Antelope Patrol, Part 1

Posted by: Author: Age: 53 now, 13-24 then Posted on: 1 comments
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I learned about masturbation through Boy Scouts. I can remember sitting around a campfire late one night as other members of my troop were talking about 'jerking off'. I asked them what that was. I was thirteen at the time. I had grown pubes and my dick had increased in size but I was as ignorant as they come. The other scouts explained to me what 'jerking off' meant. I had heard about a wet dream although I'd yet to have one, but this was something brand new. You do what? What comes out? It feels good, you say?

I soon experimented when I got home. Before dinner one night, I locked the bathroom door. My fellow scouts hadn't exactly explained the mechanics to me but by playing with my dick, I got a boner. I tried rubbing my dick many different ways before I figured out to circle it with my thumb and forefinger. After rubbing it for a while, the inside of my dick started to burn-this was not good-and I stopped. I got worried. I'd feel real dumb if I hurt myself trying this weird-ass dirty boy idea. How would I explain it to Mom? I started jacking again and the burning sensation returned. Oh, no. I had permanently crippled my dick. I just knew it. I must be doing this jerking off thing wrong but it didn't seem so. There was only one way out of this dilemma: I let curiosity win out over caution. I crudely yanked on my dick for a few minutes more before I had my first orgasm. Oh no, yes! Boy, oh boy, what a rush! I will never forget how good that first orgasm felt. In many respects, it was the best orgasm of my life. I did eject white cum. Not a lot and it was really thick, like white paste. After I recovered, I washed up and came out for dinner. I remember the meal took forever. I'm sure my parents thought I was an especially moronic teenager that night. All I wanted to do was go back to the bathroom and try my new trick again. My after dinner orgasm wasn't nearly as overpowering as the first but I made more cum and it was runnier. In any case, I was hooked.

Our troop did a weekend overnight campout each month during the school year and I could hardly wait until the next trip to tell the other guys about my new found skill. Looking back on it, maybe it was surprising how open we were, talking about masturbation, although of course nobody ever called it that. It was always jerking, jacking or beating off (another scout had to explain to me that beating off was the same thing as the other two). It was a different era. This was the mid 1960s. While sex talk is more common now, nudity was more common then. Maybe two or three times a year, our troop would find a good swimming hole on a hike and everyone would go skinny dipping. Occasionally even one of the assistant scout masters, who was always a young adult, would join us. Nobody thought anything about it. There would always be the new scout who would swim in his trunks, but with the ridicule he took, soon those came off. I specifically remember this happening with Stookey, a kid who was later in my patrol. At eleven years old, Stookey was barely four and a half feet tall and weighed 70 pounds on a good day. Over the next few years Stookey grew maybe half a foot and added 20 pounds. He had close cut brown hair and a goofy grin. Loud and active, he was just plain fun to be with. Stookey became one of my best friends in the troop. Soon after Stookey joined the troop, on the Saturday hike into our campsite, the whole troop stopped at a deepening of the lazy river we were following for a skinny dipping session. While I'm sure the idea for our skinny dip came from us boys, the adult leaders were certainly in agreement. They had to be; they were right there. Stookey changed into his swimming trunks before he would join us naked boys in the river. Besides being heckled for wearing trunks, he should never have opened his pack to get them. We saw he had an alarm clock in his pack, so of course somebody set the alarm to go off an hour later when we were back on the trail. To his credit, Stookey loosened up well on that trip. On the Sunday hike out, we stopped at a different swimming hole on the same river and this time it was a naked Stookey who raced for the water. I remember seeing his hairless little boy's dick, although that was easy considering the ruckus Stookey made, screaming and with his arms flailing, as he ran to the water. I'd learn later this was classic Stookey. My dad had met the troop that morning at our campsite for the hike out and to drive kids home, and I remember him looking at me. I'm sure he was checking me out. I'm not certain he'd seen that I had started to grow pubes and my increased dick size yet. Nudity was uncommon in my house.

We were a successful, stable Boy Scout troop and the best version of my patrol, the Antelope Patrol, was a solid unit for almost two years, an eternity in Boy Scouts. The patrol leader was Dave Fields. He was about a year and a half older than me and was in the troop more because his dad was the Scoutmaster than anything. Dave was a fun guy but could care less about merit badges and scouting tasks. Taller than me, he was wide and built, with a full chest and thighs. Dave's younger brother, Don, maybe six months younger than me, was also in the Antelope Patrol. Skinny Don didn't have Dave's build and was half a head shorter. Both boys had brown hair, parted on the side. Dave's was wavy. Don's was straight. While Dave was the natural leader, Don wouldn't take any guff from his older brother. They fought a lot even though Don always lost. Also in the Antelope Patrol was Barry, a good friend of mine from school and basically my age. He joined the troop the same day I did. Soon Stookey, too, became part of our crew. Many other guys drifted through Antelope Patrol but we five remained. Stookey was the youngest of our group and we never let him forget it. He must have been twelve and a half at the time of the central skinny dipping event you'll read about shortly, which would have made Don thirteen, Barry and me not quite fourteen, and Dave fifteen.

