He Gave me my First Cum

A little story. It is how another boy gave my dick its first cum.

It started off like normal kid-stuff...innocent in the intent, but somehow things went in the direction of arousal, and when Boys can be Boys.

It all started off when he wanted to see if I was ticklish. He got me to lay down. He tickled a lot on my legs and belly. After while he slid my shorts down and got to tickling around places outside  my underpants. He told me I sure had a stiff peter. He tickled it a lot. Then he said ready? And he spread the fly of my underwear and let my peter stick up which he kept tickling and wiggling. I felt like I was real stiff. He said we got to do something about this. And made his fingers go up and down on it. I was so proud he liked my peter.

He asks, "Are you coming?" Honestly, I didn't know because I never did that before. Another thing he said kind of surprised me. I reckon it was not something I truly expected to hear form another boy, he says,  "I didn't know you had such a nice peter." I got chills and goose bumps. I decided that if someone already has a peter and they compliment yours, well it seemed to be a damn nice thing to say. I suddenly had the upmost trust in him. He worked on handling my supreme peter in such a way that enhanced my elation, I felt royal.

After a lengthy session of him doting on me, he said he thought I was coming and just relax. I felt crazy but did not want it to stop. All of a sudden I got my first cum. I had a bunch of squirts and also a climax and the stuff went all over me and drops ended up on my friend. I felt real crazy.

 Right away he pulled out his boner and started doing the same thing to himself. Now that we got started we were big buddies and did it together all the time.

Anonymous

My Life Baring it All

When I get a story such this one that follows, I feel there is not much need for an introduction. You read it and comment with your thoughts.
E~

My family life was such a shit that I exploded with excitement and confidence the year that my Teacher from my school gave me a shower, washed my hair and held me. The fact that we were naked, well I never thought about it. All that I remember is that Coach told me that I was a valued child of God.

Later, that June of 1975 and I went to Camp Greystone. Coach worked there too. It should be said that  my parents never wanted kids, they even gave two away before I was born. So when my teacher and later my Coach showed an extra bit of parentage towards me I was thrilled. Me, once a slug of a boy, I got stronger and faster much because of Coach Miller. I tried because Coach liked me.

I've read the varied stories here. I was shocked at how much our world has changed. I recently went back to the camps of my childhood to discover how artificial, unduly protective and structured they have become. In my day, we had one swim test on Day One (always a naked swim) to prove that we could hold our own in the water. From then on we were assigned cabins and counselors. For most campers, our counsels and CITs were like substitute parents while we played and flocked in the wild, always with a buddy.

These were the years of self-discovery. I found that some coaches were good and some were different in school and at camp. In the years that I was a kid in school boys always swam naked together. We got desensitized to the whole "evil" of nakedness.

 More than once, my coaches touched me sensually---but not sexually. Coach Jim washed my hair. Coach Pat gave me my first "Your Body is Growing" speech and answered all my questions. Father John tucked me in every night at camp and never fucked me. Imagine that, a priest that didn't molest boys. Sorry for being snarky. But I get upset that all the good men who've never molested boys in, out, and around the Church are forgotten and never got praised for a job well done. Coach Tim, barely older than my own father, slept in a chair checking my fever throughout the night. The hands of many good men have touched my body. I owe them all a debt of gratitude.

We, in America, seem to have gotten all "STRANGER DANGER SCARED" because of a few that we have allowed others with agendas to to sink the whole male race of good men.

Now in my 60s I shake my head with confusion when I have to call and wait for the arrival of a parent for the boy I have to treat with an outbreak of Poison Oak in the nether region---for liability reasons.

I will be happy to die soon. Perhaps my last thoughts will be of Jim Miller washing my feet with soap and water and me giggling the whole time while he is explaining why a boy must change his socks daily.

---Dr. S. Stevens

How Can I Get Out of Taking Showers?

My experience is different from the rest of the guys in these posts.

 I attended a private school located in a building that used to be the Sunday School of a church (but it was not a religious school).

The main emphasis there was on academics. I believe the people who ran the school thought things like art, music and PE were time-wasters that sidetracked students from their real work. However, to get accredited by the state they had to add PE which happened in my 10th grade year.

