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A Lifetime of Masturbation Pleasure

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A Lifetime of Masturbation Pleasure
The first time I achieved orgasm I was 11, but I knew about erections and had been "coached" on what was coming (not cumming) by my mother who called the sexual nature "soft." She also called something "the tender trap!" She had given me "Growing Up" at ten then was very embarrassed to answer my "why" or "how?" questions about two people "Lying together." At eight I had discovered the wonderful feeling in my groin I got from shinnying up the swing poles at recess. I would run to the poles and hang there all recess and not take a swing. I didn't know my tiny wiener was hard but I did know that a closely related feeling in my mouth was as delicious the "pain" I HAD to have in my pants. This activity in 3rd grade made me a "queer duck" to all the normal kids.
It was not till the summer of '43 that a group of us neighborhood boys between 6th grade (grade school) and 7th grade (junior high school) saw the penis and the act of masturbation in the chicken coop behind the house. My cousin (13 the at time) had already grown hair around his BIG penis which was hard. He said he had not had intercourse with a real girl yet but he had found this substitute. He proceeded to show us four a full-fisted process we all thought had caused his penis to grow. Meanwhile he told of doing it in front of his mother (my aunt) who was watching in a hail storm under the tin roof of a house just down the street. My mother didn't trust her nephew out of her sight; so, called me and interrupted my cousin's demonstration. I went into the house and my cousin went home as I was hearing my aunt tell her sister what she had seen in that "hail storm we had the other day."
Apparently my aunt was as impressed with the size of the penis as I had been. They talked very low and compared sizes with their husbands' then my Mom asked what she said to my cousin when he "ejaculated." "I just said, don't you have better things to do with your time?" And My mother inquired what he said. "I think he asked if I was going to tell Dad."
"And . . ." my mother inquired also. "I haven't yet. I've used the experience . . . if you know what I mean.?" I didn't know what she meant from my hiding place nor till later when I saw my mother masturbating. My aunt had to go home to keep my cousin from f++++ing something, but I remember the comparisons with men's penises these two women were familiar with and how my aunt made my mother in awe of what I saw.
I went to bed that night at age eleven with the full intent of making mine as big as my cousin's I didn't know if growing hair would happen if I did what he showed us, but I wiggled the tiny wiener between my thumb and forefinger. Pretty soon I got those feelings in my groin and mouth that I had enjoyed in 3rd grade; so, I concluded they were sexual because of where I was rubbing. My knees made a tent and I even had a flashlight to see if it were growing. The naughtiness set in with the feelings; so, I backed off only to resume the activity. I just "needed" to know what came next. Things DID get better and my little wiener stayed erect longer than I ever remember. Five stops of the activity were out of fear and thinking about the extreme naughtiness. There was an oozing caused by the Cowpers glands which helped with lubrication but that poor little penis DID get raw and I ignored that except it didn't grow (that I could see). On the sixth trial after five stops there was a growing cone of feeling from behind me that just grew on its own and shot me into ecstatic pulsating flight off a cliff I had not expected and I soared on figurative wings of the most gorgeous feeling I HAD to experience again! I did experience that predictable, but almost elusive feeling again - and again - and again till light dawned and my persistent tool for finding it stood up for more but had not grown and was a bloody mess.
The boys in the neighborhood had discovered it too and were agog as they called for me at my back door. They called it "that feeling." which I resented as too tame. We immediately went to a neighbor's basement and did the deed in an open circle we were to emulate many times more as semen was to happen and even "Hairs" That underline there began to be a code word for our progress we would mention on the school bus when school resumed and we had to go a long ways to Jr. High.
I got an education and ostracism from my Mom who observed my new furtive nature and need to "hide." She checked with my aunt asking if this were my cousin's behavior and then called our pediatrician. I was taken downtown that summer (almost immediately) for what was called "a pre-puberty" exam. I began to tell Mom what I had found but she asked me not to till after the pediatrician had looked beyond my undershorts. Well he did and I saw him in consultation with my mother who relayed that he had said "worst case I have ever seen!" Mother was crestfallen and changed her attitude t'ward me. As I resumed the telling of what I was going to tell her, she said, "I know all about what you've found. but I'm not going to talk about it!" I tried to send her notes promising to quit, but at the second one she was very haughty and just said, "As if you could!" I know she told my dad because he took on a surprised "how young?" attitude but didn't resent me falling into "that tender trap" the way Mom did.
