Early Explorers and Moving-on

My best JO buddy just happened along at the right time, first as physically mature 10 year old boys (we both had budding pubes by that tender age). We both were trying to figure out what was happening to our bodies and later as boys curious enough to sexually explore with each other. He turned out straight as an arrow, he started dating girls when he was 16, married at 24 (I was at the wedding) and wow, he now has 7 children!



I should have known though because all that time we were active 10 to 15 years old, I can count on my fingers the number of times he gave instead of received. I usually gave him the handjobs, blowjobs and whatever else kind of job he wanted and then he had his orgasm. To my displeasure, he'd rush me out of his house to go play with his "real" friends.


I tried to start dating when he started dating. But I was awkward around girls, because I wasn't attracted to them and they actually bored me. The first girl I fooled around with was the twin sister (not identical) of my JO bud's first girlfriend. She let me play with her girlie parts, I didn't like the smell of it, nor was it as fun as a dick. She broke up with me and I was so relieved. It's funny now but she actually had the nerve to be upset because.... I wasn't sad bout the break-up.


Anonymous

The Guy who got me Started

Here is something bout how I started, helped by a random person. This was when I was a kid in early teens.


I was at a big store, needed to piss. I went in the men's room. I saw this other boy standing at one of the urinals. He was in the middle of three. I stood by his left and took mine out to piss. Obvious as heck, he wasn't pissing, but playing with his boner.


He whispers, "Yeah look." Damn, he could tell that I saw it. Also he is looking at mine. Without a word, he feels of me after my stream stopped. I just freeze and let him do this strange thing to me. I am of course getting hard. With his other hand he is jacking his dick faster and faster. Then he says "It's cumming." I saw him cum a lot. The goo shot onto the white porcelain, then the slow streams he just shakes off, looks away while he packs it in and zips up.


He just left without a word. I now had a lonely boner. I did what I had just seen on my own. It was the first time, but so horny right after the random shared experience . I did not see him ever again. He was the one that got me started.


Anonymous

Coming in Hot and Salty

 My friend and I were 15 at the time, he sucked me off real good and I came right into his mouth. He swallowed all of it, I was excited by the sight of my pulsing dick in my friend's mouth and knowing that my cum was going inside, and that he could taste it. I pulled my dick out and I watched him swallow it and then he opens to show me it was all gone. I asked him what it tasted like and he said "salty".

 The next day he wanted me to do the same thing on him. His dick was just like mine, we were both circumcised. I sucked for a while tasting his dick which had a slightly sweet taste I guess but eventually he took over not just relying on my oral. Instead he started jacking himself off and telling me to put my mouth over it as he was about to come. It all landed on my tongue in shot after shot. I didn’t really like the taste, but I let him continue spurting.

 When he finished I spit it out, he got upset because he had swallowed mine the day before. We didn't talk for a few days and when we did he said I owed him a do over. The next time I sucked him off I swallowed but felt like the taste lingered in my mouth. I went home and took a bottle of juice from the fridge and drank it straight from the bottle. A thing my mom hated but I felt like I had to, in order to get that lingering taste out of my mouth. I also felt like if anyone smelled my breath they would be able to tell what I had just done so when I came home I avoided my parents lest one of them gets to close and smells dick and semen on my breath.

Anonymous

Some made the Transition

This reader's comments sure would serve as a good conversation starter here? What are your thoughts, regrets, or fond memories?
~E

 A number of my friends were happy to be JO buddies in our early teens. That was just a normal phase that they went through. All of them turned out to be hetero. All except me, that is. Sometimes I wonder if they ever think of me as "the gay one," or if they think I made the jump to girls like they did.

Anonymous

I'll start with this. My first followed the str8 path, but contacted me years later to revisit the days from the past. For various reasons it was a NO. I'll leave that there, but you guys know me anyway.
Eric

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The More Developed Kid

 Although our schools were integrated, there were few black families in the town. Only one black guy was in my seventh grade PE. None in eighth grade. I remember the black dude being more developed than us white kids. He had pubes, very curly pubes, and his dick was larger than ours. After showering he put on his tightie whities and then took a moment to adjust his dick.


 Us white boys just pulled up our underwear and our dicks disappeared into our underpants. But the black guy always adjusted his dick to a position that was sort of horizontal. Sometimes he re positioned it two or three times. I was still a dumb little pre-pubertal geek so never wondered whether he got erections or shot cum. But I always took a sneaky peek to watch him getting his dick just where he wanted it. That was my secret sin at that age, watching the black guy tuck his dick in place.

Anonymous

Bed-time Experiments and Finally Success

Although it took a while to put all the details together, two of us that were groping each other in bed suddenly discovered the production of semen. We were lightly stroking each other's junk. Not actually playing with our pricks, merely maintaining a state of rock-hard erection that was strange to us.

The peculiar feelings of sexual arousal became greater and greater while my friend tickled my groin and balls. I got scared - the sensations alarmed me. I told him I needed to go to the bathroom. Before I could get out of bed I felt a tightening at the base of my dick. And suddenly my pelvis area was all wet with slimy goo. My friend accused me of pissing on his hand.

 That first ejaculation was not a proper climax, but it was the beginning of a few days of experimentation that culminated in the other guy pumping himself to a genuine cum-shot while I stared at his moving hand. We became the tightest of buds.

Anonymous

Take Me Home

 A few days ago while I was in the car, John Denver’s tune, “Country Road Take Me Home” came on the radio and brought back a very special memory of a rather frustrating family vacation when I was 16 years old. I was an only child, and every year my parents would take me by car on vacation somewhere. My parents would save up for it all year, we didn’t have much money, and we would always stay in an inexpensive economy motel. I was a fairly typical teenage boy, horny most of the time, getting frequent boners all day long, and masturbating at least once and usually twice every day. Also, as a 16-year-old, I was no longer as happy and excited to be going on vacation with my parents as I was when I was little kid.


For several hours in the car driving there, I must have gotten 3 or 4 throbbing rock hard boners because I didn’t have the opportunity to masturbate before we left. John Denver’s song was probably a top 10 hit at the time and played on the radio at least 3 times during our trip. With that song playing and a throbbing boner hidden in my pants that badly needed to be checked off, my brain was consumed with the desire TAKE ME HOME COUNTRY ROAD… so I can go in my room and masturbate!


Living for a few days in a tiny little motel room with my parents quickly became an agonizing burden for me. When we arrived that first day I had no privacy anywhere at all in my dick kept reminding me that I had not yet taken care of its daily needs. Lying in bed that 1st night, of course with more erections, I tried wiggling it but I was so afraid that I would wake up my parents that I just couldn’t get myself to cum.

  Then came the next morning, and I could spend at least a few minutes of the bathroom pretending to shower. In classic teenage style, I stripped naked, my throbbing boner popped up, I turned on the shower water for cover, and I madly started masturbating over the sink. But knowing that my mom was barely a few feet away on the other side of the door, made me so self-conscious that as badly as I needed to fire off a load it seemed to be taking my body forever to get there! Then I hear someone trying to open the bathroom door. I was so glad that I had it locked. It was my mom, and then she started pounding on the door, “Why is this door locked? And why is it taking you so long to shower??” Still stroking my Dick as fast as I could, I yelled back, “Mommmmmm!!!!! I’m almost done! Can’t I have even a little privacy??”