During the summer a concrete block addition was built containing lockers and showers. The first time I got a look at the PE building, all I could think was "How do I get out of doing this?" But on the first day of class I had a change of heart. I walked across the locker room to the showers with my towel wrapped around my waist. Several wet, naked boys stood under the warm cleansing spray. My attention was caught by a guy lathering his privates with plenty of soap. The suds looked like a white Christmas wreath on his crotch, with his dick dangling out of the middle of the foam like somebody sticking their tongue out. I wanted to laugh but forced myself to keep a straight face.

That one kid changed my mind immediately. This PE thing was going to be "interesting" in a big way. And it was. People soon got tired of hiding their crotches with towels. Everybody saw everybody else's goods on a daily basis. PE added a whole new dimension to school for me. I started looking forward to that class more than any other.

The Need for Showers - Our Role

Guys, we continue to receive comments about showers for youth, and I like the continued enthusiasm over the topic. Read 3 comments below.
Eric~

Reader #1
On Bath-tub Only Boys -

Everybody is probably tired of reading about the physical layout of showers instead of the educational value. A series of quick observations and then I'll jump back into my cage.

I am on the alumni council of the university I attended. I am familiar with older dorms and also get to tour new dorms (and other facilities) before the students ever move in. For buildings constructed before the late 1940's and continuing into the early 1960's, there were communal bathrooms on each wing of men's dorms. The typical layout was six sinks with mirrors, two urinals, three toilet stalls without doors and a shower area for four men at a time. There was no consideration of modesty.

Beginning in the mid and late 1960's doors were added to the stalls in old buildings, but it was not economically feasible to alter the shower areas. New construction provided individual shower stalls, but no private changing area.


From the 1970's to the 1990's each shower stall included a private changing cubicle.

And beginning in the 1990s (continuing today) dorms are designed as slick apartment buildings. Each unit includes its own private bathroom and enough personal space for the number of roommates living in that apartment.

Nobody wants to live in the oldest dorms until they have been totally reconstructed to provide a high level of privacy. Personally, I think something important has been lost, but we are living in the "Me" generation.

A Lurker


Reader #2
  Evaluation of the "Roaming Locker Room Coach" Poll
(Poll is no longer available to view)

Running before school, take a shower. Regular PE class 4th period, take a shower. Basketball practice after school, take a shower. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time naked in the school shower. The coaches passed through, but didnt linger. It never bothered me if they were in there.

I figured out I was gay in sixth grade and sometimes wished they would notice.

Anonymous







Reader#3
A Few Thoughts on Showers and Such 

  A Co-worker has a middle school son (7th grade), who is on the school Football team. We are in a US Southern state and so August afternoon workouts (after school) would melt these boy's stamina in probably 45 minutes or less. So the coach has called 6:30 AM work-outs and team practice. My friend's son is suited-out and gets dropped off by 6:30 and commits hard effort to the drills etc.. Even by 8:00 AM here the temps are approaching 90 degrees, so you can be sure these boys are sweaty, and smelly at the end of Football practice

My friend, said,  that after practice the boy tried to use the School showers. Like Dad he is a larger size fellow, and takes his personal hygiene seriously so as not to appear slovenly. So in the lockers rooms he is equipped with soap shampoo and his school clothes, only to find the place is a complete neglected wreck. Hardly any of the shower heads work, (the valves are likely calcium locked), and the walls and tiles are "gross looking" as the boys stated. Many of the team-mates also declared they wouldn't use those showers because it's nasty.

Apparently since the boys in regular P.E. classes ignore showers, and the coach has no  leverage to compel the boys to shower,  the whole event is bypassed. Obviously the end result is a shower room that falls to decay from lack of use, and even more-so lack of maintenance by custodial staff since there are no kids using the shower facility.

My friend's son has dedicated to maintain some form of cleanliness, so he carries wet-wipes to pat himself to a modest level of cleanliness before getting dressed for his day's classes.

It sure makes you wonder how did we get here, raising a generation or two of stinky swamp-ass kids?

