Jerking in Bunk Beds?

While recently talking about camp, I have a question for everybody:

When you were a camper, did you ever succeed in jacking off in a bunk bed (either upper or lower) without the other occupant of the bed noticing what you were doing? My reason for asking is buried in a long-ago camping where I had the top bunk. At home I jacked off every night. So after lights-out the first night at camp I was trying to get a load out in total secrecy. I was lying completely still and pumping myself real easy, holding a sock ready to catch the spunk. I was sure nobody knew what I was doing. I held the covers only slightly up and took very slow, gentle strokes.



When I climaxed I was careful not to thrash around, just to shoot into my sock. The next day during crafts the boy from my lower bunk said to me real pointedly,

"Did we have an earthquake last night?"

I didn't answer, not having a clue what he was talking about.

"Well it must have been you playing with your peter up there."

 I went to many more camps but never jerked myself again in a bunk bed. Yet I still think it could be done without the other guy knowing.

Anonymous

Quitting for Lent

I did a stupid thing when I was 15. I tried to give up masturbation for lent. At church everybody in the youth group was talking about what to give up. The emphasis was on giving up something important. Okay, jacking off was just about the most important thing in my life at that time.

 I had a room of my own and a bedtime routine. I would read comic books in bed while touching and feeling my hard dick. Just lightly touch or jiggle myself until I was close to a climax due to sheer stiffness. I used washcloths to catch my sperm. As I would get closer to cumming I would force myself not to do the final strokes because I wanted the feelings (sexual sensations) to remain at their peak. Eventually I would turn out the light, put both hands under the covers, and give myself the last little strokes. I held the washcloth in place and lightly jacked while looking forward to my ejaculation, the best thing in my whole life. My nightly climaxes were the supreme moments of my existence. I would stop just at the instant before ejaculation, groove on the way I felt, and then go for broke. I shot huge slugs of cum every night, loving the way it felt when my loads shot out.

Therefore, on the spur of the moment in youth league, I told myself that jacking off was what I would give up. Fortunately we were not asked to reveal what our decision was.

Almost immediately I realized I'd made a serious mistake. I was in agony before the first night was over. I refused to touch my stiff dick. It got harder and harder, but I was determined. I woke up several times during that night, sometimes fully erect and sometimes less hard but still thick, enlarged and sensitive. Either way, I was always horny, in need of releasing the mounting pressure.

Then came Monday at school. And then another night. And then more days and more nights. I was going crazy. There was a constantly hard ridge in my pants. My mind cursed my foolish decision. I would see boys that I'd jacked with. I'd tell myself, don't think about their dicks. But it never worked. I was totally focused on the thing I couldn't do. I was steadily going crazy.

Somehow I made it to Saturday without spilling my seed, feeling like I was losing my mind. Without the structure of school I was in an even worse stressed condition than on weekdays. Maybe a nap would help. I lay down on my bed fully dressed and must have gone to sleep. Suddenly I woke up thinking I had pissed on myself. Close, but it wasn't piss. I had ejaculated while sleeping, a crappy mess inside my boxers plus a wet patch soaking through my jeans. My weakness angered me beyond belief. And I was also griped because the spontaneous emission had wasted a cumshot without letting me enjoy a climax.

That night, only about six hours since the involuntary ejaculation, I lay in bed with another humongous erection. I simply gave up. I rationalized to myself like this: My body made that cumshot, not me. The ejaculation proved that my Lenten resolution was impossible to keep.

The bedtime routine resumed that instant. I hurried to the bathroom for a washcloth. My straining erection welcomed my hand. Once again I prolonged my arousal until finally my repressed reproductive system produced the most amazing ejaculation and climax that I ever had.

Although I never gave up masturbation again, I did discover that skipping a day or two increased my pleasure enough to be worth an occasional vacation from jacking.

Ned

The Pool/Spa Connection

One year for vacation we went to Disneyland, I was about 14. We stayed in a motel run by a family that were from India, as many motels it seems to me are. They had a boy about my age and we hung out some after dark when we are back from Disneyland, mainly in the pool or hot tub.


 He was very dark skinned, lots of black hair and skinny. Sitting in the hot tub one time all of a sudden he leans toward me and says to look. There is lights in the hot tub so the water is sort of glowing. I look down in the water and he has got one leg of his bathing suit rolled back and his dick sticking out! Which it is even darker than his skin, real black and sticking right up. He moves it around some and I know it is hard! After I look a little he puts it away but is all the time mashing and rubbing in the water. I got a boner! I guess I better show him like he did. So I tell him he can look too if he wants to. He told me he would feel it and reaches over to play with it which puts me real horney.  I agreed, but never thought he'd go and do it.

