elevator.

I did not care a whit about how it was put together. I walk around and look it over. A bench went all around the center of the tower and out past the bench was the places to stand and look way off in the distance. Now I got my plan. I sit on the bench and pull my t shirt out some and lean forward and go to whacking my bone real slow with my fingers under the shirt. Have to stop a lot if people walk past. After some time I feel ready. Stand up and go to the viewing place which has wire fence all around so people don't fall off. My bone is ready. I go to scratching my biggie from side to side on the fence!

In a minute it feels just right. The stuff is on the way. I think God, how boss I am for doing this! Still doing it back and forth on the fence wire. People around but they don't know! I guess they think just a boy leaning up against the fence.

I was ready. Then it came making me feel good. The stuff shot inside my underpants. I loved it no matter the mess. Went down the elevator and found my family. Said I had to go to the bathroom. Went in and cleaned my self up sort of half-assed with butt paper.

Maybe I was the only boy to ever shoot a load up on the space needle? And for you who would laugh at an old guy, I still can remember how good that shot felt way back many years ago.

I wish you all a well and happy life.

Space Needle Spunker

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

The Wierd Guy and My First Shot

 This story tells how I woke up as while my very first ejaculation was taking place when I was twelve.

While playing in the city park I went into the restroom and stood at the long trough urinal to piss. Another boy was also at the urinal. I recognized him from school; he was a grade ahead of me. While I pissed he stood very still. But something was going on. He was steadily moving his hand back and forth on his dick, something I had never seen before. The other boy stopped jacking for a moment and let his bare dick stick up. I was sure he did that that to show me how big it was. He wiggled it a little and then resumed moving his hand back and forth.

I felt very self-conscious but was also strangely rooted to the spot. At last I overcame my inertia. I put my dick away and was zipping my fly when the other guy spoke.

"You don't have to leave," he said in a soft voice.

I was in a state of nervous excitement, wanting to watch the boy play with his dick but knowing that it wasn't nice.

His hand constantly slid back and forth. Suddenly he said, "It's coming." A spray of opaque liquid shot onto the wall above the trough. Now I was definitely puzzled, wondering what had just happened.

The other guy left without saying another word.

My own dick had turned into a stubborn stiffie. Even into the evening the memory of what I'd seen made my boner randomly rise up in my pants. By bedtime I was so concentrated on my boner that I couldn't think of anything else. I got into bed wearing my briefs and lay there aware of nothing but my erection.

Somehow I fell asleep, but in the middle of the night I woke up still erect and very worried. My dick was not only hard, it was kind of jumping around, having spasms every few seconds.

And then the cum came. No bells or whistles, no feeling of ecstasy, no climax, just a warm puddle spreading all over my groin and whities.

That initial cumshot was the result of the boy in the park restroom wanting me to watch what he was doing.

There's a little more to the story. It took me months before I tried the pumping procedure myself. When I began jacking off I thought it would be cool to show the other guy what I could do. But then I realized that he was a very strange person. I didn't know there was such a concept as "effeminate," but the dude was prissy and weird. As far as I could tell, he was the one person that the whole school laughed at. We could probably have become jack partners, but his strangeness set off alarms in my head and I never went near him, never showed him what I'd learned from him that day in the park.


Hrmm, I wonder how many of us met a Femme guy and was a bit confused, but also slightly interested in knowing about him. I did but he was a Freshman, and I was a Sophomore in HS.
Eric ~

Saturday, May 18, 2019

Incredible Discovery at the Museum

This story was submitted anonymously as a bare bones description of the event primarily in noun and verb format. I enhanced it slightly for publication's sake, but adhering to the author's described actions which took place.

So, on a Field trip in eighth grade to a Museum. Lots of display cases with boring crap in each one. But we're supposed to take in what we see, or the teacher will make you write a report. I'm cruising along, behind a row of kids all pretending to care about the trinkets and doo-dads with labels of dates and scientific names. I'm wishing I had played sick and stayed on the bus, but strange as hell,  I discover the display cases are at just the right height for an intriguing yet pleasurable dick massage.

  So me with my typical 13 year old's random boner, it just begins popping-up all random as shit. Thankfully the lights go off for a video. Like any dude in this condition,  I'm instantly rub-a-dub-dub on the edge of a case! OOH! Feelin' good. I'm really not thinking bout the video, or not even the nice legs I'd seen on the bus earlier, just focused on the delight of my dick and it's encounter with a cool metal edge making a new kind of history.

  Then, Shit! Damn  lights come beck on. I'm not even finished yet! All primed to climax. The squawking Museum lady starts rambling on again. What the hell!! Screw-it, I keep doing my dong revolving back and forth on the case. Thinking what an idiot I am. Edging and getting there. I can't believe I am doing it in a room full of people.

 Now! SPRITZ goes the seed of life. Mindless little pervert me, I end up all messy in my junk! Fuggin' hate it in my boxers, and some dripped down the leg of my jeans for ultimate discomfort. Wet gooey nasty mess. But I came and how the Fuck nobody knew??

Whew, I guess this counts as my Museum report.Did I get and "A"?


Thursday, May 16, 2019

The Year-Long Wait

From some of the stories it sounds like most boys went to a lot of camps. Not me.

 My only camp was when I was 12. I still remember it for one reason, it was the first time I noticed that I got erections. Until that camp I didn't even know that I would like to see other  guys dicks. But that very quickly became the main thing that I liked about that camp. It was so easy to see dicks when we all took a shower. And then some boys just let their dick show when they changed clothes in the cabin. I was always secretly peeking!

 One day I had to sit on the toilet. I was feeling my dick and it was "different." It was hard. I could not let it alone because it was so strange. I wiggled it and played with it. After that it would get hard every time I took a dump. I think looking at dicks made it hard (but that was many years ago).

After the camp it still got hard. Sometimes when I did not need to shit. So I went and sat on the toilet anyway......mostly because of wanting to play with my hard dick. It would get funny feeling and stay hard even after I left the bathroom. I was not yet making cum, but always playing with my boner.

It was the next summer, about a year after that camp. One day I was playing with it and felt like I could not stop. It got more and more crazy. Then I got a fantastic climax and made my first cum-shot. It was scary! But also felt so excellent. Strange how it took so long to discover that fine orgasmic feeling. For over a year  before learning to cum I just had a blast playing with my hard-on.


Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Dealing with My Reputation

 You people with your dweeb stories, you are dragging up bad memories for me. I don't think I was a dweeb. I acted very masculine and went out for football starting in middle school. However I had a secret life getting my jollies by playing with other boys' dicks. Just playing with stiffies at first and then discovering how delightful masturbation was.

 Like these other guys have said, word got around and ruined my life. I was bullied and laughed at and shamed. One of the counselors heard about my secret. He was not at all understanding. Told me I brought it on myself and would just have to live with it.