Anonymous

Todd Versus - Heli-Mom v2.0

This post captured my attention in a big way because of an incident that is continuing to happen in our family. One of my nephews, Todd, has been sheltered from everything of a sexual nature. He is my divorced sister's only child and was raised on a very tight leash. I think she would have been happy if the poor kid had never hit puberty.

She called me two or three years ago, real upset, and told me she was pretty sure that the boy was "playing with himself," and then went on to chew me out for bringing the "gay gene" into the family. I told her she should relax. Simply leave the boy alone and let him have his privacy, that he was perfectly normal. That rubbed her the wrong way. As best as I can figure out, she laid down the law and warned Todd to never do anything nasty to himself.


Since he got no support from her, he apparently turned to a slightly older cousin to ask whether he was injuring himself as my sister had apparently stated. That cousin was raised in a much more open way and he told his own parents about the conversation with Todd. Also that he was worried about Todd. In that way Todd's mother got word that he was seeking information without letting her know.

My sister went ballistic. She quit her job and moved herself and Todd to another town where she does not have to put up with our interference. Todd is now 15. She is sending him to a church for counseling because she believes he is still "doing it."

Anonymous

Grant & The Ultimate Helicopter Mom

In this author's story he outlines a parental style that defies any reasonable sense of preparing your child for the real world or responsible adulthood. Eventually there comes a time that every kid has to know how to choose right and wrong. If not.... "Wrong" sure might look pretty attractive, just for fun.
Eric~ 

I knew a boy named Grant whose mother did not want him to "lose his innocence" therefore she kept him away from a lot of things that many kids take for granted.

The most obvious being television and video games, Grant was only allowed to watch a carefully curated set of movies that his mother picked out for him. He attended home-school so his parents particularly his mother had a lot of control over what information Grant was allowed to have access to. Grant's parents were not especially religious either, I think they believed in God but they were not in regular attendance at any church nor did they have any type of family devotional time. I mention that because many people equate home-school with religious fundamentalism and Grant's family wasn't really deep into religion.

At the age of 12 Grant still did not know the proper names of his body parts, he still thought his penis was basically a hose for urine. I know because Grant's mom told me several times, she thought this was a good thing. Grant was innocent. I also knew because I overheard him say "my wee wee" he was 12 years old. I overheard him tell his mom that his "wee wee" kept becoming stiff in the morning and his mom told him to just ignore it. I wonder if he really ignored it.

I lost contact with them and the next time I saw Grant he was 14 years old, tall and handsome. I couldn't help but wonder if he knew by then that his wee wee is now a penis? Did he still ignore those erections? Surely not.

Grant was so innocent and his mom wanted to keep him that way. I just think that nature had other plans eventually.

Anonymous

The Crossing of Ages

An anonymous reader wanted to share this with everyone. The Author of the poem is unknown according to him. I did not vet it through the Google, but I will allow it.
E~

There is what has gone,
And there is what is yet to come.
They join at a moment
We call today.
The past and the future
Are neither better than each other
Nor worse than each other.
They are merely different
From each other.
To deny an old man
The importance of the past
Is no less callous
Than to deny a young man
The mystery of the future.
Thus we meet at the present,
Choosing between two prayers:
One we call laughter
Or one we call tears.
Handle the past reverently
For it has already been the future.

(Author unknown)

Bath-Tub ONLY Boys

Some of us grew up in times that many homes did not have both a shower and a tub. Read 2 reader's stories below About their homes with no shower.
E~

Reader #1
 When I grew up we only had a bathtub in the house, so in 7th grade I actually learned how to shower by watching many of the other boys to see what they did and what to do with the bar of soap and the shampoo.

I also learned by observation some different ways to apply sick and spray deodorant. (You don't have to raise your arm straight in the air and then fan it with your other hand to dry. And you can even apply it when you have your shirt on by sticking it under your shirt. I did not know these things!)



 Reader #2
In our house we all shared a single bathroom, so ever since I was little I always just took baths. I remember when I was a young teen regretting how we didn't have a shower. Especially after mowing the lawn. A nice cool-off would likely bring down my core temp quickly on a summer day. But that was not to be had.