 That definitely destroyed the mood, my Dick started losing its erection, and I quickly jumped in to the shower for 30 seconds to wet myself with a pretend shower, then turned off the water and got out. As badly as I needed to masturbate, I was unsuccessful. It pretty much ruined the entire day, and again, I heard John Denver song at least a couple more times on the radio that day.

 Finally the next morning, now with a 3-day loaded my balls, again standing over the sink with the shower water running I successfully had a massive cum in the bathroom before jumping into the shower.
It was indeed very frustrating vacation. Hearing John Denver’s song on the radio last week brought back these bittersweet memories of how badly I wanted that country road to “take me home”.

Anonymous

CAJUN COUSIN (Part II)

Cajun Cousin continued from Part 1

My cuz slipped out of the bed and noisily felt around in his suitcase. I heard two rips as he tore off sheets of
towel.

“Now. Now we all set. You ready?”

Our hands collided under the covers as we both reached for the other guy’s stiffie.

“Oh Lord, Oh Lord!” he whispered. “Ya doin’ me so good. Oh! Makin’ me gonna chunk a lotta goo right
outa my thang.”

“I’m getting there too.”

“Ya thang’s so stiff. Hey. Whyn’t we ever do this before?”

“I guess we weren’t ready yet. How long you been jacking?”

“Ya right. I just started bangin’ mah pecker last Spring. We wasn’t ready yet. Ya gonna cum?”

“Almost. Almost. You?”

“Pert near. I got tha feelin’.”

We were both on the brink of ejaculation, feeling each other’s hands jerking back and forth while we
held our paper towels in readiness. All of a sudden I knew my cum was about to shoot.

“It’s cumming,” I whispered, lifting the covers a little higher. “Cumming! Cum- - -” A bunch of
streams shot out. They thumped hard into the towel, making my whole body shake. It was the mother of
all ejaculations, the great-granddaddy of all climaxes. I could hardly get my breath.

I was so spent from my cumshot that I thought I was going to pass out. I’ve never had another one
like it. I remember the cum surging up through the sensitive inner duct of my excited peter, sort of
itching its way to freedom. My dick felt three feet long. The warm wetness of the sperm penetrated a
double-fold of paper towel and saturated the palm of my hand. I was frantically folding and rolling
the saturated towel, trying to contain my juice and dry my hand. I’ve remembered it through the
years, a once-in-a-lifetime sexual explosion.

“Ya did it!! I felt ya make a squirt! Now me. Just a tad more. Now, now, now!”

I resumed work on my cousin’s erection. The whole bed bounced when he climaxed.

“Oh Lord! Oh Lord! Ya made me have a good one! Do you got a best friend at home?”

“Oh, one pretty good bud.”

“Ya guys do this sometimes? I mean together? Both of ya?”

“No. I never- - - We don’t - - -“

“Ya be my best friend, huh? Think of me when ya do it? Ever time? We got two more nights here. Then
we gotta wait a year till next reunion. Will ya think of me when ya gotta shoot it?? I’ll think of
you.”

“Sure. I’ll think of you.”

And it was true. I kept my promise, at first remembering him when I pumped my private loads. Then
during the next school term I made friends with two guys that liked to jack. And I continued to keep
my promise. Each time I shot a load with one of my buddies I always remembered my Louisiana cousin
with the swole-up dick, the roll of towels in his suitcase, and the unforgettable cumshot he treated
me to.

The End

Anonymous

CAJUN COUSIN (Part I )

I have a memory of possibly the best masturbation I ever experienced. Maybe you do too.

Every year we would go to a family reunion at a tiny little town on the Mississippi coast. A lot of
the houses had sleeping porches because the houses were built long before air-conditioning.

On the year that this took place I shared a double bed on the sleeping porch with a cousin that I
liked, a Louisiana boy, a Cajun. We saw each other only at the reunions and hung out together the
whole time.

We were settling down in the bed when he whispered something odd: "I got a problem. Down below." Of
course I had a suspicion what he was talking about. But I didn’t want to assume anything nasty, so I
whispered back “What is it?”

"Mah dick done swole up real bad," he confided as if he was complaining...... "Real bad!”

I didn't know exactly what to do with that information, but for the sake of friendship I answered that mine also gets that way sometimes.

"Is it like that right now?" he wanted to know. I told him it was getting to be that way. The conversation
was making it grow and I was secretly wiggling it with my finger while it got stiffer.

"Ya' think we orta check each other out?"

I told him he could check me if he wanted to. This was a first for me, a sexual act involving
someone else. I'd been jacking off for several months, always as a solo job. This would be totally
new, but it seemed like the obvious thing to do.

His fingers touched my briefs and felt around. A crazy tingle went through my balls. I thought, this
is a cool thing to happen.

He gave my weenie a squeeze and felt me up real good.

"Mah lands! He said. Yours done swole up too," he told me. "Now check mine."

Within seconds we were simultaneously feeling of each other's junk, tickling, squeezing and doing a
little jiggling. "Ya makin' me harder," he told me. Lemme help ya real good?"

He slid his hand inside my underwear and began feeling me and arousing me. The second his fingers
crept under my elastic I became stiffer than I'd ever been. My entire pelvis tingled as he lightly
felt around, bringing my body to a higher intensity of horniness than I’d ever reached by myself.

“Ya gettin’ harder, ain’t ya?”

“Yeah. It feels like my thing’s gonna blow up.”

“Mah thang too! We gonna make our thangs blow their top, all right.” He laughed. “We gon’ both make
our thangs blow up from wigglin’‘em. Right?”

“Yeah. Look, have you got any kleenex?”

“Better’n that. Got paper towels. Whole roll in mah suitcase. You wait a minute, hear? Don’t go
churnin’ your thang till I get back.”

Anonymous

(To be continued)

The Casual Counselor

We had a counselor at computer camp one time, that was a young army guy doing some kind of outreach to kids.

He wore fatigues at all times, but when he showered or changed, he undressed right in front of all us boys.

 It caused a lot of us to go off and have secret whispered conversations together. "Did you see the size of his balls?" "Balls, hell, his dick must be 8" long." "Do you think he - y'know? - PLAYS with it?" "Is he married?" "See if he's wearing a ring." "What if it got hard!" "Do you think it's normal, the way his skin hides the end of it?" "Turd! He's uncircumcised. Let's have a look at you and see if you're normal!"

Anonymous

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.

Who?

Johnny Draws Judgment

Guys, I have been thinking about whether to post a comment. Now that this story is no longer the lead topic, I will mention something that happened to me.

A boy that I knew at church went with me into the restroom one day. I was still sexually naïve and about 13. The other boy was close to the same age. He came right into the stall with me (there was not a urinal in the little room). It was obvious to me that he wanted to see my dick. While I pissed he stood looking straight at my penis. I began to get a hard-on and he continued looking while I flopped my stiffie around. Nobody said anything. He kept staring at my growing boner.

This was before I learned about wanking, so I wasn't "doing" anything. I had a couple of other friends that I enjoyed peter-play with, but this boy was not one of them. My dick became completely erect and the other boy stood staring at it. I thought I had found another pal who would like to to play around. So I reached over and gave the front of his pants a little touch.