Right away I know I have to cum! GULP!! I told him he better stop. He says we don't have to stop because nobody can see. He says he jacks off in the tub all the time and his cum goes in a filter. In a hurry he gets his dick out again. And axs do I want to feel it. Right away he leans to me with a hand and starts jacking me off right in the hot tub. I told him I was cumming. We look at my dick and pretty soon I am cumming and feeling the cum happening. A funny looking squirt of white stuff goes in the water like a big knot of string. As soon as I made my cum he has to jacking himself. Telling me a lot of times to watch, he wants me to watch him cum. So he makes his cum and it looks funny in the water like mine did. We stayed there maybe three or four days and me and the boy from India got in the hot tub some more times and I got real stiff boners while we jecked in the hot tub a couple more times and the stuff came under water. He said many boys like to do with him and he knew I would do it.

Anonymous

Proving I was not a a Little Kid

I have a vivid memory of the first time I deliberately let somebody see me with a boner followed by
jacking after he noticed. It was at a summer camp. The counselor was a very nice young guy, probs
late HS or maybe into college. A bunch of guys got into a discussion one night about “when” did
puberty begin. The counselor said some of us were not there yet and others were already into
puberty. He said it began before we were aware of it, when the body began to change. He made a point
that the single unmistakable proof that a boy had crossed the line into puberty, was whether he
produced ejaculate when he played with his penis.


Some of the guys kind of looked at each other. Some giggled. Others sat very quiet and just stared
at the floor.

I had started jacking earlier that year, seventh grade, discovered it by accident while washing my
boner in the shower one night. My stiffie was still small; it would fit completely inside a
prescription pill bottle. By the time of this camp I had been shooting my juice for months and
keeping it a complete secret. The discussion became very subjective for me. For reasons that I can’t
explain, I didn’t want any of the boys to know what I did to my stiff little peter. But beginning
that night, I did want that counselor to know. I wanted to show him that I was over the line and not
just a little kid.

The opportunity came when I was sitting on the crapper. The toilets were separated by plywood
partitions, but there were no doors. You could not see into the next stall, but if you walked past a
stall you could see the guy sitting in it. While I dumped my load the counselor walked in and went
to a urinal. Without understanding what was going on, I sprouted a stiffie. The counselor pissed. My
dick grew.

When the counselor turned around from the urinal I was leaning halfway forward, pretending to hide
my dick and my hand but constantly swinging my small boner back and forth. Not jacking it, just
wiggling it. The counselor paused for a second, obviously surprised at what he was seeing. Then he
said, “Better watch out, man, that thing might go off.”

Well, it did go off. The counselor was still standing there kind of half-way watching and taking his
time to walk past my stall! I switched to my jacking grip, which was thumb and two fingers. Unable
to control myself, I took a bunch of fast, jerky, uncoordinated strokes.

Zingo! A load shot out of the stall and across the cement floor. Then a couple more squirts, not
quite so powerful.

I was shaking with fright, not believing what I’d done, figuring the counselor would report me to
the head man and I would be sent home.

“Primo!” he said. “Everything’s in working order. Now, better wipe that stuff up before anybody sees
it. They’ll all know what it is and I’ll get caught in the crossfire while they all have a go.”

He walked out and never said another word to me about what happened.

Anonymous

Becoming Aware

I have a very blurry and indistinct memory of something that seemed really major at the time. I was new at jacking off, thirteen but still immature and totally uninformed. In other words, a littl
e boy who had accidentally stumbled onto ejaculation before knowing anything about such things.


I was sitting in a toilet stall at a burger chain. No idea why we were at the burger place since we did not go to restaurants very often.

As I said, I can't piece all of this together. What I do remember, though, is two older boys being in the restroom. Don't know whether they were already there before me, or came in afterwards. Anyway, I remember having an unusually erect boner and wondering why I had got hard.

Then I could hear little shuffling and whispering sounds from the other boys. I got off the pot and looked through the crack next to the door. I could see their image in the mirror. The two boys were standing right next to each other, without a doubt masturbating together. That's what had got me hard, the subconscious realization of what they were doing.

I had never had the slightest thought that guys might do it together. But they were fully occupied playing with their dicks at the same time that I had a considerable boner sticking out from my groin. I kept standing in the stall, taking quick little peeks again and again, while fighting the impulse to start whacking away on my own stiffie. As I watched the two boys I sort of automatically took hold of my dick without really giving myself permission.