Instead it turned into a good reason to have a private wank while soaking in the tub trying to cool off. . Being our only bathroom, it was rare I got this luxurious soak time, I reckon Mom knew I deserved a long bath after mowing the yard, and I never got any grief those days. After a bit, the porcelain was sure not as comfy as my bed, but I guess the increased activity from mowing and the occasional handlebar vibrating my groin some whenever I had to push away from the fence, I just really needed that soak and spunk.

A few thoughts on Showers and such -

From Thunder Cloud

(This may not be worth posting, but it's kind of amusing.)

There was a news clip on TV recently about tearing down a vacant school that was built in 1900. The reporter tried to be poetic. She talked about demolishing the building "from the pigeons in the attic to the boys locker room in the basement."

Hmm. That means boys showered and changed in 1900, doesn't it? And very likely they thought nothing of it.

So in 1900 people were civilized enough to take showers out of respect for each other. But 118 years later, after all the advances society has made, we're now a bunch of smelly wimps?

That's kind of absurd

 

 

From Farm Boy

Today if the kids do not want to take a shower they do not have to. They go to class smelling dirty. When I was in school, we had to take a shower. as soon as we got back in the locker room. The teacher yelled out "Strip out of your clothes and get into the shower... use soap and shampoo." 

When you come out of the shower you will use deodorant when you get dressed, when we were all dressed we stood in a line and the teacher checked us to see if we used soap and shampoo and deodorant. the shower was large enough were we all could take our shower together. never bothered any of us to see any of us naked. 

Then My rant.....

Okay so we know that through the ages, including the Greek and Roman classical era people bathed in a communal public setting, Completely unconcerned of age or gender. The obvious and practical purpose was to cleanse the body and to effect a societal gathering. Indeed in our modern age, it was not that long ago that young men swam competitively in the nude at School and at the YMCA.

  

What dementia exists in our civility of modern conscience that describes that males should abhor any display of the nude form. What pious revolution has secretly  happened to deviate our minds into disgust for the human body? I am curious how, our modern minds are riddled with modesty and why do we posture accusations of sexual deviance of anyone who might kindly observe a nude partner of  the same gender?

E~

"IT" Happened in the Shower

Like a bite of the forbidden fruit, once a guy gets the first tasty bit of the good stuff..... It's ON!!
Eric~

I was a very goody-goody boy in my early years. I didn't have any secrets from my parents, nor anything to be ashamed of. Until "It" happened one day. I was twelve and just taking a normal shower when I realized that I was giving my stiff little prick a lot more attention than usual. I ordered myself to stop touching that part of my body, but there was a problem.

My little stiffie was sticking straight out and begging for attention. I soaped it up and gave it some extra rubbing. After a little while I thought, that's enough of that. But Dickie was still stiff. I began a second round of scrubbing. My inflexible weenie felt very strange. I wiggled it, wobbled it and jiggled it. Then the strange feelings spread to my entire body. Quit it! I told myself. And for a moment I did quit. Slowly letting the shower rinse all the soap off my innocent little hard-on. But something drove my hand straight back to my wee erection. Just as I gave my dick a few little pumping motions with my thumb and two fingers, all hell broke loose. My dick pulsed and the strange feelings took control of me, centering in the back of my neck and the small of my back. The feelings scared the shit out of me. And then - - - I can't explain how the next moments felt. It was as if my erect little peter contained a pressurized can that suddenly fired, sending an unprecedented crescendo through my little pee-pee and making me stagger back from the water spray.


 What the heck had happened? Why did I feel so peculiar? I wrapped my hand around my little dick and tiny balls. They felt slimy. Yet I had rinsed them off! What in God's name? The next chapter of this story is that I "experimented" the next night. And soon my "experiments" turned into a compulsion. I looked forward to my nightly showers because I knew I was going to do a very private and secret thing to myself. I was going to make my little dickie shoot out that strange sticky stuff. I made it happen every night. And I loved it. Loved it every night in the shower, and suddenly had a secret. Nobody knew my secret. Not my parents, not my friends, just me. And how I loved that excellent moment when the secret stuff shot out of little Dickie and splattered on the tile.

Anonymous

"Naked Night" at Camp?

Did anybody else ever have "Naked Night" at camp?