I completely misjudged him. The instant I put my fingers on him he yelled "THAT'S PRIVATE!" Then he went running out of the restroom, slamming the door behind him.

 Several days later the boy's mother drew me aside and said "Johnny" had told her what I did to him. She said she wasn't going to tell my parents, but I had better leave other boys alone. This was a terrible rebuke to me, maybe the most embarrassing thing that I ever endured.

To me, this incident has an application to the story about the boy and his sleepover experiences. It says that some people have two different sets of rules, one for themselves and one for others. Johnny felt it was perfectly okay to watch me piss and stare at my erect penis, but he would not tolerate me showing interest in him.

I will also mention that as I grew older all of us kids at church learned something about this "Johnny." He was the kind of kid who would stir up a situation and get other people involved. Then he would disappear and when the mischief was discovered, the rest of us took the blame while Johnny ratted on us, always portraying himself as an innocent party or even a victim.


Anonymous

Water Park Grab Attack

When I was in high school years ago I was with a group that went to the local water park.

 Two guys caught my attention in the stream that circled all around the attractions. They were floating on big round tubes and at the same time, kind of wrestling with each other. They were younger than me. I would put them at maybe thirteen or fourteen. After I realized what was going on I kept my eyes on them, floating behind at a discreet distance.


One of the guys would lay belly-down across his tube. The other one would float over to him and launch a sneak attack. The exact form of the attack became clear to me after a minute or two. Although no one else probably figured it out. The attacker reached up through the center of the inner tube and grabbed his buddy's junk! They would yell and struggle for a while. Then the other guy would lay face-down on the tube acting cool,  but  really he was all set to be grabbed.
 
The boys alternated back and forth like that for two or three circuits of the stream. There was no mistake about it, they were good enough friends that they were happily squeezing each other's goods. Sometimes a minute or more would pass while the one on the tube allowed himself to be felt-up real good by his buddy.

It wouldn't surprise me if one or both of them reached ejaculation with all the jock jacking going down. I know I did as soon as I could!

Anonymous

Our Luscious Week-ends

Similar to Farm Boy in his Milk House story I had a friend that I used to suck off. although not in the country.

I was already driving but we were both in School, although I was a couple of years ahead. Our week-ends was the time we enjoyed most. It's like we had saved up all our energy for the week-ends. As soon as I could get over to his house to pick him up we blazed outta there heading to my house. My Mom always had plans to go out with either her friends or her Man friend. It's like we were so super horny in the car. I would unbuckle his pants and he would do a coy kind of "Oh no" in a high voice while I was reaching into his jeans to touch his cock. In seconds he was hard, and well so was I. It was crazy distracting for a teen trying to drive with a hard on and a handful of another cock. Fortunately it was only about 2 miles to my house.The temptation was incredible. I remember in winter-time to warm my hands I would shove them under his legs. The slightly taught muscles of his thighs felt warm and inviting. I couldn't wait to get my hands around them, and slide up over his round ass.

We both hurried into my room, shucking off our shirts and shoes then dropping everything on the floor in my room. I liked to slide down his pants, and undies to expose his young prize. Immediately after,  he flopped on the bed and I draped myself between his legs to devour his sweet cock.

He had just a spray of pubes above it then soft smooth skin up his flat belly. His balls still smooth too with no hairs, only bumpy taught skin surrounding those young developing balls. Our first of the week--end was always the fastest until orgasm. Since we didn't know how to 69, we took turns delivering our spunk to each other.

 Of course we headed out to grab a fast food dinner or pizza when we finished. At bed-time and in the morning it was a repeat. I suppose we would cum up to 8 or 10 each in a week-end.  Those times were amazing, I know we were lucky to have each other then. I still love Friday's, and smile when remembering our week-ends of bliss together.

Anonymous

The Bridge of Sighs

One reader has talked about people's first ejaculations. Mine happened under a bridge two blocks from the apartments where we lived. We had a one-bedroom apartment for five people. It was noisy and people were always mad and yelling at each other. I would go and hide under the bridge to be by myself.

The bridge spanned a concrete drainage canal. I would climb up the angled embankments and play (or just hide) right under the concrete roadway above.

That started in the fifth grade when we moved there. I also pissed and crapped under the bridge. Not sure how that started. Maybe I didn't want to go home to use the bathroom, or maybe it was a way of proving that the bridge was MY domain.

Sometimes I stood to piss, and watched my little puddle run down the embankment and make wet patterns on the cement. I would also try to see how far in the air I could piss before the stream hit the concrete, or how wide I could spread my pee by twisting my body back and forth while pissing. Another way I pissed, I would lay on my side on the flat top of the embankment, point my dick over the edge, and let every drop of pee flow out that I could possibly release.

That's how it got started that I would get my dick out while I was by myself in my private place.

Around the time that I was thirteen I became very aware of my erections. My dick became more than a spigot to drain my piss. It turned into a fascinating object that needed attention and "exercise" when it was stiff.

Going to my bridge took on a new dimension. I was no longer going there for a negative reason (to escape the chaos at the apartment), but I was now going there as a destination to play with my dick.

I had several ways of exercising my erection. I would wiggle it rapidly back and forth and think of it as a metronome. Sometimes I used it for a gearshift and made engine noises while shifting my hard-on. I also pretended it was the handle of a plunger which had to be pumped up and down.

One day in the spring of the eighth grade I was laying on the concrete ledge, laying on my back with my stiff dick sticking out of my zipper, giving it the usual round of exercise. Maybe I had felt the feelings of sexual urgency before, but I really think this was the first time. My entire body felt altered in some way, maybe lighter, almost like I was hovering over myself and watching myself as a separate person. At the same time that happened, I had an irresistible impulse to do the "plunger" exercise to my erection.

I started feeling totally weird - I could tell that "something" was going on with me, something that was changing the way I thought and felt, something that might be dangerous. I clearly thought to myself, "a few more times of doing the plunger, and I promise I will stop."

About that time (before I could stop) the rush of feelings hit me all over. I was masturbating my stiff dick like crazy, unable to stop and yet hating myself for continuing.

The climax was so profound that it felt like I bounced up off the ledge and then back down.

I was not expecting an ejaculation - did not even know there was such a thing. So when my spray of cum squirted up into the air and my body spasmed sexually for the very first time, I was petrified. My family was only slightly religious, and the whole topic of God and church was mysterious to me, yet at the instant that the cum sprayed out, I had a religious experience, thinking, "God, if you get me out of this, I will be in church every Sunday."

I probably laid there ten minutes without moving, waiting for my breath to slow down and thinking about what it was that I had done to myself. When I finally sat up, it turned out that most of the cum had showered down on my clothes, so my focus changed to how I could get into the house and change clothes without anybody seeing me.

I'm guessing that a month went by before I felt absolutely compelled to do the plunger exercise on my dick again. I still believed that it was dangerous, but my body had an unexplainable desire to try the experience again.  That time I took the precaution of laying on my side to keep the ejaculation from raining down on my clothes.  Gradually I became comfortable with masturbation, and then completely in love with the act. From that time on I went to my bridge not just to be by myself, but in great anticipation, looking forward to enjoying the wonderful experience of jacking off.