 Not more than two or three strokes did it. Instantly the feeling of climax shot through my system and several big spurts of semen blasted out of my dick. It all happened within seconds.

 
Then what? I don't know. Did I walk out while the boys were still jacking? Did I hide in the stall and wait for them to leave? Did they perceive that "something" was happening in the stall? Total blank.

But starting with that experience my mind was locked into the wonder of mutual ejaculation. I was suddenly curious about every boy I knew: Does he get hard? Does he play with his peter? Does he make stuff shoot? Is there any way I might get a secret look at him?


It all started with those two older boys having a private encounter while my stiffie and I were hidden unseen in the toilet stall.

Anonymous

Pipe Pumping Lessons

Talking about a garage rest room, reminds me, my uncle had a shop out at the back of his land. It was made out of corrugated iron panels bolted to thick rusty pipes about 4" in diameter. The pace was dark and cavernous when I was a little guy.  I found some of the pipes had empty holes drilled into them. It was strange to me why they were there, but eventually I found an odd use for those holes.

I was not supposed to go out there by myself, but went out and pissed into the holes. I would put the tip of my little pee-pee right into the hole and piss as much as I wanted. It was a big secret for me. How I found out about jacking off, was when I got to be bigger and sometimes still pissed into the pipes.

 Another boy was there one day and I showed him my piss holes in the pipes. He thought it was cool and wanted to know if I made gissom go into the pipes. I never heard anybody else use the word gissom, but it was his word for cum. He showed me his stiffie and started pumping it. In a minute or two he stepped to the pipe and put the end of his dick up to a hole and pumped some more. When he was through I didn't know anything happened because his cum all went into the hole.

Some time later, I went by and I would get boners remembering what that other kid did in the pipes. One day I started pumping like that other boy did. I got a real horny-feeling and the stuff shot out onto the corrugated iron wall without me knowing it was going to happen. After that making my load shoot into one of the holes was big stuff for me which I sometimes showed different boys if I thought they would like to do it.

Anonymous

Gary and his Stiff Problem

This happened when I was fourteen and still on the farm.

 Gary called and asked if he could come over for the day. I said sure, but I have a lot of field work that has to be done. I told him I would be working in the field by his house. He said he can come to the field and meet me there. I arrived at the field to get started working, but mostly I was anxiously waiting for  for Gary.

He finally crossed their fence and came running over to me. We kind of gave each other a bro-hug, but then I began explaining to him what had to be done in the field.

 He looked at me and said that he can help but first he needed to ask something. He said he has a problem and needed some help.

  "Yeah Gary, what's your problem?"

  He glances at me and says "Well! I wake up with a boner every morning. and it hurts sometimes."

 He looks at the ground and continued,  "Sometimes!.... it stays hard for a long time."

 "You're older and well, I was wondering if you know how I can make my dick go down and not stay hard."

 I patted him on the back, and said, "I know what you're saying. When I was twelve I had those same problems as you're having." I left my hand rested on his arm and continued, "I finally figured it out that I needed to play with my boner until I cum, and only then it would go down and not hurt anymore."

I stepped back and asked him if he ever played with his boner and made it cum?

He shrugged his shoulders, and scratched his head in bewilderment. "No well  umm...I haven't, can you help me out?"

 "Dude, lets get these hay bales on the tractor bucket, and after we deliver them to the barn, I 'll show you."

After the chores we went into my room. I said "You still ready?" 

He was already taking off his pants. But he looked up while slipping off his white undies and nodded really fast.

With my instructional voice I told him, "If  you follow what I do and you will never have that problem again.

I pulled my boner out as his rose to attention.

 He sheepishly asked if mine was the same size as his when I was 12, or was mine always bigger and with all them hairs. I actually couldn't remember if I got hairs at 11 or 12, but I just told him I was the same, so that he wouldn't feel bad.

As I stroked mine slowly, he wiggled two fingers and a thumb around the base and followed on up to his little pink head, just like I was doing with my fist. He tried to fist pump his but the head disappeared and he went back to the two finger method much to my delight.

Basically, he followed everything I was doing and we both shot our loads. Of course his was a few clear drops, but he obviously was satisfied he had done what I showed him. 

He looked at me and thanked me and told me how good it felt.

I smiled and said, "You're welcome, just keep doing it like that and your dick won't hurt again.

 

Farm Boy 

 

 

Tommy's Top-Notch Shot

  Call me Tommy if you want to. My step-father was a crude person and so were the rest of the guys in his family. All of the men were filthy-mouthed even around women and kids. Two of his brothers owned a garage. They did all the work on our worn-out cars. I would go along and hang out at the garage if there was nothing better to do.