 I went to several camps without ever hearing about it, but when I was about 12 the counselor in our cabin asked if we wanted to have a naked night. I didn't know what it was. Another boy told me you take all your clothes off and just go on about your business. He giggles and said, you can see everybody else's peter. It seemed interesting enough, I felt I should at least watch all this.

 So the counselor said we would begin naked night 30 minutes before bedtime. Then after the naked rumpus, we all got in bed, but we were all still naked.

 My friend tip-toed to me and whispered, wait and see what happens. People were giggling. In a while it got quiet like they were asleep. Then a bigger boy got up and went real quiet to another boy's bed. He was still bare. He turned around to us and put his finger to his lips. Then he took hold of the boy's covers and suddenly pulled them up. The boy in the bed was holding onto his dick. At my age of innocence I thought he was just hiding his peter, but there was more to it than that. The bigger boy who'd pulled the covers back said, "Caught you bopping it!" In straight-up denial the other guy said that he was not.

After while another boy got up and prowled around the room, looking at all the other boys. He said to a boy, "You are doing it." The one in bed always denied he was doing anything. But his covers would be pulled back to see if he really was doing something. Then the other dude said "But you got a boner going."

They had another Naked Night. I thought it would be cool to have my covers pulled back. I laid very still, holding onto my dick and pretending to be asleep. After while a boy came to my bed and said I was doing it. I said no I was not. That was true because I didn't know what he was talking about. But he pulled back my covers and said, Ronnie's got a stiffie.

It seemed like most boys wanted somebody to sneak up and expose their peters. The guys that didn't play kept their underpants on and told the others, get away from me. It was the first time I played any game about my dick. After a naked night people talked about who had boners in bed and if they were bopping it.

Anonymous

Getting My First

 I was right around the age of twelve when I first spilled my sperm. I already knew all about masturbating from watching my friends do it to themselves. They always teased me because I would not let them jack me off. I mean.... I would let them jack me to the point were it started to feel funny then I made them stop jacking on my peter.

One day I was all alone in the house and I said to myself I was going make it happen. I was in the bathroom standing over the toilet seat and admiring my hard peter. I grab some Vaseline and rub it on my peter like my friends would do to me when they jacked on my peter. I reach down and started to play with my peter. The foreskin would move up over the head as I was jacking. The more I jacked, the better it felt. I started to feel like I did when they were jacking me. I started to stiffen up but I could not stop jacking.

Then something started to happen.... my peter was getting a little harder. My body started to jerk. My hand seemed to have a mind of its own. I started to breath heavier. I just could not stop jacking and then it happened. Sperm flew all over the toilet seat. Although there was not very much sperm, but it was white in color. I straighten up my breathing started to calm down. I looked down at my peter, it was starting to slowly go down. I grab some toilet paper and wipe the head off. I wipe-up all the sperm that flew onto the toilet seat. I thought that was amazing. From that time on, I had to jack off all the time, I was also jacking to a cum along with my friends.

Farm Boy

A Boy in Nature

Joe read this post and reflected on something from his past, he shares some thoughts below.
E~

Being 14 is an awesome year. Boys are getting a nice physique, yet often still cute and petite. Many of them still have their long locks, and the skin is still fresh and smooth. The voice is might be kind of high, but cracking with a deeper tone.

 I remember being extra horny in those years. I used to like riding my bike into the woods, get to place where I thought no one can see me, bring my pants and underwear to my knees and jerk-off.

The feel of the cool air on my dick and balls was so exciting. It was secluded sure, but so different than doing it at home. Perhaps it was slightly more naughty and daring.  But so worth it, here with crisp air, light breezes, the dampness of spring-time grass under my feet. It all just magnified every sensation, until the eventual release was massive. I'd have these tense straining cum blasts that felt like you'd just dump a whole gallon!

Joe

Doing it Together is More Fun....Even If?

This reader's comment was on  "I was Maybe his Secret Gay Outlet", I felt it should run as a post.  E~

I had a regular jacking friend in 8th and 9th grade and we actually talked about whether jacking together meant we were gay. If I remember, we talked about it in two opposite ways.

[1] If he jacks me off but I don't jack him off, I'm not gay.