BK

How A Boy Chooses the Best Camp

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

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

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

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

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

Anonymous Camper

So Many Dirty Socks

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

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

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

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

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

Farm Boy

Your Turn

Our family was eating at a fast-food place along with some people that my parents knew. I was 11 or 12. The other people had a boy a year or two older than me. He seemed very cool. I felt like I was big stuff for hanging with the older dude, because I usually kept away from bigger guys. I sat next to him, ordered what he did, joked with him, really felt big.

He told his parents he was going to the restroom. Right away I said I would go with him. What I expected was a restroom with stalls and privacy. I also thought we would both go to urinals and piss. Well, it was a room without stalls. Toilet, urinal and lavatory all in the open. You could lock the outside door but there was no privacy inside.

He unfastens his pants and plops his butt down on the toilet seat. With both hands he makes a kind of tent over his junk to hide it. He just sits there for a minute. Then he kind of whispers "Hey, look." Look at what? For a split second he removes his hands. Holy shit. He has got a bunch of hair. Plus his dick is big and sticking way up. Then he hides everything with his hands again.

I felt like I had just received the most wonderful gift ever. That big boy liked me enough to let me see his peter! For all I knew, that must be a secret sign of friendship among older boys. I kept glancing toward his crotch in hopes of getting another look. Now he is rubbing his dick with one hand and halfway hiding it with the other. After a minute or so he stood up and reached down for his underwear and pants. His dick was still sticking out. He fixed his underwear around his dick. Then he said to me that it was my turn.

There was no doubt what he meant. I backed up to the toilet and dropped my pants, revealing my little weenie as I sat. I tried to hide it like the other guy had hidden his, but I didn't really want to hide it. I wanted him to see every little inch of it.

I suppose my weenie got hard. Really don't remember that part. The important thing for me was knowing that the other guy was seeing me like I saw him. Almost immediately he said "Nice." Then after a brief moment of him still staring at my peter, he said that we better get back to the table.

That was all that ever happened with that guy, but later after I found out how to jack off, I would sometimes pretend that we were looking at each other while I stroked my little stiffie.

Anonymous

YOU, Quit Calling me Sissy

 I always lived in the shadow of my big cousin Keaton. He was 5 years older than me, so there should really have been no competition between us. But he was often very hostile to me. When I was three or four, he started calling me a "sissy." Later he played football in high school and worked out to develop his muscles. He started driving at 14 by getting a "family hardship" permit. I had no interest in any of the things Keaton did, preferring to read books or play by myself.

 Keaton had a friend named Warren. On a highly memorable day my parents went off somewhere and left me at my aunt and uncle's, which meant I was the target of Keaton's insults. Keaton and Warren must have been about fifteen. They made it clear that they didn't want me around. I didn't want anything to do with them either. There was big boys stuff that was uber-important to them, and I was just a nuisance, ever in-the-way with every breath I took.

 Later, looking for a safe place to hang out, I opened the door of a shed in the back yard. My eyes bugged out. I was not certain what was going on, but I felt immediately that I had made a serious mistake and that my life was about to become more miserable than ever.

 Keaton and Warren stood facing each other in the shed, half dressed and half naked. Their pants were down around their shins, white briefs hanging near their knees. Their hands were on each other's peters, apparently rubbing or massaging their bare penises, which looked very peculiar to me. What the hell was happening?

 In the split second before they jumped apart, a jet of whitish liquid sprayed out of Warren's peter.

 Keaton began to curse me, hiding his penis with both hands. He called me a "g- d- sissy" over and over again, alternating that curse with "little bastard" and "son of a bitch." He accused me of sneaking up on them on purpose. I barreled out of the shed while the older boys reached down to grab their underwear. I have to tell you, after what I had just witnessed.  I thought I was a dead man walking.

 But there's a little more to the story. Keaton got me off alone after Warren left. "You're never going to tell what you saw, are you?" he demanded, using his most threatening, bullying voice. "Never, never, never, or I will personally beat the f-ing shit out of you!"

 "You quit calling me sissy," I answered, suddenly realizing that if I handled this right, I had the upper hand in our feud for the first time. Keaton stood glaring at me for a moment. Then he turned and stalked away in a deafening silence and tantamount fury.

 There was never a word spoken of my ill-timed intrusion, or a a retaliation breach declaring their improper touch. Keaton was still a bully to me, but I never heard the word sissy again.

Anonymous

The Boys in the Barn

This is a story from way back, how three guys broke the ice in a group pissing session.

I was in the barn when David walked in with this new guy, they were both in old farming clothes.
"This is Jerry my cousin, and he is going to be staying with us a few days. Is it ok that we spend the night with you after working?"
  "Sure you guys can stay with us."

Actually, David and I took turns helping each other on weekends with any chores that gets piled up at our families farms. Plus it was always a lot of fun having our sleep-overs

 David made the call to his Mom and handed the phone to me so I could tell her it was ok that they both stayed the night.

I looked at both boys looking eager to get the work done up. I grinned to them both and said.
 "Fellas, before we get started to milking I have to pee."
David said, "So do I."
Jerry then said, he has to piss like a race horse.

So there we three were just outside the barn, David stood on one side of me and Jerry was on the other.
I drop my cover-all jeans to the floor, and Jerry dropped his jean coveralls to the floor.
I thought to myself, 'he is not bashful at all.'
I then pulled my undies down to my knees. Both David and Jerry did the same thing.

David and I reached over and took each others peter into our hand like we always do when we both pee together.
"We like the way it feels holding each others peter while we pee." I explained to Jerry.

  He kind of nodded his head up a little, but kept his eyes on his piss stream. Confidently, I reach over and took Jerry's peter into my other hand to hold it while he pee'ed. He never moved away, I saw his tummy tighten up a bit, and one leg straightened some, but he let me hold his most private part. When the streams all slowed to drips and drops, we just let go of each others peter. Out of nowhere, Jerry asked me if he could touch my peter.
 "Yeah..... you can touch it if you like."

He reached over and felt my peter, but just as soon as he was feeling on my peter I started getting an erection. Since I didn't really know Jerry too well yet, I said,
"Listen we have to get these cows milked. Pull up your undies and jeans and lets get to milking."

As I was walking away I overheard Jerry ask David how old I was.
"He is fourteen."

Jerry said,
"He is the same age as we are?"
 I also overheard Jerry telling David that he liked the feel of my peter.

 "Don't worry there is a lot more to come tonight."

I walked away smiling.

Farm Boy 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What are you DOING up there

I remember once as a kid I was jerking off in my room and just as my climax was about to start my mom called up to me. "Frankie...Frankie!!!.......

 FRANKIE! ANSWER ME!!" 

I had no choice but to answer her, and it was right while my orgasm was in full-blown progress. "Y-y-y-esss, M-o-m..! I could hardly get the words out, and she could tell something was up.

 "What's wrong?? ??" 

I was so angry that she had ruined my terrific wank that I half thought about actually telling her what I was really doing at that very moment! 

Anonymous

Brothers in Shame or Sharing

 These stories lately about bunk beds have made me think about the special role bunk beds played in my own growing-up experience. I’ve been thinking about it for a few days and decided to try to write and submit my own story.