 My parents realized that something was wrong, although I don't think they guessed at that time that I was gay. Bless their long-departed souls, in the middle of ninth grade they moved me from public school to a Catholic boys school. There was just as much masturbation and sexual exploration at that school, probably even more, but it was more hidden because the boys were under pressure not to be caught doing anything sinful. I played dumb and pretended not to understand what people were talking about. I went into the closet and slammed the door. Stayed there the rest of my school years. It was my choice, my conscious search for self-preservation even though I knew who and what I really was.

 The up-side of this story is that I developed a strong sense of gaydar while pretending to be straight. That was a valuable resource when I finally unlocked the closet and moved into a freshman dorm at a large university.


Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Increased Traffic Detected in Blog Hit Counter

One of our long-time authors contacted me recently with the following note regarding this blog-

Eric, Ever so often the "engineering" part of me takes over. I did a little math yesterday. From 6 AM on Sunday the 5th until 6 AM on Sunday the 12th the OOTS4ever blog received 9,522 page-views. That's 9.5K visits in the course of a week. Continuing to break it down, it figures at 1,360 visits per day or 56.67 per hour. And get this: Rounding just a tad, that's one page-view every minute!

One-page-view-every-honkin'-minute!!! Outstanding, my friend!

But why aren't the readers commenting? Good stories get posted one after another and nobody has anything to say? We loved the conversations about junior high showers, about first experiences, about camp, about whitie tighties. Surely the current stories ought to spark the same sort of debate - so why is it nothing but crickets out there?

I pondered his words for a day then replied.

 Thanks, I am pleased that you take that sort of interest in the blog and it's success. Indeed lately there has been an increase in daily traffic. After the nukage in December we quickly gained a good stride of about 1,000 hits daily. I was pleased with that, although it was lower numbers than before OOTS4U2 got choked by blogger. At that stage we were clocking about 1,500 daily. Even when we were cruising with that lofty volume of readers and potential authors, we still received a low  rate of comments, or stories submitted. It was indeed better involvement than our old days of 250 hits daily, and about 3 comments per week.

 However lately it is a continued trend with few readers conversing or generating an open dialogue about given stories. I can assure you it is not ME deleting the comments or failing to post them. I rarely censor. The only reasons I do would be if there is blatant and improper interest in minors, or insulting to an author. Most readers review our FAQ, and have a general sense that they should behave here.

 So that brings me to my assumption. I can't honestly validate it but here is my thought. I feel that guys are too shy, or too worried that somehow their comments could be traced directly back to them. I believe it is fear of reproach for viewing a site that deals with intimate issues of our youth. I reckon that even our anonymous comment ability might still seem too frightening for some. However let me assure these guys,  there is nothing I can detect in a digital aspect about our anonymous comment users. Provided they are reporting events from their own youth with others of like-age,  there is no harm-no foul. So let it out and tell us your thoughts. 

 To encourage more involvement from readers, I suppose I could be more pro-active, perhaps inserting a short lead-in on select stories. Describing some bullet points about the story to pique the reader's interest, perhaps they might be more inclined to share their thoughts?.

 Perhaps some of our shy ones might offer up the reason they feel reserved about commenting, we would like to know your thoughts.


**Remember my email address is "outofthshadowsstory(at symbol)"**

Saturday, May 11, 2019

Summer Pool Partners

When I was a teen, specifically the summer when I was 14, I went swimming almost every day at a local public pool. I could easily ride my bike there so it was easy to get to. I friended-up with another boy there who went to a different school than me. His name was Jason.

We both rode our bikes, and soon it got to the point we were arriving at the same time every day . I always brought clothes to change into but he didn’t. Then one day he brought clothes to change into, instead of wearing his trunks under his pants and then just riding home in his wet trunks. Also, it seemed, when I decided to leave, he decided to go at the same time, too. So we both hit the locker room at the same time.

 The locker room had toilet stalls (where the shy guys changed) but there were open areas near the showers where you could also change. I actually usually changed out in the open but with Jason there and us guys  just building a friendship It felt weird to change in front of him. All the stalls were in use at the moment that day so I told him I was going to wait for one to open. But he started joking with me that ‘we were both guys’, and he didn’t mind changing in the open and kind of tried to embarrass me about being modest about my body (which I really wasn’t).

With that he pulled off his trunks and started drying himself off, of course he's standing there naked. So now I felt like a moron standing there waiting. So I pulled off my trunks, too. He's taking ages to dry himself off, whisking every droplet of water from each nook of his body.  I couldn’t help but notice, maybe I was wrong, but he seemed to be staring at my dick. I didn’t say anything to him, because maybe I was just actually being a little modest, but that’s what he seemed to be doing.

For the next few days, the same thing happened. When I decided to leave, he decided to leave, too. If I dropped my trunks with my back to him, he moved around so he was facing my front. I was getting to feel like I knew why. It never bothered me since he was cool to me, and I reckon I kinda liked the attention. 

 At that point in my life I had never yet jerked off with anyone. I always did that alone. But I heard of some boys that  did sometimes do it together. I was now pretty sure he had an interest in my dick. So one day when we went to the locker room I decided to test it out. I walked to the back where the lockers pretty much away from open view. I had decided I was going to give him a little show and see how he responded.

  I was an awful tease. I started to drop my trunks, but suddenly slapped my leg like a bug bit me. So I am standing there with my rear exposed, and my front still covered. I asked him to look and see if he thought it was a spider bite. He leaned in close to the front of my thighs. But he said all he could see was a hand print. I asked him to check again when the slap mark subsides. He agreed, but I knew I had his eyes focused and close to where he wanted to look. I turned away and proceed to pull off my trunks. I started drying my privates in a way that would stimulate myself a little bit. As usual he found himself facing my front. So then when I pulled my towel away I had maybe about 60 % of a full boner going on. He then looked at it and said to me, “Wow, dude, look at your dick!” I pretended to be embarrassed and said that sometimes it gets stiff on its own for no reason, and I said, “Doesn’t yours??” too. He offered to look at my bug bitten leg again. I complied with his interest. Which placed his face about 6 inches from my dangling boner. I'm sure he saw every wrinkle on my sac and maybe even memorized the shape of my glans. But he sure did not see any bug bite.

The next day at the pool, right away he asked me if I “took care of that boner” when I got home, which was admittedly really embarrassing that he even mentioned it. He then told me that he had “jacked off twice” that afternoon after we left. So our friendship seemed to now be taking a turn toward talking about boners and wanking habits. That day he walked right back to the same isolated place in the locker room and his mind must have really been going because that day, when he pulled down his trunks he already had pretty much a full erection going on. I pulled down my trunks and I was, like usual, completely soft. He then said to me that he thought maybe my boner was bigger than his, and he asked me to try to stiffen it up so we could compare. (Remember that this was in a public pool locker room.) We were in that that secluded area, but there were other boys coming in and out of the locker room all the time while we were in there. There was no way we could inspect each other there.
After dressing, when we were about to get on our bikes and leave he asked me if I wanted to come to his house. This was before cell phones so I said okay as long as I could call my mom as soon as we got there to let her know where I was.