Or,

[2] If I jack him off but he doesn't jack me off, I'm not gay.

We never resolved it, never figured out if either one was true. At that age neither of those rules really meant anything, however we shot lots of loads together but only rarely touched each other for fear of appearing gay.

As it turned out, I was and he wasn't. But we had no way of figuring it out at 14 and 15, just knew that doing it together with the other dude increased the good feelings.

Anonymous

A Horny Ride with Ben

Oh you guys will have fun with this one.
E~

My grandfather was a carpenter. He did jobs such as remodeling a house or adding a room. For several years I lived with my grandparents and during the summers I would often go out on a job with him. That made me feel pretty big.

One time Grandpa and his crew were on a project when they ran out of dry-wall screws. Any glitch like that irritated Grandpa because he prided himself on planning every project down to the last nail. Now somebody had to waste time leaving the job site and making a run to the builder's supply store.

Apparently he thought I was the least useful person on the job, so he hollered for me, dangled the keys to his pickup at me and told me to get my butt in gear.

I walked out front and got in the driver's seat with my heart pounding. I was 14. It didn't occur to Grandpa that I had never driven on the streets before. As a matter of fact my entire driving experience was limited to a few instances of moving my grandmother's car up and down the driveway. I certainly didn't have a driver's license, not even a learner's permit. What's more, the pickup had a standard transmission with the shift lever on the steering column. And that meant I had a clutch pedal to think about also. I was deeply exhilarated at the unexpected chance to drive, but also more than a little scared. All I knew about shifting was what I'd observed while Grandpa drove.

Now, a little background about another event. A few months earlier I woke up one morning and found gooey stuff in my boxers. My cousin Ben, who shared a room with me at our grandparents' house, identified the stuff as cum and congratulated me. With his help I learned how to fire my pistol whenever I needed relief.

I was in the 8th grade at the time and became horny nearly every day at school. I began to walk through a city park each day on my way home so I could pump one out in the restroom rather than arriving home with a boner in my low-rise jeans.

Now I was in Grandpa's nice baby-blue-and-white Ford pickup, engine running, clutch depressed, gearshift in what I hoped was "Low," hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. I released the clutch pedal. Too fast! The vehicle leaped forward and stalled. Again. Another uncontrolled lurch.

But it soon became easy. Within a few blocks I was rolling happily down the street and accelerating smoothly away from stop signs and traffic lights. And of course I was loving it. By the time I bought the screws and started back, I had mastered the whole rhythm of clutch-shift-gas. I was thoroughly psyched, an invincible driver after only 20 or 30 minutes!

But while I drove smoothly along the streets, something unforeseen happened. As I covered block after block my dick extended itself inside last-year's tight jeans and became increasingly aroused. I was seriously primed. Each shift, each operation of the clutch, each turn of the wheel - everything about driving communicated a further degree of erection to my stiff dick.

I believe now that the excitement of driving that stick-shift truck for the first time was somehow a sexual event in my subconscious, contributing to my coming-of-age and making me so increasingly horny that I couldn't stand it.

Then an idea: Why not detour to the park and take care of my need before heading back to the job? All of us know that feeling of freedom the first time we drive alone. I can go anywhere, do anything. So I drove to the park, steered the truck expertly between the white lines of a parking space, and looked around. It would be so perfect if some of my friends happened to see me driving. But that didn't happen.

What did happen was one of the most intense orgasms I ever enjoyed. Driving the truck had made me so unbearably hard that I was already on "final approach," so to speak, while tugging at my zipper and pulling out my enlarged cum-shooter from the too-small "work" jeans. Within my first few strokes the climactic feelings washed over my whole body. I couldn't believe that I was already cumming. But it was true - the unexplainable feeling of "almost there" was followed by a moment of suspense while my delivery system reached its critical moment.

And then came the blast! It was simply unbelievable. Ben and I played around a lot, including bedtime wanks. But this one was different. It was a full-body sensual explosion that sent streams and lumps of pressurized ejaculate spurting onto the wall above the trough. I stood there with a string of cum hanging from my dick, heart pounding like it had when I first sat in the truck's driver seat. "Wow," was all I could think. "Wow!"