  My parents had three children, all boys, and I was the middle child. I grew up in an old, small three-bedroom house with one little bathroom. My brother Kevin was two years older than me, and my brother Patrick was two years younger than me. Having three bedrooms, Kevin and I each had our own rooms as little boys until my brother Patrick outgrew his crib and my parents wanted to move him out of their bedroom. So they had to decide how to split two rooms among three boys. They decided it would be best to let the two older boys, Kevin and I, share a room and let the baby have his own room right across from my parent’s, sort of like a nursery. The bedroom that Kevin and I were now going to share was way too small to fit two beds, so my parents bought us bunkbeds. Kevin and I were both thrilled and I immediately requested that I wanted the upper bunk.

  Sometime around when Kevin was probably almost 12 years old, as I think back it appears he became very modest. Whenever we needed to change in the room together, he would always stand facing a wall. He also insisted that we were way too old to bathe together, so that changed the dynamic in our tiny little one bathroom house. Kevin then got to bathe alone and I began bathing with my younger brother Patrick to save time every night. The significance of all of this is that once Kevin apparently started approaching puberty I never again saw him naked on his front-side. I also remember at that time, when Kevin was 12, that most every night in my upper bunk the whole bed would seem to gently rock and squeak a little bit, maybe for just five minutes or so, but I remember it got to be something that happened almost every night. I honestly thought nothing about it. I had no idea why the bed would do this, nor did I seem to care.

  Then one day after school, when Kevin was either 13 or almost 13, I was playing outside with a friend and I wanted to get something out of my room. I ran up the stairs and pushed my bedroom door open, and there I saw my brother lying on his bunk with his pants pulled down, his shirt pulled up, and he seemed to be doing something fast and unusual with his hand on his dick. I had burst into the room at exactly the worst possible moment because my brother was apparently within a couple seconds of hitting that “point of no return” when you have no control over the fact that you are about to ejaculate. I remember coming to a halt and staring, both shocked and confused at what I was seeing.

 First, I noticed that my brother Kevin’s dick had grown absolutely huge. His penis was obviously stiff and overall his dick looked to now be at least three times as big as mine. It now had hair around too. It also looked to me like he was squirting tiny squirts of piss onto his stomach and chest, over and over. Kevin then quickly pulled his shirt down over his wet chest and stomach and started yelling at me, “Get out! Get out!” I did as he said, now in shock at all that I had just seen. I tried asking him after that what he was doing on his bed, and his angry response to me was, “Nothing! I wasn’t doing nothing!” But that very next day Kevin demanded to our parents that because he was the oldest, he should have his own room and that Patrick and I should be the ones to share a room. My parents apparently thought he made a good case, and they asked Patrick and I if we would be okay with that. Patrick was 9 at the time and very excited that he might get the opportunity to be in the top bunk. We all agreed, and that weekend we made the big move.

  Ultimately, Patrick and I grew very close and Kevin and I grew quite distant. That was the only post-puberty time that I ever saw Kevin’s dick. As I started to grow a little older he never shared anything with me about the upcoming magic of masturbation, and obviously we never did anything like that together. When Patrick and I moved in together it quickly became apparent to me the Patrick was quite the comfortable little nudist. Unlike Kevin, I openly allowed Patrick to observe all of my developing puberty as it was happening. He was amused when I developed little hairs and was fascinated to tug on them and tell me how big my balls were getting. Sometimes I’d get stiff and he get stiff too, and we were both comfortable with that.

 

  I ended up discovering masturbation on my own, and as experienced by my older brother Kevin, I would make the bed shake every night just like he did. And when the time came, I introduced Patrick to the joys of masturbation. He had I became good jerk-off buddies as well as close brothers. We stayed together in the same bedroom until Kevin left for college and then Patrick and I had our own rooms. But whenever Kevin would come home, I gladly offered him his old room back and I would sleep in the open bunk in Patrick’s room.

 To this day, my younger brother Patrick and I are still very close and our kids all love playing together. They’re very close cousins. Kevin and I don’t dislike each other, but neither are we close. We see or talk to each other maybe two or three times a year. I think the special trust that Patrick and I shared as brothers, compared to the intimacy that was completely absent in my boyhood relationship with Kevin, set the stage for how our relationships evolved as we all became adults.

Anonymous

A Report from the Bottom Bunk

Hello all, I'd like to add my comments on the recent Bunk Bed Story

 I was a counselor to a cabin of mid-teen boys once in my early twenties. In this cabin, there was no separate bed for me, so I took a lower bunk.

 Above me was a very quiet boy. He was the type of boy who obeyed all the rules and was unlikely to participate in pranks or mischief. Lights had been off for only maybe five minutes on the first night, when this boy began jacking off. It was kind of humorous to me as I became aware of his pathetic Wankus Interruptus.
 He would get into a steady rhythm, but something would make him stop. If somebody got up and walked past our beds to go to the bathroom, he would stop. If people started whispering or giggling nearby, he would stop. Every little thing interrupted his masturbation. Sometimes he would remain still for twenty or thirty minutes (while I waited for him to continue what he started!).

 After things calmed down I would feel him starting over again. It was not really a vibration or a shaking. It was more the sensation of the mattress and springs above me moving almost imperceptibly while my own bottom bunk remained still. Maybe more of a tiny up-and-down bounce than anything else.

 We were at camp for four nights and he shot his load every night. I could tell when he began, when he paused, when he resumed, and definitely when he climaxed (he stroked faster when he was about to catch his thrill). After his cum-shot the bed above me bumped around for a moment while he apparently took care of his cum.

 Based on that experience, I feel like the top bunk is less stable than the bottom one. Therefore, in answer to the question, maybe a guy on the bottom bunk could jack off in secret if he was very careful about it, but not one in the top bunk.


Anonymous

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

Spotting that "Perfect Spcimen"

When I was a pre-teen and young teen. me and a friend would go to a local public pool a lot and we'd change into and out of our trunks in the big changing room. I remember that riding our bikes to and from the pool in wet suits felt really lousy, so it was easier to change in the public changing room.

I always rushed to get changed,  so as to get with our fun of swimming or to blast on home on our bikes to play video games. My friend seemed to never be in a hurry. He didn't mind hanging out in the change room naked for a while. He would shower off under the shower head and scrub his hair, saying it prevented his hair from turning weird colors from the pool chems. He always took longer if there were older kids or grown-ups in there changing. Since we never brought towels he would leisurely Air-Dry before putting on his dry undies and shorts.

I was too naive to realize what he was actually talking about, but he'd ask me after we changed if I had noticed "that Perfect specimen" in the locker room. Then he'd describe some guy who was in there changing with us. Indicated by the direction he was looking, it almost always a much order teen or young adult. I was clueless, but my friend really liked looking at older guy's dicks starting when we were about 12. (He turned out to be gay, BTW).

Anonymous

"Higher Ed" P.E.

We had a Physical Ed coach at school who always insisted us boys shower. When we were 9th graders we just went along with it with a chuckle as we all tried to hide our bits from each other.

As we got older and started developing we thought it was a bit odd that coach stood and watched all bits enter the shower, we had to wash! When I left school after 11th grade I bumped into an old school friend who told me our gym teacher got caught in the gym after school with a boy from my class (that stayed on for "Higher Ed") doing naughty business. Needless to say coach got sacked. I don't know what ever happened to him, but it probably was bad for him.