I resumed the circle jerk with the guys who were my remaining best friends. They wanted me to make up fantasies to masturbate to. I guess the one about girls and gear shift knobs was their favorite. (Most cars had three on the floor in '43.) None of us had any ejaculate at first. Six weeks was about the time it took to see any oozing then there was no doubt about who was first to finish. Some hairs grew on the oldest guy before we went back to school on the school bus. There was interest (knowing interest) in the girls as we put a hissing "S" on the word "hair" that had no other connotation in the bus conversations.
In Junior High in Science Class there came a day when the teacher was absent and there was no substitute. The principal asked us to use the time as "a study hall" and left to do other things. One precocious girl (I'll call) Bessie and I talked about what we were thinking about that made us smile or laugh. I admitted that the blossoming of girls' bosoms caused me to feel funny, but nobody could "see" my reaction. Bessie said that some boys - especially ninth-graders do show their reaction. I asked if girls DO look down there. Bessie said, "sure, and we do put Kleenex in our bras to look better." That made me laugh, saying "you don't look with those!" This opened up a Q&A session between sexes about the myths we had heard. We had a show of hands who had had an "orgasm." Finally nearly all the boys hands went up AFTER Bessie told the class about them. Only 1/3 of the girls admitted to having had them. Bessie told the others they were missing something really special. Bessie was interested in the age at finding those and I volunteered "3rd Grade" then explained "they weren't really over the top experiences but good feelings I had while shinnying up swing poles." Bessie admitting having "real experiences" as long as she could remember. I asked how. She said she had worn out two Teddy bears but now had graduated to water spray in the bathtub. I dared to ask if girls are more early in hair growth than boys "down there." It wasn't known; so boys were asked when they were first observed. A show of hands (Mostly Heads Down) started at ten but some boys didn't know what we were talking about. "- Oh there -" saw the light as we explained and they remembered seeing an adult. Bessie admitted to ten but most girls didn't participate. She said that "judging from the showers in girls' gym most have a pretty good bush by now." I admitted to our joke with the hissing "S;" so girls must be more advanced sexually than boys. Then there was the discussion (mostly heads down) of who had "become a woman already." We boys were interested but promptly forgot who had "gotten" her period and who didn't answer.
Our gym teacher explained that masturbation is "perfectly normal." He wanted to know what we had heard. He dispelled the myth that you'd grow hair on your palms and that you go blind or insane. I was particularly pleased to learn that continually doing IT would not decrease your chances of having children. I had tried to decrease my frequency because of a myth I made up worried about that.
As we got to be teenagers we were still jerking in a circle about the drain grating in a neighbor's basement. Aim and distance at the end became (other) primary motives. Some got very good at putting more than one spurt of semen right on the grating from about three feet with a little move up. I was standing at the south with my pants down and my (somewhat enlarged) penis erect when I spotted the red hair of the guy-on-my-left's big sister who was somehow home from work on a Saturday. She knew I saw her but she wanted (at least) to get something on her little brother; so, she held her finger to her lips and kept looking over the shelf of the "shelf" basement. I felt it was taking me into her confidence and I felt honored. I never told the guys but my penis did wither and I dropped out of the competition which went to its completion. Her brother WAS the most accurate and from the greatest distance with three expectorations. I just covered what withered and pretended to wiggle my (non-existent) wiener. She disappeared after that but I has never taken me into her confidence. She never called me into "Post Office" for "stamps - kisses or packages - hugs" even! I still feel very close to her even though she is in her seventies. It did grow and I did grow hair into more than individual notorieties to be noted with a hissing "S"
I did see my mother masturbating and understood why she felt so vulnerable talking to me about sex. I heard my parents having intercourse once when Dad came home from one of his traveling salesman's trips in the afternoon before I got to greet him. They were very fond of what they were doing and were very solicitous of whether the other were "c++++ing" or not. Needless to say I masturbated there over the "monkey stove" I was stoking to make hot water for the household. I think I stumbled and they heard me below them.