His parents both worked so we were alone in the house. As soon as we got there he took me to his bedroom and told me he has something special to show me. From deep within  his closet he pulled out a box, at the bottom of the box were about a dozen well-worn Penthouse and Hustler magazines. He told me he wanted to show me a few of the “really hot babes” that were his favorites. This all led up to him getting me to agree to get on his bed with him and both of us pull our pants down and touch each other, imaging or pretending that it was one of those girls playing with our dicks because it wasn’t our own hands touching ourselves.  I had never done anything like that with another boy. Nobody had ever touched my dick, and I had never touched anybody else’s dick either. But apparently my body liked it because I did get a nice erection pretty quick, and his got hard quickly too.
 I was very reluctant to do what we were now doing, but when he put some lotion on his hand and wrapped it around my stiff penis, the feeling was absolutely amazing. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed what he was doing to me. After not too long I began to feel like I was close to cumming and I told him or warned him. He just started rubbing me faster and harder. I told him I better take my shirt off if I was going to cum. It only took seconds to shed the unwanted clothing.

He then started stroking me again and I quickly exploded a huge load all over myself. I have to admit it felt amazing having someone else for the first time bring my dick to orgasm. He then told me I needed to then do him. Of course this was the first time I ever stroked another boy’s erect penis, but that was enjoyable, too, and he shot a big load, too.
That summer we quickly became almost daily jerk-off buddies. It was a summer I’ll never forget.


Our Scouts Secret

I came across an old photo of me and a friend at Boy Scout camp, a very, very long time ago. Thje memories of that camp-out came rushing forward and these are the details.

We were barely 13 at the time. I was maybe 3 months older than Wade when we tented together for the first time on a weekend camp-out. Wade and I went to the same school, and were in the same Scout troop. He was blonde and had an Irish sounding last name.

 By that time I had already developed a pretty much every-night-before-bed wanking habit, and in that tent on the first night I so badly wanted to (or needed to) jerk myself off. But crappers I wasn’t alone. So then after lights-out, Wade struck up a quiet conversation with me about girls, and which ones in school that we thought were cute. I hinted at it until eventually Wade admitted that he, too sometimes “did things” to relieve himself when he got too horny.  We ended up deciding that we were both too horny to be able to get to sleep, and it would be okay if we each took care of ourselves in the tent together. And of course in our special Scouts Honor, this is something we’d never tell anybody else that we each did it together in the tent.

Like a V-Twin we were pumping ourselves separately inside our sleeping bags. It was feeling  great, but then I said to him that I didn’t want to get “that stuff” onto the inside of my bag. Maybe I should unzip it and go with-it.  He said that was okay with him. So I was the first to expose my bare erect penis. I started stroking it clearly in his view if he wanted to see it. Pretty soon he said that he didn’t want to get “that stuff” in the inside of his sleeping bag either, so he opened up his sleeping bag too.

 Now I act like I've got my eyes to myself, but I was actually doing everything I could to watch him yanking his stiff peter. I started getting real close. I ask him to watch me cum so he could see if I accidentally squirted any onto my sleeping bag. So as I got very close, he stopped and kneeled over me to watch where my cum landed. I had a fantastic cum. He told me he didn’t see any of it go astray, but commented that I had shot some of it several inches above my belly button. I wiped-up with tissues, then I offered to watch him when, to make sure none landed on his sleeping bag either. He snickered and said well sure, but he never shot above his navel, but I should watch for sleeping bag splatter. He had a terrific cum, too.

The next night, we were both pretty much okay with doing it together again, but he asked me if I wanted to compare our dicks and then have a contest to see who shoots the farthest. I agreed to both. This was my first discovery at how different boy’s cocks and erect penises can look. His shaft was quite a bit thinner than mine and his erection pointed almost straight out when he was kneeling in the tent. My shaft was a lot fatter than his, and when stiff pointed almost straight up. But his glans looked like a huge knob on the end of his thin shaft, where my glans was not tat all much wider than my shaft. Also, his testicles seemed to hang down a lot lower than mine, it seemed like his scrotum was a lot bigger than mine. Mysteriously, we both decided it was okay to feel each other’s penis, because  they looked so different, we should know if they felt different too.
We both wanked ourselves that second night, too, but we spent a lot of time intentionally watching each other jerking off. I let him cum first that night, since I came first the night before.
Sunday morning, as we were taking our tent down, he quietly asked me if I agreed we were never going to ever tell anyone about “doin- it" together” those two times. I assured him I would never tell anyone.

Well, today, I suppose I just broke my Secret Scout's promise. (He and I never wanked together again, but I saw him naked in the shower house many times after that, and I’d always take a look at his junk and think that other than my own and my cousin’s, that was the only other boy’s dick that I had ever seen with an erection and squirting cum. 

The once Silent Scout

Catching a Good Vibration

Good story about tending to your needs with a friend without risking too much. My 2c......on The Tree House Massage.

When I was just starting to enjoy my dick, I had an alternate way of climaxing somewhat like the boy in the fort. But it was just me alone, no help from anybody else. Most of the time I did a typical pump job with my hand when I needed to shoot.

But when we went to my old aunt and uncle's house, I would look forward to this different way to make my dick fire-off. My uncle had a workbench in his garage, it was made out of 2x4 lumber. He had a big drill press in the middle and a grinder bolted on the end of this workbench. When he was not there, I would turn on both motors and stand with my boner resting against one of the legs of the work bench.

This always got me stiff if I wasn't already. I mashed and rubbed my boner on the leg of the work bench while it vibrated. It got me ready to cum. It made a funny little itching feeling in my dick that I sort of loved. It started easy and got better and better. In a minute the vibrations made my stuff get to a climax and Oh yeah, I'm loving it. Right away it came firing out very intensely.

Yes as a young dude I didn't care if it shot in my underpants. But I was willing to put up with that, just to enjoy the funky great feeling inside my dick, driven by the vibrations when I was fixing to cum.


Why I'm Suddenly Taller

 I am changing the subject a little? I actually had a few sessions with other boys, but what I want to tell about is my excellent private hand jobs. From the moment I discovered how to jack off I was hooked. It was the most rewarding thing in my life and it was something I could do completely by myself.

 At first I shared a room with my brother. He graduated and left for college when I was 14. Until then I had shot my loads wherever I could find a hiding place. After he left I was in heaven. I treated myself to fantastic cumshots every night while laying in bed.

