My family had a tradition of Sunday afternoon naps when I was growing up. We went to church and then to the cafeteria for lunch. By the time we got home it was around 2:00 and everybody went to bed for a couple of hours.
I did not know about puberty - was certainly aware that I would grow into an adult, but ignorant of what would actually happen to me. Around the age of 12 I began to be bothered by erections. I found it hard to nap on Sundays because my peter picked that time to get hard and remain stiff. Part of the problem was my fault because I kept messing with myself, but the boners happened even if I didn't play with my erection.
On one of those Sunday afternoons I laid on top of my covers wearing nothing but a pair of white briefs. The pee slot was spread open to allow my hard-on to protrude. On this particular Sunday I was strangely focused on my body. Not just my stiff dick, but all of me. In addition to wiggling my boner, I tickled my chest and thighs. I became harder. I could not keep my hands off of my pulsing dick. Inevitably the ejaculatory sensations hit me and I became frightened. Something scary was happening. Some strange force required me to keep playing with my dick. I was now swinging my erection back and forth, rapidly pointing it toward my feet and then toward my head and back again.
The feelings kept happening. There was a strange moment when I felt like I was looking down on myself from the ceiling. I could see myself and my hard dick from above. Then an awful spasm hit my body and a fountain of unknown liquid sprayed into the air and rained down on me.
What in the world had I done to myself? For the first few months of my discovery I only jacked off on Sunday afternoons, careful to catch my cum in paper towels. But then I ran into a boy in a school restroom, and we ..... but that's another story!
Anonymous
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