Anonymous

Hide the Undies

Christmas... did anybody ever get underwear for Christmas? All our extended family went to my grandparents on Christmas morning. It was a big family-style breakfast and then we all opened our gifts, one at a time. As long as I could remember there was a tradition that everybody had to show off what they received. One of my younger cousins, that was about 9 or 10, he tried to hide one of his presents.


The rest of us kids (particularly a couple of rough older troublemakers) all made a big deal of it. Somebody wrestled the present away from him and held it up for everybody to see. It was a package of plain white briefs. One of the big guys said "Peter Heaters!" The kid ran out of the room. By the following year it was no longer a rule to show off everything you got.

It was my good fortune to become familiar with what lay inside his briefs after we reached wanking age.

Scotty

Let the Goo Go

A couple of recent posts bring up the topic of wanking a load into undies.

 So maybe I was weak in character or something, but I did it inside my Hanes briefs. I remember when first becoming proficient at draining my dragon, it was a special thrill to trigger a climax without people realizing it. I agree, it was gooey and nasty and all those things. But I guess I felt like that was just the penalty I paid for enjoying a secret blast.

One time I made a cumshot with my hand in my pocket while I was waiting in line to buy a movie ticket. Then fired another load during the movie by rubbing my knuckles along the outside of my pants. That phase didn't last long but it was a major thing with me whenever I would get hard during the first few months of wanking. I was kind of proud of being able to hide what I was doing and do it quick: Wiggle, wiggle, SPLOIT! Hee-hee!

Anonymous

Stiff and Stuff (all in the Suit)

I want to tell about a guy I knew when we were 13. He was into wrestling, I was into wrestling suits. When we played at his house, sometimes he put on his wrestling suit. He didn't bother putting on a jock or underwear. The best part, you could see exactly where his dick was in that wrestling suit.

We messed around sometimes and he accidentally would bump me with his dick. He did it a few times and I got to thinking if maybe his dick was hard, because it kind of looked like it.

So one day he was laying on the floor and I am looking at him real careful. I can see just where his dick is. I reached over across him to pick up the game controller. I actually let my arm bump his dick only for a second. He starts moving it around, and ever so often he makes his dick bump into me.
Then he goes, "Can I ask you a question?"

 I say,  "What".

He says, "Have you got hair around your thing?"

I go, "Why, do you?"

 Before long he wants me to see his hair. He tells me,
 "Lift up the leg of my suit. You can look but only at the hair."

While I try an look at his hair he goes to mashing on his dick. It's real easy to see it in the wrestling suit. I ask him something stupid like is everything okay in there. He tells me to check it if I want to. I feel him but still with the suit on. Well we both got hard dicks. We go to rubbing the other guy. He says better stop or it will shoot. We stopped doing it but we both got bad hard-ons.

He lets me rub him some inside the wrestling suit. His dick's so hard but he's keeping it inside the suit. He says he going to cum. I ask do you want me to stop. He says f... that. Well, then he cums inside his wrestling suit because of me rubbing it and the stuff makes his suit all wet.

It is a a few more under-clothing sessions of feel-up before we finally got a good look at each others dicks. He always got real hard in that wrestling suit.

Anonymous Wrestling Fan

A Family Legacy

  I was 11 when a friend told me about jerking off. After a few weeks I had figured out that for me the most pleasurable way to do it was to rub my skinned-back stiffie against the bedsheet. So just about every night I would climb into bed, rub one out against the sheet, and fall asleep.

  Eventually, of course, I started to ejaculate, which caused me some concern until I realized that because I was completely responsible for stripping, washing, storing and replacing my own bedclothes, nobody would ever see the stains. So for several years I carelessly soaked the sheets.

  Fast-forward twenty years or so. My daughter has outgrown her crib, and my parents are giving us my old furniture. My wife and I are in my old bedroom - I am emptying the chest of drawers while she strips the bed. Suddenly she taps me on the shoulder, makes a face and points at the mattress. It is covered with brown stains that merge toward the center into one almost black discolored mass. I lift my eyebrows ans shrug my shoulders to convey the impression that I certainly have no idea what my parents did to make such a foul-looking mess.

  Later, as we are loading the rented truck, my wife thanks my parents again for the furniture, but says that we won't be taking the mattress. For a moment I am worried that my mother - for whom the word "ditzy" was invented - will blurt out something like "But why? It's only your husband's stains!" But all she says is, "Yes, that mattress is really old, you should get a new one for your little one.

Anonymous

Bopping in the Bushes

Did anybody else go to a lot of trouble to hide their cum? To me, the cum was the evidence of playing with my dick. If I could keep anybody from discovering my cum they would never know that I liked to do a certain nasty thing. Which was to zip my hand up and down on my dick a lot until the freakin feelings made me feel funny all over.

We lived in apartments. One place we lived, a big garden of bushes and small trees was planted in a corner where the laundry building and the office came together. I would go behind the bushes to jack off. It was very safe. Nobody could see that I was in there unless they crawled in themselves.

When I wanted to jack my little stiffie (this was the years I was about 12-1/2 to 14-1/2) I got a stick and dug a hole in the ground. I knelt over the hole while doing that secret fun thing to my dick. When it was time to cum I aimed the cumshots into the hole. My cum stayed white-looking laying in the dirt so I used the stick to mix it up into mud. Then I raked loose dirt over the hole. I would stand up and while zipping my pants I stomped the dirt down where my cum was buried. That way nobody would ever find my stuff.

I don't know how many times I did that. Maybe 3 or 4 times a week for a couple years. I bet 300 squirts of cum (maybe more) got buried behind those bushes.

 Anonymous

Just a Little Tickle Powder

There was a friend of mine that lived on the same block. When we were little, around 7 and 8, we made up a game where we pretended we were babies. This got started because my friend had a baby brother at his house. In our game we had to change the other guy's diaper. This was just a way to get each other's pants down and look at our little peters.

We got started using baby powder on our junk. The feeling of the powder sprinkling onto our crotches is hard to explain, kind of like tickling, but like a whole different feeling came over our peters and balls. I have been trying to remember whether we got stiffies at that young age. I think we did. We kept on doing the diaper thing as we got older.

I know that we definitely were having boners by 12 when we were in seventh grade because part of the fun was watching our peters get hard while sprinkling powder on each other. A lot of times, we had already got hard before starting the game. If that happened we shook the powder on each other's boner. Neither one of us had any idea what the purpose of an erection was. We just got hard together and then played with our dicks.

It was after a diaper/powder game at 13 that I shot my first wad. My stiffie wouldn't go down. After my friend left I went and sat in the bathroom. I wiggled my dick like hell, wishing it would get soft and leave me alone. While I was wiggling, I went funky all over. I caught a climax. A spray of stuff went onto my legs and hand. I was kind of in shock, sitting there trying to get my head together. Then I saw more of the stuff running down the shower curtain. I was scared to death. I didn't have a clue what had happened.

I played with my thing a few times by myself. It took weeks to feel okay about doing it. Then I showed my friend. That was the start of us jacking off. We liked to get our good feelings together and try to shoot at exactly the same time. We still sometimes sprinkled powder to help our dicks get real hard.

Anonymous

A Taste at the Milk house

This is a new contribution following the story The Beginning of a Very Special Relationship

I was in the milk house ordering out supply's when Mom called out from the back door of the house. She said "Toby called and asked if he could come up." "I told him you were in the Milk House, and to come on over, we're having Fried Chicken for lunch."
 