 There are several things that I remember about my bedtime activity. One thing was that I felt like my body became longer (taller) while laying in bed and jacking off. I often got in bed completely naked. The covers touching my bare skin were so arousing. As I played with my erect peter I stretched my legs and body as far as they would go. When I finally ejaculated I would think, dude you just added two inches to your height! Silly, I know. But sometimes at school I would wonder if anybody thought I was taller.

 Another thing I did was get as hard and horny as possible, just almost ready to cum, and then stop jacking. I would hold my tissues around my dickhead and move my right hand down to my balls. They became my ejaculation trigger. I gently squeezed and wobbled them. The climax would get closer and closer while I just played only with my balls. I would feel almost in agony because the climax was so close but not yet happening. Then one more squeeze or jiggle of my balls and a massive orgasm would crest throughout my body with my hand still wrapped around my balls. I would feel so excellent, laying in my bed nude while one ejaculation after another and another would fire. Spew, spew, spew, the stuff squirted out of my rigid erection. Each separate jet would give me another thrill.

 I wadded up the tissues and dropped them into my wastebasket, then went sound asleep feeling so outstanding. The next morning (or in the night if I had to get up and pee) I fished the tissues out of the trash basket and flushed them down the toilet.

 Yes, having a jacking buddy or two was nice, and I had good times with some "special" friends. But what I remember most about my adolescent sexuality is my solitary climaxes just before going to sleep.


My Book Room Boners

In tenth grade I spent my free period running the book room while the book lady took her break. I will not pretend that I was naive or uninformed. I'd been jerkin' since I was 13 and by the time I was a sophomore it was a daily part of my life.

The book room had a cabinet about 10' wide that faced the door of the room. At the top of the cabinet was a counter where teachers (or students sent by teachers) came to request books or other material for their classes. On the back side of the cabinet there were a lot of small doors plus a sort of desk right in the middle.

One day I had a hard-on. I began looking for ways to make my boner feel good, not planning to shoot a load, just wanting to play with my stiff dick. There was a certain place where a piece of wooden molding got my attention. I scraped my boner against that molding. I kept doing it and in a minute I was on the down-stretch to a load of cum. This made me mad because I quit shooting cum inside my clothes long before. I decided to stop. It was very difficult to quit rubbing my dick but I did. I told myself, Thank God I didn't shoot. But after a few minutes I was still real hard and had the feeling that my dick was doing strange squeezing things inside itself. And now the cum came, oozing out after I had quit arousing my peter. Inside my boxers it came, and ran in little rivers down my leg hair inside my school pants.

I didn't do that again for a while because I hated the mess it made in my pants. But every time I looked at that piece of molding I would get hard and think, What if I kept doing it a little longer and had a real climax? Finally I figured what to do. Before that hour, I went to the restroom and tucked a lot of paper towels inside my boxers. Then I massaged my stiffie against the molding. And in a few minutes I got close to cumming. I would stop for a second and squeeze my dick or get it into just the right position. Then I would rub it back and forth on the molding while the feelings got real good. Usually I would slow down and let the feelings get real intense. And then I came! Inside the paper towels! I got cum in my dick hair and other areas of my crotch, but the towels kept it from being a total shitty mess. I would go back to the bathroom and go into a stall to remove the towels and wipe myself off with toilet paper.

Sometimes a teacher or student would come to the counter while I was hard. I helped them with their request, sometimes secretly rubbing my dick against the cabinet or the book shelves. They never knew that I was aroused, and I had some secret fun making my dick feel good.

I was maybe a little too old to be playing with myself like that, but I had a hell of a time rubbing one out nearly every day, rotating my hips so my dick went from side to side against the molding and thinking, It's gonna cum! It's gonna cum!


Thursday, May 9, 2019

My End of Carefree Days

I didn't write this dweeb story, but I was equally clueless.

   Starting in 8th grade I regularly masturbated a certain high school boy thinking I was making a friend and protector. Regretfully he spread it to other big guys. Apparently he didn't admit the full extend of our arrangement, but by saying that he had "heard" I was a homo, never mentioning that he had any personal contact with me.

 Other boys wanted a sample. Some of them forced me to blow them, which I hated. They threatened me if I tried to refuse. It was so bad that when I was walking home from the bus one day, a car with a booming woofer stopped at a red light where I was waiting to cross the street. Somebody rolled down a window and yelled, "Hey (last-name)! The wind blows free. How much do you charge?"

 The car was full of high school guys that I didn't even know. They were laughing their asses off at me. The car roared away leaving me feeling very exposed. I remember that day, hour, and minute in every detail. It was the end of a carefree phase of my young life.


Tuesday, May 7, 2019

Helping the Nurse Medic

This happened at a camp I went to when I was 13 or possibly 14. It was a dependents' camp for Air Force brats. Typical of the military, every kid had to take a job at camp. My counselor (an airman, of course) showed us a list of jobs. I was detailed as the medic's assistant in the first-aid cabin. That was kinda cool for me at my young age. The male nurse that was the actual medic was already a Lieutenant despite being hardly out of high school. He automatically became an officer because of enlisting in the nurse corps.

My job when we had a patient was to hand stuff to the medic and do whatever he asked, just follow orders in general. Most of the mishaps that we saw were very minor, like splinters or scraped knees or insect stings.

But this one time, an airman and a couple of boys came rushing to us sort of half-carrying a guy who had fallen while rock climbing. He had several lacerations, particularly a long gash on his thigh. Blood was running down his leg. He was being real brave and pretending like it was nothing.

The medic began trying to get information from the patient. At the same time the others kept jabbering to the medic and each other. Everybody was talking at once. So the nurse-medic guy says in a loud voice of authority, "Dis-MISSED!" which is military language for "Get out of here." In a minute the others are gone and it's just the three of us: the medic, me, and the bleeding patient.

First thing that goes down, the medic is getting personal data so we can notify the boy's family. While he's doing that I want to look busy so I get a damp washcloth and start rinsing blood off his leg. Immediately I notice that the biggest cut goes up into his shorts. There's nothing I can do about it - certainly not stick my hand into his pants

Right away the medic is looking things over and tells the guy that he's going to have to take his shorts and jock off to be examined. He motions me over to the sink and then says softly, "Always turn away from the patient while he strips." Both of us have our backs turned while the guy pulls off his shorts and jock. That was one of the first lessons I learned, not to look where I shouldn't look.So the guy is now laying buck-ass naked on the examining table with his junk on display and his wounds oozing blood. We turn around from the sink and there's his pubes and dick and everything. I forced myself not to stare at his equipment. He was maybe 15 or 16, a little older than me. I'm thinking, I am just a young kid seeing a firm, round set of testicles and a soft dick with a definite head lying kind of sideways on his pelvis.