I barged in on mother in the bath after I had seen her masturbating by looking (like a voyeur) into her bedroom window from the roof. I asked to be enlightened as to what the other gender looks like. She covered up and told me I "know enough" then preceded to remind me I had discovered the "tender trap" at age eleven and was still masturbating as far as she knew. I asked what gave her that indication. She told me that once anybody "Finds Them" they will always pursue them. I agreed I still did it many times a day. She said that Dad had gone to a prostitute at age 16 but that she doubted that would be a source for me. That conversation and knowledge that she rubs that brown hair patch with the same ferocity that I work my wiener back and forth for the universal result we all get was a great relief in my being on an understanding footing with my Mom.
My sisters were coming along into puberty and I used the same roof to see one of them undress. I later scratched some shellac off the bathroom window to see more of that one's pubic hair and budding breasts. I let my shadow be seen and then traded places with sis.
I had an enormous erection and she told me, "I saw you!" She not only saw me she saw the act of male masturbation and became highly aroused. Nothing more came of my looking in on my sisters, but I "used" the stubbly sight of the older naked to masturbate many times. I hope she "used" the sight of me likewise.
As I went to college I became sexually active (at least with one) and my mother didn't approve of me again. I was a bad example for my little sisters and brother by staying home from church with my girlfriend while everybody went to church. I still masturbated except when I was saving up for the girlfriend. She was very shy about admitting she had "had a life" with other men and wouldn't let me see her genitals. I was apparently to fast a f+++ and she tried to hand me off to her older sister who "Can slow you down!" I was in love and that ploy did not work. I was heartbroken when she (the younger) found another (slower) guy.
Needless to say, I did find the right girl (virgin) to have children with. We waited, though she threatened me with a breach-of-promise suit before we were married. I learned she could masturbate to orgasm but I could not bring her during intercourse. I bought her vibrators she would use when she thought I was asleep and I would peek in the window and watch her by the light of the TV. We got to playing a game of cat-and-mouse with the way she coiled up the cord of one vibrator. I knew if she had "used" it and made things out of her denying me sex until I "needed" it. Of course, my hand and some of her hand lotion were handy. She noted with pleasure "how fast" that supply of lubricant diminished. I guess I gave her pleasure by giving her those vibrators and the knowledge that she really wasn't depriving me. I was having "enough fun" as my mother had characterized my habit with my hand. Even in marriage with intercourse in a real vagina "once a week" I guess I averaged four or five orgasms per week for twenty-two years and even more after we were divorced. I got a new lubricant (baby lotion) and my landlady got to noting how I used that up about every three weeks. She asked me one time if she could pick anything up at the store. ("Say, Baby Lotion?") I didn't reply but I knew she knew. Her daughter was heard to ask her mother about me when on a visit one time. "What does he do with baby lotion?" She had apparently seen my purchase in the check-out line. There was a long pause then giggling. So my landlady and her daughter knew that I masturbated. I didn't mind. I didn't change lubricant or the openness with which I would take it through the daughter's check-out line. I suspect they do it too. I did like the routine and privacy I had in that rented room with kitchen privileges It was alright if I left the door open and heard the TV or closed the door and masturbated two or three times before I went to bed. The landlady even hinted "I will be home" on occasions she would have welcomed intercourse but I never took her up on what I thought was a proposition. I met a "lady" with whom I did have intercourse between marriages but she turned out to be a tramp. Then a real woman who had the hots for me seduced me before I met my present wife. She was married, however, and all the orgasms I could give her in rapid succession couldn't make up for that one impediment. I broke her heart by moving far, far away.
