A lifetime of combat with church's masturbation teaching
As the eldest in a family of 3 boys, I was privileged to have a bedroom to myself at an early age. It was about my fourth grade year--age 9--I remember, that I began to notice strange but "nice" feelings in my penis when I touched it, and it began also to get hard. Of course, as a parochial school student in the '40s, I knew that it would be a deadly sin to touch myself, but I didn't know why.
One night the pleasure was very strong, and I found I could intensify it by pressing my legs together with my balls between them so that my erection would strain up against itself. I knew this was wrong, but couldn't help myself--I HAD to keep doing it and relaxing, doing it and relaxing. All the time I wanted to be saved for Christ, so I began to pray to the Virgin Mary to protect me and keep me pure and clean. But I had to keep straining against my penis because the feeling was so good. After a while, the inevitable happened, my penis seemed to burst open and I felt like I was swimming in feelings and sensations that started out in my penis and scrotum and washed through my body.
Of course, I felt dirty, filthy and lost. The fact that the Virgin Mary didn't help me should have told me she doesn't think jerking off is any big deal, but I was only 9 and was terrorized by my nuns and priests and parents. So, for many years I continued to jerk off, became a hypocrite in my spiritual life, a lonely outcast in my social life, and pretty much a sick puppy. Now, at 62, I've decided to come out of the masturbation closet, since I've learned that my wife probably would rather I jerk off than bother her.
If this is at all interesting, please email me ([removed]), maybe we can talk more, and if circumstances are right, get together in either the Mrecer county NJ area, or in the Hancock (excuse me, that's no pun) NY area. Thanks
A later addition...
You posted my note some time ago under the title "A lifetime combating Church's dogma" or something similar. Here is a more recent experience, one that both embarrassed and titillated me.
We have a second home, in the area of Pa. known as The Endless Mountains Region, just across the state line from New York. It's on a hill in a sparsely populated spot, though there are a few year-round residents. I go up there when I want to get out from under things, like life in New Jersey. Mostly it's too rugged for my wife to enjoy, so I go alone for a few days at a time.
I took the new camcorder with me because there's an awful lot of wildlife roaming our acreage I thought I might videotape, including a huge buck, a flock of about 50 or 60 turkeys, and foxes, etc, even a coyote. But my lower nature took over.
I stripped off, set the camera on its tripod and went to work recording a jerk-off session. About half way through--I was feeling right good!--there was a loud noise on the deck--which is about 9 feet above the ground, and about 35-40 feet above the road. Anyway, I was so far into what I was doing that to investigate, I simply walked to the door still stroking my dick, and threw it open. The woman from across the road asked if I could give her a ride into town because her husband had taken the keys. A blow to my ego?
Sure--there I was stroking a big red throbbing hardon, and she asked if I would drive her into town! When she saw the camcorder setup, she said she'd wait for me by the road. The upshot is that I didn't have an upshot, not right then, at any rate. I drove her into town, trying to explain all the way--that itself was a turnon since I love to talk about it as well fantasize about being watched and watching. She, it turns out, was sneaking out to get some booze from the guy she eventually left her husband for. (Hubby wouldn't let her drink herself to death; boy allows it, so long as he has a steady piece. Enough moralizing.)