 All the mechanics were just as trashy as the owners. While they worked on people's cars and trucks they constantly cursed and talked about sex and women and drinking in very vulgar terms. I learned a lot from just listening. For instance, one of the mechanics got a ticket for failing to stay in lane. With me standing there and listening, he claimed that he told the cop, "I'll drive all over the road if I want to, just like I make love all over the bed." Stuff like that gave me a lot of little mysteries to think about before I hit puberty.

 The point of this is that after I started jacking off I would often do it in the restroom at the garage. I didn't think the men really paid any attention to me so I would go into the filthy bathroom and stay a while, however long it took to fire a good load. Sometimes I'd walk to the garage by myself just to wank in the stinking restroom. While I was beating my meat I could hear the mechanics cussing and telling lies and talking about their latest sex conquest.

  One time I worked myself up to a really horny state. I kept playing with my stiffie until it was harder than I could remember. The restroom was about the size of a closet, one toilet and a lavatory. The toilet faced the door, which I was always careful to lock. I sat on the crapper, leaning back against the tank, my shirt unfastened so I could tickle myself. My pants and whitie tighties were down around my ankles, my knees spread wide and my feet against the door.

 I stayed there getting harder and harder. I'd get myself close to cumming and then ratchet back for a little while, trying to stay right at the brink of ejaculation without quite reaching a climax. You know what I mean, you've probably done it yourself.

 Finally I couldn't take it any longer and fired my ammunition. The first surge shot out like a shell out of a rifle and smacked right onto the faded paint on the old paneled door. From there it gradually oozed its way downward.

 Since the restroom was the dirtiest hole in town I didn't pay much attention to my cum. It could go wherever it wanted to while I grooved on the funky feelings.

 BUT: The next time I went back to the restroom (fully intending to fire another round from my trusty 14-year-old hard-on), I got an eye-full.

 Several of the dried squirts of my magnificent cum-shot had been circled with red marker. And right next to the highest circle on the door was this sentence: GOOD SHOT TOMMY.

 I could never bring myself to masturbate in the garage restroom again. Matter of fact, I quit going there at all. I spent hours of my time trying to decide which guy left the message of congratulations for me but even now I still don't have a clue. I was sure the earthy brothers would out me to my step-father, but if they did, he kept it to himself.

But man, that was a cum-shot to remember.

Anonymous

Sharing the Kleenex

I'm not picking a favorite from this post,  'cause they are all nice looking. I want to comment about #2 however, specially his blue plaid boxers showing above his shorts. This cousin came for the holidays with his family one year, he was sleeping in my top bunk. A little time goes by the first night and we have got quiet when he says to me, Hey! You got any tissues?

What the hell, I was 13 and been jacking off a while, so I keep a box of tissue by the bed. I go, Sure, I'll get you one.

He says Maybe two or three!

I grab the whole box and stand up to hand him the box. The dude is wearing nothing except blue plaid boxers. He is stretched out full length in the top bunk, bare feet at one end and tangle of hair at the other end. And he has got one hand lost in the elastic of his shorts.

So he is 14, a year older than me. What goes through my head! He must be pumping his pecker! I get back in my bed and think I can feel him jerking only I don't know for sure. But another thing I do know for sure, my own peter is hard as a rock and waiting for a little action of its own.

I think, maybe he wants privacy. Then I think, maybe he was showing off. Or maybe he wants to be jacking pals. Or maybe he would get mad if he found out I knew. All kinds of thoughts!

Finally I say, I think I need some tissues too.

He goes, Come on up and get 'em.

When I reach for the box he goes, You got a job to do?

I didn't know what to say. Grabbed the box of tissue and got back in bed. I go to whamming away at my boner. He says Hey! Slow and easy! Slow and easy!

Oh hell, he knows what I am doing. In a minute he says Can I come down there?

As soon as he gets in my bunk he said I was doing something up there. I got to finish it, you know what I mean.

Right away he goes to jacking himself while laying right by me.

Go ahead, finish your job he tells me.

After while we quit fooling each other and get a good feel of our hard dicks. He said I will do you a little okay? Then I got to do him. Well right away we both shoot our cum. My shot was awesome, it give me goose bumps while squirting out. meanwhile he feels of me while cumming. And we do that the rest of the nights before he leaves. I remember him laying in bed with nothing on except blue plaid boxers with one hand in the elastic.

Anonymous