The medic tells me very professionally, as if I'd been used to seeing naked patients all my life, "Drape the man's genitals, please." The word "drape" threw me for a minute but it didn't take long to understand what I was supposed to do. I got a clean hand towel off the shelf. In order to drop it just right over his junk I have to look straight at the boy's goods and gently lower the towel to cover them. As you can imagine, this was not a task that I had expected when I signed up for the first-aid job. I congratulated myself on draping the nude patient. The medic-guy gave me my next instruction: "Three suture kits, please. Don't open them yet, but have them ready."
Just as I returned with the suture kits and the nurse had turned away to jot notes on a form, I caught the patient with his hand under the towel. He made a quick adjustment to his dick and rapidly pulled his hand out and smoothed the towel. This was strangely interesting to me.

Next the medic wants me to start warm water running in the sink. He starts cleaning the wounds with soap and water, asking me to hand him a clean disposable towel every so often. You could tell that cleaning the cuts made the wounds hurt. The guy flinched every time the young medic touched him. And you could also tell something else. With the medic's fingers all over the dude's groin, there was a lump developing under the towel, a lump that was not there when I "draped" him.

"Brace yourself," the nurse told the injured guy. "I'm gonna apply an ointment that will stanch your bleeding. It will sting like crazy, understand?" Well as soon as the lotion hit him the guy goes "Oh shit! Oh shit!" His butt lifted off the examining table with every application of the cream. But something else happened too. I swear the lump under his towel became larger, thicker, more clearly defined.

The nurse-medic decided against stitches, carefully treating and bandaging every laceration, particularly the large one on his thigh which was about a foot long. He was gently working close to the patient's crotch, hands flitting all around to dress the wounds. The towel over the guy's vitals took on a different dimension. The head of the guy's dick had now risen higher than its root.

We had been working for about half an hour. The medic told the patient "Let's make sure we got everything. I'm gonna check you real good." He examined the boy's legs, arms and torso. Probing and fingering, he touched and examined nearly every inch of skin, except for the part that was very obviously growing as it poked up under the towel. The patient was undoubtedly mortified by the growing erection under the drape. By now his pointer was thrusting toward vertical. It seemed to me that as the nurse palpated the guy's thighs, a slight wet spot formed at the peak of the towel. There was no way to disguise what was going on - the patient was sprouting a major boner.

We began gathering up our supplies and trash. "Here's your clothes," the medic told the patient. "I want to see you again tomorrow afternoon, hear?"

The guy grabbed his clothes and plopped them down immediately onto the point where the drape stuck up. If there was ever any question whether the patient knew he had an erection, it was dispelled when he hid his tent under the handful of clothes.

"We're gonna wash our hands while you get your clothes on," the medic told the patient. So, with me picking up the nurse's hidden reminder that we weren't going to look at the patient when he was naked, we both turned away from the boned-up rock-climber and took our time at the sink, never viewing anything embarrassing.

The patient didn't wait for us to turn around. We were still washing up when we heard him slide off the examining table. "Thank you," he called as he ran out the door.

The "drape" was laying on the floor. I picked it up just for something to do. The young medic and I looked at the towel and looked at each other. Something should be said to break the ice, but I couldn't think of anything appropriate that I, the 13-year-old son of an NCO, might say to a 19-year-old medical officer when we'd just witnessed a guy produce a boner.

My professional partner came up with a succinct statement, though.

Looking thoughtfully out the door that the patient had just exited, the nurse-dude said "There goes one horny stud!"

At first I was scared to laugh. But the nurse couldn't contain himself and soon we were hoo-hawing with each other.

The medic asked other patients to strip from time to time and usually gave me the small job of draping their assets.

 Thunder Cloud

Monday, May 6, 2019

How I was Forced to Swallow

This is my story from 8th grade, and when I was13 years old.

  I had a friend that I walked home with every day. On these walks we had very frank conversations, I shared with him about my first time shooting semen and he told me about when he first did it. We were 13 so all of this really was fresh and new to us. Although we talked about a lot of things we didn't immediately begin experimenting with each other. One day we took a detour to a place that was semi private and exposed ourselves to each other and for a long time that was it until he started asking if we could trade oral with each other. I didn't much like the idea but he was insistent.

 So one day I agreed, and instead of walking to my house I passed it up and went to his house. He took a shower and came out of the bathroom in his pajama pants. He asked me if I was ready and we went upstairs to his room. I got on my knees and he lowered his pajamas and stuck his penis in my face and moved it towards my lips. He reminded me not to use my teeth and just like that I had another boy's penis in my mouth. We did this for a long time, I sucked so long that I was thirsty. He gave me a glass of water and I continued thinking "when will this be over?" I really had mixed emotions about what I was doing so I would not allow myself to enjoy what I was doing, but my friend certainly liked it. At some point he took control holding the back of my head and pushing me while simultaneously thrusting his hips sending his penis towards the back of my throat. He soon grunted and jammed his cock far into my throat causing me to gag but he held my head with a strong hand. I thought I was going to die, I was gagging, he's not letting go and he is shooting semen down my throat. He finishes, and the semen that I didn't swallow I tried to spit out but it looked like I had unwittingly swallowed most of it.

 I went to his bathroom and gargled his mouthwash trying to get the taste of his cock and semen out of my mouth . Which, when you are no longer horny is not a good taste. He then asked me a question was I gay or Bi? and I said that I was straight. He laughed and told me that because I had swallowed his semen that I could never be straight. I had to be either gay or bi and even if I lived to be 150 years old and slept with women every day of my life I'd still couldn't be straight because I had swallowed his cum.

 He said that if I didn't swallow it I could be straight but because I did I couldn't. It's absurd, he was making up his own rules, sexuality doesn't work that way but I believed it. I was upset at him for not giving me a choice and taking away my choice to be straight. My 13 year old mind comprehended it this way and it destroyed our friendship. It wouldn't have but he had to go and tell me that I couldn't be straight. Why didn't he tell me before I agreed to suck his penis that I'd essentially be signing up to be either gay or bi? It was just fooling around to me. Why did he gag me and basically force me to swallow his semen? Like I said I wasn't as mad about that as I was about being told that I could "never" be straight because at that age it was important to just be normal, and straight was normal.


Friday, May 3, 2019

I Was Confused -We Were Both Boys

  I had a weird thing at seventh grade PE. There was a boy that was older and bigger than me in the same gym period. We both needed to piss one day and went behind some bushes. He showed me his dick after we pissed, and it was hard. He let me feel of it but he did not want to see or feel of mine.

 After I felt him a little, he put his stiff dick back in his gym shorts and said, "Stand still." He turned me so I was facing away from him. Then he got right behind me and pulled my butt tight against his dick. His boner was lined up with my butt crack. Then he rubbed and bumped his dick a few times. He was pulling me real tight against his dick. While he was doing that he kind of laughed and said,

 "I wish you had a pussy."

 I was very confused because we were both boys and only girls had pussy's.