I continued to masturbate and my new landlady didn't care as evidenced by the hand lotion she gave me. I asked her one time, "What do I need this for?" She said right out To keep from hurting yourself!" I did odd jobs for her while I was having the affair with the one who was so enamored of the way I could almost bring her at will. I guess that my habit was known about by the married woman too. She was very shy but said one time, "Don't you ever come?" I acceded that beyond her vagina which she had had to clean out on numerous occasions "I do have my hand!" Her remark was a smile and admission "I do that too!" After moving far, far away I was a bachelor till my intended thought it seemly enough for me to move in beside her. I put a remote extension to my apartment phone at her bedside and we lived in "sin" till we were married. My children could always get "Dad" on the first ring and were none the wiser. Living in sin is fun and I highly recommend it but not to my children. I claim that my present wife only married me because I had her pinned-down when I proposed. Even with an ardent SO and spouse, my hand jobs continued. I had a separate VCR in the den on which I pieced together various rented segments of nearly bare vulvas receiving large penises from another room. The "artistry" saw me hopping from room to room with a large protuberance visible if anybody had been home. Of course, I would break down and "use" the un pieced or pieced-together pornography I had rented. We live in a small town; so I have to go to a remote (and that's far away) town to rent a blue movie. I have (still) have great fun in finding the old "artistry" and a way to catch the resulting semen. The orgasms seem to be enhanced by watching what I thought were tantalizing shots at the time.
As we got older it was my wife's dream to sponsor an exchange student. We found one who's brother had moved on to a four-year college from our local junior college while his sister was still in H.S. We sponsored the sister who was a senior. She had my beloved den and adjoining guest room. One time (I had not locked the door) she came bursting in from the garage after school. I had my pants down and was in the hissy-fit final stages of masturbating to orgasm with my favorite video on "her" TV when this girl of 17 came in. Realize, I wanted to finish in the worst way, but her being through the doorway and in the room made my finish "the worst way!" I fiddled to try (with the failing remote) to get the suggestive scenes off the screen across the room while I did hurt myself pulling up my pants as the penis she had seen withered. I stuffed the wiper and lubricant bottle under the seat and said, "Wait a minute!" She did but left the door ajar to see the bare vulva's and servicing large erect penis I could not get off the screen for ½ a minute. I left the video and ran to the other room in embarrassment. She followed me asking that I tune in Beverly Hills 90211 on the satellite receiver. I know she saw that video because she left it in another place than I was "using." I knew that she knew what I was doing; so, later I asked her if she did. I got a beating-around-the-bush answer that indicated she did know. I also learned that she was still a virgin and wanted to "experiment." There was no way I would "Experiment" with this person in my trust as her sponsor. I learned, though, that "I do that too.!" My inquiries as to how she learned about orgasms fell on deaf ears; so I can't add that to my Bio. The remaining time she lived here was peaceful enough but one time she asked me "Don't you get enough of the (you know) regular kind of sex?" I told her I do but am an insatiable type when it comes to orgasms. I figured right there that I had had some twenty thousand in my fifty (then) years of getting them either in vaginas or by hand. I counted the frequencies from eleven (when I discovered them) through my teens into college and two marriages (carrying numbers on my fingers) till I arrived at that number. She was outraged that "You would tell me THAT!" She calmed down some after I speculated on any effect the vasectomy I had had on my potency. She looked up and asked, "Then, you are sterile?" I said that I was, confirmed by a very embarrassing sperm count in the hospital. Then came a second attempt to seduce me, "Because no one would know and I can't get pregnant." I told her, I would know and I couldn't look her brother in the eye. She then told me he is gay and all their living together found there was no way for her to get him to "experiment." "Besides, " she told me "we have had deep discussions and I know he would approve." I told her I was sorry but would enjoy talking sex any time she wanted. She did ask if I ever finished the session she interrupted. "Sure, but more carefully" was my answer. And my life in the seven years since has been including may sessions with my self and one or two re-attempts by the same girl (now a college graduate) to "experiment" with me although she doesn't say whether she is still a virgin or not.
That's about the story of my masturbatory life except the time I recommended this site To a mother who is suspecting that her son is doing it. I got a quick rebuff. Later she told me the symptoms of him keeping her out of his room and of breaking in to read or look at pornography on her computer ( she looked at "Cache" ). I told her it is perfectly normal and that she should tell her son (13) that and save the mamma's-boy hang-ups that I had at age 11 when I found orgasms in the "flip of a wrist."



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