I smiled knowing secretly he was probably ready for a wank or something, and was bored by himself. I told her thanks, and I could use his help with the chores and mowing later. With that "smoke screen" of us working together, it assured that she would not bother us in the barn. I hurried with the last few items, strawing the pens, and filling the water troughs.

When Toby walked into the milk house I notice he had a bulge in his cut offs. I felt a tingle in my own pants and instructed him, "Set your ass down by me." "You have a boner."
He reached over, "So do you, Mr Peter Inspector!" We both laughed.
I asked him if he wanted me to suck on it?
"Well, only if I can suck on your dick." He replied.
We both stood up and took off our jeans and underwear.
"Get up here on this box, so I can suck on your dick while I stand here in front of you."
He stood on top of the box. He was pale from his thighs on up to where his cut-offs gave way top his belly. But every place else was tan from the summer sun like a any country boy's body. I laid my head softly against the ripple rows of his muscled lower abdomen. The slid my hand round his back and rested on his firm bum cheeks.
 
I took his boner in one gulp right down to the base. I was in charge so that meant feeling his balls all the while I was sucking on his dick. Some of the guys I had known before really didn't like anyone playing with their balls. I reckon they had been racked too many times and didn't trust nobody. Toby was not like that at all. He let me touch him any place on his body that I ever wanted. I stroked the area under his balls as I sucked him. His balls tightened up and were shaped like half an onion bulb. It didn't take him long before he was yelling out,  "I'm ready to blow my stuff."

I sucked his dick deep into my throat and held his dick there while he filled my throat full of his sweet stuff.
He gasped a bit then kind of whispered,  it was my turn to get sucked. I was boned up and ready after the thrill of his ejaculation. He took all of my dick in one gulp. As soon a he started to play with my balls I was ready to shoot my stuff. I held his head and yelled out, I'm going to fill your tummy full of my stuff.
He swallowed every bit of my cum.

We both pulled up our undies and cutoffs and sat back down. He looked at me and asked me where I leaned how to suck dick so good.
"I got lots of practice." "I was sucking dicks with my cousins when I lived at my grandparents other Farm".

 He says, "Oh, I see.... I wished my cousins had lived near me."

I snickered and continued my tale,  "Well, I was also sucking dicks when I went to the one room school house." "The bathroom was outside so I never had to worry about getting caught sucking on other boys dick."

"Dern, No wonder you are so good at sucking."

I smiled and rubbed  the back of his head...."You are good at sucking dick also."
I put up the shovel and tools away and we left for the field to mow down hay and maybe have some more fun after lunch.

Farm Boy

Adventures on the Moon - Discovery Missions

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

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

I was a young teenager in the early 1970’s, and in many ways I think it was a much better time to be a kid than it is today. With only three television stations and no Internet, social media, or video games, there wasn’t all that much to do inside the house. Consequently, during the summer we spent almost all of our time outside having fun with our friends. It was also a much more trusting time. We didn’t worry that every stranger might be a pervert waiting for an opportunity to molest us, and our parents didn’t worry that we might be kidnapped or shot if we try to leave the yard.

Particularly for us boys, our bicycles were our one true freedom. There were many days where with one friend or a group of friends we would leave the neighborhood on our bikes at 9 AM and not return home until supper time. We had our bikes equipped with wire metal baskets that hung down on both sides of the rear wheel. We would load these baskets with needed supplies for our explorations, and I always took along a detailed map and my Boy Scout compass which both came in handy more times than I would like to admit. On top of the baskets we could strap a cooler with sandwiches and cans of pop chilled in ice.

With that background, I thought I would share with your readers one of the very special and exciting areas my best friend and I used to go to on our summertime day-long biking explorations.

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

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

I miss those exciting boyhood journeys, and I don’t think boys of today are doing much of anything as exciting as we were, back so long ago. It was as if we were space pioneers on a journey that no one had ever dared to explore, especially nude like us. Everyone knew Astronauts wore special suits, and here we went boldly going as "No boy" had gone before.... in just the suit we were born in.

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

Thanks if it gets posted.
Ziggy

What are Friends For

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anonymous

The Feather Feelies

Sudden memory from my childhood:

 I was fortunate to have a very good friend at the years of about 10 to 12. He had a big plastic above-ground swimming pool in his back yard. If his mother was home, we wore bathing suits to swim. But if she was gone and only his dad was watching us, we would ask him if we could skinny-dip. He would let us do it as long as nobody else was around.

So we got used to seeing each other naked. After we skinny-dipped we would sometimes stay bare for a while in his room, playing and talking and also feeling our tight little balls but not messing around with each other.

One day we're in his room after swimming bare, he showed me a huge feather he had bought at an amusement park. He laid on his bed and then started to tickle his crotch with the feather. He said it feels real funny and gives him goose-bumps "down there." I had to try it too, and right away we both had stiffies, only we just didn't know what to do with them.

That was my first initiation to making my balls and peter feel good. We began "trading places" as we called it, meaning one of us would use the feather to tickle the other guy's junk. After a few minutes of arousing each other's little peters with the feather we would compare our stiffies and give each other a bunch of squeezes and snicker about what we were doing. But we had no idea that there might be another way to play with our dicks, so after a few minutes we got dressed and found other things to do.

I think if we'd had just one more summer together, then we would have learned how to "really" make ourselves feel good. But my parents divorced and I had to move away before my friend and I made the big leap.

When I think about our tickling feather arousing my immature dick, I get a little tingle in my private parts even now.

Anonymous

Special Fluid

Like the writer of the Year Long Wait , when I was age 12, I also enjoyed my time sitting on the toilet admiring and touching my erection.

This is when and how I discovered my pre-cum. I'd play with it and squeeze the head, and it just felt so nice. After a couple of minutes a few drops of a special clear slippery fluid would ooze out. I never gave a thought to wrapping my fingers around my shaft and rubbing it up and down. But this odd an slippery fluid was so handy to smear all around my penis head.

 At age 12 this was as far as my dick playtime went. I was so naive. Rubbing that slippery fluid all over my penis head felt so nice, it seemed that the production of this heaven-sent fluid lasted entirely too short. Things dried up before I encountered the most special feelings ever, so I never took it any further (until I turned 13, and that amazing event happened).

Anonymous

Tag You're it

There is a crazy little happening that I keep remembering. Standing at a pisser in school, side by side with another boy. And seeing him wiggle his dick which I knew, was nasty to watch. He reached over and squeezed my dick and said,
"Tag you're it!"

 Nothing like that ever happened to me before. He was still standing next to me. In a challenge he said,
"Go ahead and get me."

So then quickly,  I squeezed his dick. Right away we were both touching the other guy's dick. Pulling and extending them out of our undies. He wanted to know if it felt good. "Well Yeah!!"

I had to be in seventh grade by then but didn't know about stuff like that yet. He totally shocked me but I kept feeling him while I had the chance. It was my very first time for anything like that.
Anonymous

Fit for Pleasure

My folks raised me a nice church boy. By the time of about sixth grade my little dickie stuck out lots of times. My little peter got hard all the time. Anyway, like any boy I had to play with it.