  He did it some more times, him humping my butt crack with his dick. I think sometimes he shot cum while doing it. One time he bumped me a while and made a funny noise. There was a lot of cloth between us, my jock, my shorts, my shirt, his jock, his shorts, his shirt. But I could definitely feel his vertical dick lined up with my vertical crack while he did his thing.


Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Busted with a Porno - Cringe

When I was 14 I used to babysit for my some of my mother's friends. One evening after the little boy finally fell asleep in bed. I thought it would be a good idea to look through the VHS tapes. I found a porn movie and in my horny 14 year old mind thought it a good idea to start watching it.

I was just reaching the point of no return when I heard the key in the door and the unmistakable sound of the door opening. I stuffed my 14 year old hardness into my trousers as quick as I possibly could, but was not quick enough and with the porn film still playing the parents entered the room with me struggling to zip up my fly. Obviously they knew what I'd been doing. I was silent, as were they.

The dad drove me home but it was silence the whole journey. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me, I was utterly mortified and terrified that they would say something. I never baby sat for them again. My mother never said anything but I suspected that she'd been told. I still cringe even now, 27 years later at the thought of being caught and it was probably the worst memory of my youth.


Don't Judge a Dweeb by His Spectacles

The writer of the Betrayed Story said he got a reputation. By that, he means people knew he was queer.

 I can use that word because it describes me at that age. I went through puberty at 11 when I was still just a child. I could shoot real good loads but did not know anything about maturity. All my pictures of me were kind of ugly. I had a big mouth with puffy lips. I breathed through my mouth due to allergies. Wore heavy glasses. Blond hair combed like the 1950's. You might assume I was not in the popular crowd with loads of girls checking me out. But few knew the more hidden parts of me, until.......

Okay, so no sense of yielding the floor to other people. I actually had a full-grown penis by age 13. I wanted everybody to admire it, so I did secret stuff with guys who didn't know how to keep a secret. I jacked off all over the place. Whenever I met a new boy my only interest was whether he would like to share masturbation with me. So I quickly began making hints to him. I did not realize that people keep those memories for the rest of their life. When I was older and wiser, it was too late to change things.  My own scandalous reputation was probably prominent as the Ads found on the brown covers of our school books.

I started over in college. New place, new faces. I forced myself to keep my zipper shut until I knew for sure that the other guy was just as worried about his reputation. When I got my first job it was in a city where nobody knew me, especially nobody that knew me as a perpetually jacking queer dweeb who masturbated at 60 miles an hour with his mouth hanging open.

  In closing, my sympathy goes to that poor boy who told the Mechanical Drawing story. I wish he had a place to start over where nobody had a clue about him. Even transferring to another school would have been a good move for him.


Saturday, April 27, 2019

Pete Without Pants

 My best friend growing up was always a lot shorter than me, and he hit puberty a lot later, so during our junior high years there was a huge difference in our heights. One day as we were dressing for gym class, he snagged his T-shirt on his locker and ripped it, so he asked if I had one he could borrow. When he put my shirt on I laughed out loud, because it hung down almost to his ankles. I joked that the shirt covered him so completely he didn't need to wear anything else. With that, he reached under the shirt, pulled off his gym shorts and underwear, put them in his locker and marched out of the locker room defiant in his effective nudity..

 We were doing soccer that day, so we didn't expect any tackling or other contact, but still, there could have been a stumble or collision that might've left my friend "exposed". But nothing like that happened, and the class went off without incident. But when we got back to the locker room and were undressing for showers, a kid whose locker was in the same bay as ours saw my friend remove the shirt, and started telling everybody who would listen that Pete had been running around outside with his pants off all through Gym-class. But my friend and I both adamantly denied it, and in the end nobody believed the truth-teller.


Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Betrayed by the Class

Continuing Leading the Class Story, Part II now.....

 There was something about our actions that drew the attention of a boy near Tony, and that guy’s hand shot
into the air. A sinking feeling told me I had a problem on my hands. The second boy sat with a smirk
on his face and a boner in his lap. “Give me a little help like you gave Tony,” he snickered.

  “Put it away!” I told him. “Vargas could walk in at any minute!”

 He ignored my advice. “I know what you did,” he said. “Kinda queer aren’t you? Give me a little
sample or I’ll tell Vargas you play with people’s dicks.”

 What could I do? I gave the boy’s boner the slightest of touches and started to hurry away. However,
he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back so that my hand hovered above his stiff dick. “I didn’t think
you’d do it!” he told me. Then, shoving my hand down onto his dick, he went on: “Want to jack me a
little?” he whispered. “You’d like that, I bet.”

  “Jack” meant nothing to me. I was so innocent that he might as well have been speaking Swahili.

 I pulled away from him but it was not over. He was now talking to a third kid who looked like he’d
heard something juicy and wanted to find out if it was true. That guy returned to his stool and
waved his entire arm around, telling me out loud, “Wilson. Over here. Got something that needs your
help in a bad way!”

 The entire class now knew that peculiar things were going on. A bigger, tough-looking boy, probably
a ninth grader, went to the back row and chattered back and forth with Tony and the others. All of
them turned and stared at me. Soon various people were off their stools, whispering back and forth.
Other hands were in the air. I suspected that other dicks were sticking out of other flies also, but
what could I do about it? I called for order but voices were rising, guys were trying to squeeze
each other’s junk or protect their own, and the class was completely out of control.

 The big rough boy, who was the sort of menacing guy that scared younger kids, headed my direction
with his hand cupped around his crotch and God-knows-what in his mind. And at that moment Mr. Vargas
opened the door.

 The class went from bedlam to absolute silence in ten seconds. Vargas looked keenly at the guys
hustling back to their desks, some zipping their pants as they went. Then he turned to me.

  “Anything to report, Wilson?”

What should I say?

  “No, Sir,” I lied in a whisper. “Nothing.”

   Not a thing except half the class calling for me to come “help” them with their, hard issues.

 The faggy reputation that would follow me into high school began that afternoon in Mechanical Drawing class.

 Oh, yeah. One thing more: Tony and I suddenly hated each other. No more rendezvous behind the bushes. I was mad as hell at him but he thought it was all a big joke.


Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Leading the Class as a 7th Grader (Part I)

 PART ONE - Like several other guys who have written other stories for this blog, I think my story holds elements you guys will appreciate..

 I attended junior high in an old building that was constructed in the Dark Ages as the town’s high school. One class in particular highlighted the school’s age: Mechanical Drawing, also known as Drafting.

 Today Drafting, if it’s taught at all, is a computer course, but when I was taking the subject as a seventh-grader, the school board refused to buy computers for an ancient structure that would soon be torn down. So the course was taught the old-fashioned way: sharp pencils, art-gum erasers, T- squares and French curves.

 The classroom was a relic of the industrial age. It was furnished with high desks like something out of a Dickens tale. The desks were surmounted by tilted drafting boards. We boys (no girls in Mechanical Drawing!) sat on tall stools about the height of those in a bar. Like seventh-graders everywhere, some guys had recently discovered a stunning skill that involved their hard dicks, while others were still clueless.