I took my time heading back to the job site, driving around just for the hell of it. My dick kept reminding me that I'd had an epic experience at the park. Without taking my eyes off the road I reached down and turned on the radio, locating an AM pop station that Grandpa would have never allowed. I was master of the world, driving that truck and grooving over my feeling of sexual satisfaction.

 I pulled up in front of the job site still savoring the intensity of the whole adventure. Handed Grandpa the keys and the screws.

"Took you long enough," he complained.

"Yeah," I agreed, and went back to work prying up baseboards.

Regi

The Fountain of Very White, Foamy "Stuff"

Hi Eric -  I am submitting this follow-up to that sleepover story of mine:

 

 After my first cum at 13, at the hands of my best friend on that sleepover, I turned a page in my life and I was no longer that innocent little boy anymore. Now I knew about sex. I became quieter and more of an introvert. I was confused by how much I loved seeing and touching my friends penis and cringed at the thought of someone else finding that out!

 

  I began to think of girls a lot less and of boys a lot more. I would think about "special" sleepovers with them, especially the petite long-haired cute boys. I would also relive that night with my friend very often in my mind and get very excited.

 

 Up to this point I had never masturbated. I didn't even know how it was done! So now allow me to detail the follow-up which was a short time after the sleepover. It's still summer vacation and I decided to watch TV in our den. I put some pillows together and laid down on my back on the couch. I was wearing a T-shirt and little "dolphin" shorts (blue with white stripes on the side), and tube socks (I'm dating myself!). As I laid there I couldn't help but to maintain a rock hard boner. I also noticed that it tingled/itched, prodding me to touch it. 

 

 I put my hand in my shorts and gently glided the skin up and down the shaft. Oh, did it relieve the tingly itch, but soon the itch came back. Amazingly nature was teaching me to masturbate! No one was in the den or could see me, so I pulled down my shorts and underwear. It felt so wonderful to glide my skin up and down the shaft. The tighter I gripped, the better. After a few times I felt what I can only describe as an electric shock throughout my body! It scared me at first and I stopped. Soon I became very curious and decided I would not stop when I got that feeling.

 

I gripped my penis tightly. I can still feel the muscle of my little hard shaft as the soft outer layer of skin glided over it. The electric shock feeling came again. I let it get stronger and stronger and suddenly I felt like I was going to pee all over the place. I held back and hard as I could, but could not stop the powerful sensation. My dick was pointed upwards and I watched in amazement as it erupted in a fountain of very white, foamy "stuff". I shot high up in the air and then spattered on my little tummy. I made about three copious shots until I felt my cum running off myself. I cupped my hand under it all and bolted for the bathroom which was right near by. I sopped-up all this gooey "stuff" and then began to feel like I was going to be sick. It felt like someone punched me in the stomach. I laid back down and tried to suppress the sick feeling which eventually subsided.

 

 Now between this and the recent naughty sleepover with my friend, I was all the more confused!

What's interesting is how my first cum was practically all water, my second was this powerful fountain of white foamy sperm, and then afterwards, the typical spurt of a teaspoon of clear/milky sperm. 

I've never came like I did on that first masturbation session ever again, and I never chatted with anyone who's had a similar experience. If I had it on video it would amaze anyone! - as well as be quite popular I'm sure ;)

Hope you enjoyed  :) 

 

Joe 

Maybe I was his Secret Gay Outlet?

This post came in intended to be a comment I believe, however I wanted to allow all of our readers to appreciate.
Eric~

I had a friend as a young teen (the word 'friend' might be stretching it), who would only come by me in school or talk to me I suppose only when he was gay-horny and he knew I would jerk him off or give him oral and keep it private. 

 What he'd do is see me between classes and say, "Wanna come over my house after school?" I knew what he was actually saying was he wanted me to come over and jerk him off. (He'd touch and play with mine a little bit, but never enough to make me cum.) Once he had his climax it was pretty clear it was time for me to go home. So I think this boy had a lot of conflict and guilt about this, and I was maybe his secret gay outlet? 

We were 14. 