So here's my story- 
One Sunday I was sitting in church. I was bored, but trying to keep quiet. I noticed these tiny wood  shelves with holes in them. They were screwed to the book rack on the bench in front of me. The holes were where you put your little cup after communion. All the holes had rubber inserts in them so the cups would not make noise when people put them in the holes. Maybe like a grommet. It was easy to play with the rubber pieces ( kind of like big rubber bushings). In a minute one of them came out in my hand.

 When we got home the rubber ring was still in my pocket. I imagined a secret plan, to see if my dickie could go into the rubber ring. At first it would not fit. My little peter was real hard. So naturally I worked on fitting it. Twisting the rubber in a circle. The head of my dick was in the hole crowning through, but not fully on.. I am all twisting it back and forth making it go down some more.

Then crazy feelings start happening. The rubber ring is stuck by now, just below my dick head. I keep twisting. Guess what guys, I feel awful gross all over. Then the stuff fires into my hands. "Oh shit!" This stuff was menacing. It took a while to clean up. The troublesome rubber thing, I put it away in a hurry.

One day I wanted to do it again. I got out the rubber bushing. I twisted that thing around on my dick. I did not know if it would happen again. However with a little coaxing for the fit, then it made cum again. The rubber wonder toy made me cum some more times. After while I started doing it with my fingers. I did not use the rubber thing anymore.

Anonymous

The Body Tingle

Do you guys remember what its like for your foot to tingle all over. We said our foot had went to sleep if we cut off the blood circulation on accident. That is how I felt all over, my whole body when my first climax was about to happen. Yes I was pumping my dick but no, had not a clue what I was doing. It was like getting fever and at the same time vision became dim and sort of seeing double and your head and body and legs get this enormous going-to-sleep prickly feeling and your breathing funny. I am dying. This is what it feels like to die. Then the climax came and also the cum spews out! Staring at cum on the shower curtain and heart pounding. What just happened? Is that death? Did I change into an angel or something!

Anonymous

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.

Anonymous

A Discovery of Self (Pleasure?): Part Zero

We bring to you a new Author and his first story. He has supplied a Preface (linked below) with some of his early history supporting the story. I invite you to welcome and enjoy the initial work by Author Rory Graxham.
Eric  

Author's Preface -

Story Begins:

  From a very young age, while there's no question that I realised my willie (penis, Johnson, pecker, prick, phallus, sausage) could be the source of both intense pain and pleasure, it took me a surprisingly long time to figure out exactly how it really worked. It didn't help that such educations weren't encouraged, or that any displays of these pursuits, accidental or otherwise, of said self-enlightenment were met by tortuously harsh interdictions often so euphemised as to render them unintelligible even to fully trained lawyers.

  It wasn't that I couldn't get a rise out of it, but more an inability to skillfully enhance, induce, or suppress its responses as the case may be. The first time I noticed it had to do with another person rather than merely friction or having an overly full bladder was when I became best friends with a small boy from Taiwan who was in my classroom.

  We were in the third grade (8 years old), and both excelled in mathematics and were obsessed with learning as much as we could. NASA's Apollo project was still ongoing and there was an intensely optimistic feeling about what science could help us understand about the Universe.

  I was a tall and strong boy for my age having won of bit of a genetic lottery via my Eastern European grandparents, easily eclipsing many of those a year older than I. Lee was small for his age, like many Asians, and very softly spoken and reserved.

  When I think back on the genesis of our friendship, it was inevitable. I was the biggest kid in the class, but just as shy and introverted as he. We lived in the same apartment "supercomplex" (two large brick complexes of four duplex apartments each), so we spent quite a bit of time together outside of school as well.

  I didn't have too many friends my age, though I wasn't completely devoid of them. It was just unusual to find other boys who didn't care about sports and preferred "internal" things, or books, or things like science or math to tinker with.

  So while we spent most of time outdoors during the good months, during late fall through early spring we spent a great deal of time indoors, mainly in his basement. His basement was less cluttered and had much better light than mine, and his family put very little in theirs, and so it was like a large open space that was large enough to play around pretty well.

  Sometimes we'd read together, sometimes just talk, but often we imagined various games that involved our imagining we were in various fantastical situations. Star Trek was in re-runs, and that provided not a little grist for our "fantasies".

 Our various "adventures" involved figuring out clues, or trying to avert some imagined disaster or threat, etc. One recurring element to our physical play was a kind of bondage and submission role playing, often literally with ropes and even a bicycle chain once or twice. It was he who role played the larger/more powerful role always.

  And while I'd make very credible attempts to escape, a part of me took great care to avoid exceeding that role. I was so much bigger and stronger than he was, I could pick him off the ground with one arm. I sometimes carried him on my shoulders when we walked through the backyard and small wooded areas around our apartments.

  Almost always, these "bondage" scenes involved a great deal of bodily contact and various phases where he would straddle or otherwise grasp me while I was on my back "helpless". The climax of these would sometimes involve him "sparing" me in a last moment of "mercy", and an intensely sparkling tingle flashed down my body from chest to groin. I would spontaneously imagine all very elaborate ways he'd "destroy" me, and it never failed to give me a raging stiffie.

  We would often rest a bit, still on top of me, usually half sprawled with our faces near each other. I could feel his small stiffie, though I don't think he could feel mine since I was so much taller than he was. I'm not sure how long we'd stay like that, but it seemed to be a while.

 Even though we were both the respective "elders" in our families - we each had younger sisters - there was a feeling of fraternal love between us. He was as much drawn to my size and strength as I was to his small and seemingly younger appearance, even though we were both shy and quiet bookworms who just wanted to be left alone with our experiments. Or perhaps both of our wishes that the other was the brother we didn't have. When I think back on it, I was surprised nobody made sport of how close we were physically. I'd spent many afternoons reading with him laying on top of me with his head on a tiny pillow on my chest, while he also read. His parents never seemed fazed by it. If my mother had concerns, she never ventilated them.

  Alas, neither of us knew enough or had the nerve to make overt advances towards the other, but afterwards, I'd masturbate over re-enacted imaginings of what we did many times. Sometimes, he'd say he had to go to the bathroom after a "scene", and while he was upstairs, I'd quickly masturbate keeping one eye on the door at the top of the stairs leading to the ground floor. I wish I could say it was something special, but at the time, it felt like a race... could I finish before he came back? Because nothing scared me more than any thought of him, walking in on me.

  One nice thing about pre-pubescence is that masturbation is relatively clean. After horsing around with Lee, I almost never needed longer than 2-3 minutes before my body would tense and clench with pleasure while my little cock strutted and twitched madly, often making clicking sounds as the peristalsis waves opened and closed a (relatively) dry tube.

  Tragic. I imagined at the time he was doing the same in the solitude of the bathroom during at least some of those times, but it is to my shame (now) that I felt safe to have hidden this part of himself from him.

  We had only a year together before he moved away to another part of town. I did manage to visit him a few times, but the visits were too brief, and the lack of spontaneity made the older kind of play almost impossible.

  Less than a year later, his family moved out of state, and I'd never seen him again, though I often think of the inchoate tenderness we each brought out in each other, even as we were boys being boys. I don't think Lee was (or is) gay, and there wasn't anything necessarily soft or effete about him as a boy. He was just small and unathletic, with a heart as gentle and open as his mind.

Rory Graxham

[To be continued...]