 It was in this medieval drafting classroom full of boys that I unfortunately acquired a reputation that dogged me for years to come. The incident happened like this:

 Mr. Vargas was one of only three male teachers in the entire school. Frequently he was called out of a class to assist the principal with discipline problems. When that happened he appointed one of the students to keep an eye on the rest of us and answer any questions about the drafting assignment we were working on.

  I was twelve and just plain dumb about my body. Thanks to the PE showers I had learned some interesting things that sparked my curiosity, particularly things about boys’ weenies. I was so interested in weenies, in fact, that I hung out out with a friend named Tony after lunch nearly every day. The two of us hid behind hedges that encircled the building. We were sort of “besties” in the sense that he was my only sexual friend.

 In the secrecy of our hidden location we pee’d together. We examined each other’s little peters, commented on our stiffies, and traded touches. We also discussed the pricks of other boys in the PE class. One thing that we did not do was jack off, since neither of us knew anything about that.

We loved our forbidden friendship and enjoyed the way our little peters got stiff and stuck out when we played with them.

On a particular day Mr. Vargas was summoned away during the period that Tony and I took Mechanical Drawing. As the teacher headed out the door his eyes landed on me. “Wilson,” he said, “keep things under control.” As a result I was to acquire a reputation that would follow me the rest of junior high and on into high school.

 After Mr. Vargas left the room I was called to a couple of desks to answer questions about legitimate work. Then Tony, my stiff-prick friend from behind the bushes, raised his hand and spoke up: “I need some help.” In my own total innocence I went to his back-row desk, looked at his manilla project sheet and asked what he needed help with.

“This,” he stated, as he slid the manilla folder forwardthen pointing to his lap.

The dumb fool had opened his zipper right in class. He sat on his tall stool with his knees under the drafting board and his erection poking out of his fly. Due to the way the desks were constructed and arranged, only the two of us could see the boner. I reached down, gave his dickhead a few little friendly squeezes, and told him “Put that thing away before Vargas gets back!” My friend laughed and wiggled his dick at me. As I left his desk I thought, Thank goodness, nobody knows what we were doing.

To be continued.....


Friday, April 19, 2019

A Tearoom Tickle

I have not read much about this subject on your blog, if any at all. However, when I was a naive college freshman I received a prostate massage while cruising a well known campus tearoom. I just want to tell about it.

The tearoom, though very active in the daytime, was quiet at night. I went there with the intention of getting my daily wank -- sharing masturbation with a like-minded fellow student.

There were a large number of stalls in the room. Only one was occupied. I seated myself next door and began observing to see what might happen. After a few minutes I knew that the other person was apparently seeking the same thing I was. However, after we had each knelt down and shared a moment of caressing and discovery, my partner did something unexpected. He put a latex examination glove on his right hand and showed the hand to me. Then he extended one finger and gently stroked my anus before gradually inserting the finger. "Jack it," he instructed me in a whisper. While I masturbated, the other guy matched my rhythm, jiggling a short length of his gloved finger inside my rectum, and thereby awakening my prostate.

As I write these words, the action sounds gross. Yet the truth is that I became highly aroused by my own wanking and by the stranger's expert application of his finger.

My penis was super-erect and I reached a magnificent climax that produced an unusual amount of seminal fluid.

The other lad peeled off his glove and dropped it on the floor. Through the stall's small observation hole I discovered that he was now pumping himself at a fairly fast rate in pursuit of his own climax. Still watching, I saw him soon spread his legs and fire a stream that struck the stall's door.

Although I had reached a a nice ejaculation, I became erect again when he unloaded. Later that evening I coaxed another shot out of my hard-on. That evening's fun was the only prostate-enabled thrill that I ever experienced.


Wednesday, April 17, 2019

Not Touching

 In the ninth and tenth grade my main jacking friend was a small boy my age whose mother was a native of the Phillipine islands. He inherited her short stature and dark skin.

 His dick was no bigger than average, but he had that premature ejaculation problem that has been mentioned. He wanted me to pump myself for several minutes before he would touch his own peter. And then real sudden he shot a big squirting load, sometimes cussing and saying it happened too fast. He sometimes became so horny that he would cum without any pumping, just laying on the bed with him and me staring at his hard dick pulsing up and down. I discovered a funny thing, if I tickled or stroked his crotch (but not touching his dick) his dick would raise higher and higher off his stomach and suddenly shoot its load.


Sunday, April 14, 2019

The Mystery of Large Quick Rods

2 Comments for this post. - 

May I comment on this post much later (six years).

 In my youth I knew two different boys who had abnormally large dicks. Both of them climaxed rapidly. That was frustrating for them. Like the genius in the original post, they tried to keep things from happening too fast. One of them was cursed with such a case of premature ejaculation that he sometimes expelled his cum while I did no more than tickle his big dick.


Another Reader says -

In High School, I had a buddie that had a bigger dick than mine and I was three years older. We usually just did wanks together after school, but sometimes at sleep-overs I'd blow him, whenever I did he tensed up very soon after I went fully down on him, then shot his load within seconds it seemed. He also liked to shoot often. I remember I made him cum everyday for two weeks once in summer-time, and he usually wanted more within a few minutes of us shooting our loads. I never knew any other guy with a libido like him.


Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Cooling off my Stiffie

I found an old email from one of our contributing authors Thunder Cloud. The following story was not published. Immediately, I  knew it should be posted.

Most of my sixth grade year and on into all of the seventh, we were stationed at Laughlin AFB on the Mexican border. The only reason for mentioning Laughlin is because that particular base had a very nice housing area with the homes grouped into several compact neighborhoods with large, well-equipped playgrounds in the middle of each neighborhood.

Not long before moving to Laughlin I had become aware of my boners, but not much else (see "Man, You've Got It Bad" which our friend Eric has posted on this site).

Every time I caught an erection it bugged me. I had to constantly rearrange my junk and my tightie-whities in hopes of making my boner feel better. I also worried about keeping the bulge from becoming visible. I just did not like to get hard. Whenever I felt my cock growing I would silently curse: "That @#% thing is getting big again." The only time that I felt good about my pisser becoming large was when a situation happened to work out where another guy and I could do a little friendly comparing.

The playground was just across our back fence. It was basically a large circular field surrounded by a ring of homes. Parents could look out their back windows and see the entire area.

I was a little too old for most of the playground equipment, but I kept hanging out in the playground with some other kids my age. One of my favorite things was a set of swings. They were "big kid" swings, thick rubber seats suspended by chains from a tall frame. Built to military specs and tough enough to last until Doomsday. Some of us older kids would swing as high as we dared. Then we'd lift our butts off of the seats and hang onto the chains, unsupported except by our grip on the chains, almost flying. Some of the more daring guys would let go completely and figure a vector as they went into free-fall and try to hit the ground standing on their feet.