Anonymous

The Shame in Something Gay - Persecution Prevails

Here is a topic for you guys. I read something like this many years ago and was astounded how high the number is.
Eric

I heard that the overwhelming majority of males have had a same-same sex experience at some point in their lives and many live guilty and ashamed, or even confused by it, their entire lives. Especially if they enjoyed the experience.

I believe that is why a lot of "straight" males act so anti-gay. It's a wall they hide behind to be sure within themselves that there is no question as to their sexuality despite what happened.

 Anonymous

I'm going to take these off too!

This is a first time story from a fine new Author. You'll enjoy his tale about early discovery with a pal and how a kid deals with it.
Eric~

Hi guys, a friend recommended your site and wanted to me to post my first time story. I hope you like it and will submit it to your blog. Here goes:

 It was summer vacation and my best friend and I were 13. We were both slim cute Italian boys. I with a head full of dark hair, him light brown. We played with the garden hose in my front yard, in our tight little bathing suits as we did in years past, but with one difference. This time we were both horny. Puberty was to blame! We innocently flashed each other and it was soon apparent that sex was on our minds rather than getting cool!

 

 We ended up in his room afterwards and I actually knew and anticipated what was going to happen next. He took his swimsuit off right in front of me and I thought I'd faint at the sight of his surprisingly big boner wagging around jutting out from a tight nest of dark hair. Instinctively I had to act shocked and laugh, but deep down I wanted to look closer at his dick and touch it. Soon he dressed and we quickly agreed to a sleepover in my den that night.

The early part of the evening was just watching TV and joking around. We both wanted something to happen though, we just didn't know how to initiate it. First our shirts came off, then suddenly our shorts, until we were both in out tightie-whities. I had a cute bubble butt by the way, his was flatter. As it got late, we both were laying in our sleeping bags close together on the floor, couch cushions served as extra padding. TV droning monotonous night time programming. 

 Out of nowhere my friend says "I'm going to take these off too, and whisked his underwear down. I so remember the sight of his boner wagging around free. And, again, I had to act shocked and turn away. He got me to relax and told me to check out how his dick gets soft and then rock hard. My heart was pounding that this was really happening and that I could check out his dick closely. It was beautiful for a boy of 13. It was a decent size and meaty when  soft, but hard it got wide and flat with an adult sized girth! It looked so nice jutting from his compact dense dark bush. He asked me to feel it and I quickly did. My body shuddered at the warm, spongy/hard feel of his young erection. I never felt another boys penis before, and I knew right then and there what I liked more than anything in the world! He let me feel and squeeze it all I wanted as he got quiet and reveled in the feeling.

 

  Soon he asked me to take my underwear off. I got to feeling very shy. One reason was my dick was just a chubby little sausage - cut, with a full knob. The knob was half the total length! My pubes were just a sparse "V". Comparing dicks was like a 12 year old comparing himself to an 18 year old! He asked over and over, and then began to beg. I told him to turn the lights out. When he did, I pulled my underwear completely down to my knees and told him what I did. Suddenly I felt my friends hand take grip of my little dick and balls, squeezing tighter and tighter! I literally went numb. I couldn't move or speak. It felt like my entire body was in his grip. The room was dark, warm, and totally silent. I can tell my friend was basking in the feeling.

 

 It felt like several minutes of this squeezing action passed and then something broke the silence. It was the sound of droplets of water spritzing on my nylon sleeping bag. I can clearly remember the sound of the pulses. At least 4 or 5. It was my first cum. Then I felt my friends thumb rub over the pee-slit on my knob.It felt wet.
 He whispered "I hate to tell you, but you just spermed".

 Now it all goes downhill from this point. For some reason I felt scared, ashamed, and sort of violated. I pushed his hand away and ran into the bathroom with my underwear in hand. I felt and saw all the wetness on my dick and didn't know exactly what had happened. 

 I turned a cold-shoulder towards my friend, I was fully dressed and slept on the couch rather than next to him. It was very late and we both just fell asleep.

 The next morning I practically pushed him out the door and felt very ashamed. Unfortunately our friendship quickly dissolved. I couldn't look at him anymore without seeing him naked. I feel so bad about how I reacted, but it was how I felt at the time. 

It would be many years later that I would be with a another guy, but then I made up for lost time quickly!   

Joey