One evening when things were starting to get dark and most of the kids had gone home, I had one of the wildest inspirations of my life. My confounded penis was stiff and rigid and chubby. I had been moving it from place to place behind my zipper for hours. It was as uncomfortable as hell because of being confined in my pants.

I was the only one swinging. Nobody else nearby. Why not do something absolutely crazy? Get the damn thing out and let it stick up naked while soaring back and forth in the swing?

I unzipped my pants and pried my erection out. It was hot and sweaty. I got a running start in my favorite swing and flew as high as I dared Back and forth, back and forth, breakneck airspeed.

The summer air was dry and comfortable. It blew gently around my bare stiffie as I swung as high and as fast as I could. My dick was still stiff but it felt so much better thanks to the moving air. I felt almost like soft fingers were touching my boner, but it was only the air currents caressing my hard-on. In a word, it was heavenly.

Swinging with my bare erection sticking up from my lap became my favorite playground activity. I could hardly wait for the sun to set each evening so that it would get dark enough to pull my boner out. I let my naked dick enjoy the breeze almost every night, staying on the swings until I heard my dad standing at the back door yelling for me to come home.

One of my friends had played a slightly dirty game with me from time to time. As one of us slid down the largest slide on our back, the other guy would reach out and try to honk his balls as he zipped by. After discovering boner-swinging, I inducted him into that game. He would swing with his peter exposed, but as far as I could tell he never got hard.

He did add a neat twist to the game, though. Whenever I landed after a wild, erect ride, he would hustle over and  say "Ground support. Is everything still there?" while squeezing and fingering my stiff cock. I liked that very much and started thinking that boners weren't so bad after all.

Sunday, April 7, 2019

Fill the Cup Pals

Talking about cum-shots, did you and a bud ever shoot your loads into a container together?

 It so turned me on when two of us did that. We stuck both of our dickheads in a paper cup and came at the same time with our dicks touching. It was freakin' good, the way it felt with our dicks right there together and both loads mixing up.

 It was a long time ago and still I remember him and me shooting in that cup.


Saturday, April 6, 2019

The Naked Parade at Camp

I was browsing around this blog and read the post about the counselor telling everybody to strip and look at each other. I had a lodge camp counselor that did somewhat of a similar thing. He said we were too busy trying to sneak a peek at each other's privates while changing, and he was going to fix that right now. He called a boy to the front of the room and asked, "What is your name?" Let's say the boy answered "Fred."

"Well, Fred, do you have a penis?"

Fred was shocked and so were the first few boys who were called up front and asked the question. They were very embarrassed about it. Fred sort of stammered "Yes" in a whispery voice. But soon every boy got into it. People started giggling and laughing. The last few boys said "Damn right" or "Certainly."

The counselor then said, "We will continue this discussion tonight at bedtime. Every one of you answered "Yes," so you realize that it is normal for a boy to have a penis."

That night he called us together again and said, "Since it is normal for a boy to have a penis, we're all going to remove the mystery about that part of your body. A penis is a handy tool that girls don't have. A penis has two purposes. It is used for urination. That's a big word that means pissing. But when you become a man, your penis is used for another purpose: to transfer sperm from your body to your wife's body and create babies. Does everybody understand that?"

We were around twelve to fourteen. Everybody nodded or said "Yeah" or "Yes sir."

"So there is no mystery about all of you having a penis, right?"

He looked around. Everybody was waiting for the rest of this discussion.

"All right, then. Who is big enough and confident enough to take off your clothes and walk naked from one side of the room to the other?"

Some of us looked at each other and some just stared at the floor. Finally a kind of young-looking little dude said, "Hell, I'll do it." And he did do it. He stripped off his underpants and walked across the front of the room with his little peter on full display.

The counselor thanked him for his guts and asked, "Who's next?"

Within a few minutes every one of us had paraded naked past all the other guys. The room was full of relaxed laughter.

"Thank you, boys," the counselor told us. "I'm proud of you. When you change or shower you won't have to take secret peeks at each other because everybody has proved that they are real boys."

I was one of those who waited until the end. I learned something very interesting that summer. The counselor had not mentioned a third use for our penises, a use that I personally practiced in secret.

After lights-out I lay in bed playing with my peter, which had become completely stiff. I was trying to decide whether to jack off or not. While glancing around the cabin I discovered that several of the boys were causing their sleeping bags to bump up and down. That gave me my answer, but I wasn't going to do it in bed. I went to the latrine and began pumping myself. Soon another boy joined me, and then a third. We all pretended we didn't know what was happening, but soon the three of us shot our loads into our urinals. We became strong buddies for the rest of the week, thanks in part to our counselor's brief effort at sex education.


Thursday, April 4, 2019

Inspections by the Confirmed Jacker

Beginning with my first wank, I was fascinated with the ejaculate that shot out of my weenie. I felt a combination of emotions. That first cumshot was frightening. But as I cleaned up the substance that had shot all over the bathroom, I was on a high, thinking "So this is what makes babies. It's kind of gooey."

I quickly became a confirmed jacker, starting with a shot every few days and proceeding to pumping one out every night at toilet time before showering. I liked to examine my cum. Often I shot it onto a washcloth. I loved to hold the cloth in readiness while I sat on the pot with a handful of stiff dick. I carefully watched the moment of delivery when pulses of cum shot out of my stiffie. Two substances seemed to be produced during ejaculation. Part of the emissions were thin and watery. That material quickly soaked into the cloth. But there was a thicker product that was usually lumpy-looking and did not soak in. I believed that the lumpy stuff traveling through my erection was responsible for the fine feelings that accompanied masturbation. The way I figured it, my cum tickled the inside of my dick as the stuff traveled through the length of my stiffie.

Sometimes I masturbated in the unpaved lane hidden behind our garage. With no need to catch my cum, I watched the semen shoot surprising distances, but it still had a dual composition. The runny part of it was immediately absorbed by the dirt while the thicker material lay in strange trails on the ground.

I occasionally jacked off in public restrooms at places such as the library and shot my loads on the metal partitions. Then I remained in the stall while observing my cum ooze its way down the wall. Again, it separated into two substances. The thin, watery portion descended fairly quickly. Soon it dripped onto the floor. Meanwhile the thicker component took its time to slowly slide downwards. At the bottom of the partition it hung there in sort of an iridescent blob until it finally grew large enough and heavy enough to drop into the same little puddles that the thin stuff had made. When I climaxed I would shoot my wad in several places on the wall and observe multiple tracks of cum at the same time.

I loved not only jacking off, but also enjoyed analyzing my cum. There were a few times when I sat in a stall watching my sperm make its way down the partition, and the sheer delight of thinking about jacking off somehow made got me horny again. I would become nicely erect again and add another load to the first one.