Things stayed pretty much like that in the troop, joking about jacking off but nothing more. Occasionally we'd make a new scout get naked for us during an initiation into the troop. This was strictly away from the leaders and never progressed further. More common, somebody would get pantsed and have to run around nude or maybe in their underwear for a short while. I remember this happening to me one afternoon on a camping trip as I chased after my clothes, wearing nothing more than socks. I was more upset that they had stolen my glasses than my shorts. I remember more than one pair of boxers being thrown up a tree or run up a flag line with the nude victim having to fend for themselves. This was not considered offensive and if an adult was around, nobody cared. We all went to the same junior high school with mandatory gang showers at the end of gym class starting in the sixth grade. With all grades showering together at the end of each period, nakedness among us was common. We just pantsed a guy to embarrass him, being the teenage hooligans we were.

Things did change dramatically for the Antelope Patrol on one later camping trip. Saturday afternoon, after the hike in and we had set up our camp, we decided to go exploring. The group of explorers was Dave and Don Fields, another boy and me. I can't remember now who that fourth boy was, although I don't think he was a member of the Antelope Patrol. It doesn't really matter. We hiked a good mile up the canyon from our campsite. A creek followed the canyon and we found a great swimming hole. It won't come as a surprise that clothes were shed and skinny dipping occurred. There was some youthful grab-ass, where you try to goose the other guy, but it was all in good fun and nothing sexual. After a short swim, we got out and sat on some nearby flat rocks to catch the warm sun and dry off. Everyone stayed naked and I'm sure the talk turned dirty. Young teenage boy dirty, but still dirty. I think it was Dave Fields that got the first boner. Soon, though, we all had hard-ons. And what do twelve to fifteen year old boys with boners do with them? You guessed it. Not a word was spoken. No agreement was needed. We all just sat there on those flat rocks and started beating off. After the initial Oh My God! shock somewhat wore off-it never did fully go away-I can remember very well checking out the other guys. I'd never seen another boy jack off. They all seemed to be doing it roughly the same way I did. That was a relief. Dave lay back on a rock, eyes closed, with his fist wrapped around his dick, pulling up and down on it furiously. Don roughly faced me, propped up on his left arm and jerking off with his right, his legs spread wide. Like his brother, Don was beating off with his eyes more closed than open. I leaned back against a rock, rubbing my stomach and chest with my left hand as my right hand jacked my meat. I could easily watch everyone. I wasn't going to miss any of this spontaneous jerk off session. Boy #4, whoever he was, sat on my rock to the right of me. I really don't remember anything about him except that he was left handed and at one point we bumped elbows. Shocked, we stopped and moved away from each other, but soon the jerking began again. I can't remember the order that we all came although it was quickly. The whole event certainly didn't last long. After the last guy came, we sat around for a few seconds until Dave Fields stood up and walked back into the water. We all joined him for a brief swim and clean up. This time when we got out, we used our shirts to dry off and dressed immediately. Still nothing was said. My mind was racing too fast for me to speak. As we hiked back to camp, occasional 'do you really believe we just did that' wide-eyed glances were exchanged.

Around the campsite that night the Antelope Patrol finally started to talk about what had happened. None of us had ever done anything like that before although I already knew Dave had shown his younger brother Don how to jerk off. I later discovered they beat off occasionally together. But in a group like that, outside, with a bunch of friends, those were brand new experiences for the three of us. Stookey soon found out about our adventure and was mad he hadn't been there. This was a year and a half after he joined the troop and he'd started to develop and was jacking off regularly. Being the youngest of our group, he made sure we knew that well before this trip. Stookey was very proud he could cum. Sunday morning we had a few hours to kill before we had to break camp and hike out. Quickly, we decided to walk back up to our swimming hole. This time the group was Stookey, the Fields brothers and me. I can't tell you what happened to boy #4. He wasn't my concern. The hard-on that I had from the moment we decided to return to our swimming hole was. Once we arrived, we kept up the charade of why we were there. We went skinny dipping before we sat down again on the flat rocks. Maybe we talked for a bit, but I remember right away I was playing with my dick, not waiting for an accidental boner. I was on a different rock than before, lying flat, with my head propped up on my boots. Dave was where I'd been the day before, strong, wet and shimmering. Today he was beating his meat slower and looking around, his left hand fingering his belly button. We locked eyes, glanced at each other's dicks and smiled. Dave's dick was shiny from a combination of river water and pre-cum. Don was next to him, once again with his eyes closed, lost in his own jerk off experience. With Don naked and so close to me, I noticed how truly thin he was. If Don and I could trade about 20 pounds, that would be just about right. Stookey was on another rock beside mine, lying down with his clothes for a pillow. He'd pull on his dick, then stop for a few seconds and check everyone out. I bet he was making sure he wasn't being set up for another one of our practical jokes. He'd then go back to intensely jacking his dick. Maybe it took the same amount of time as the previous day for everyone to come or maybe it didn't. It certainly seemed to take longer. Or at least it did for me as this time as I came last, rolling over onto my side in order to cum on the rock instead of myself. Because of that, I finished my jack in full view of the other guys. I felt everyone's eyes upon me. It was exhilarating. I came hard, harder than the day before. It's funny how much more I was into the situation this day. Yesterday had been unreal. I couldn't quite believe it was happening. This time I enjoyed it. We didn't bother with the second swim and instead got dressed and went back to camp. Again, few words were said beyond that was fun. Totally unspoken but understood was that we'd find a way to do this again.

Even before we broke camp, I knew somehow we had to include Barry in on our activities. Barry was my best friend in the troop. He was tall and lanky, a long distance runner later in high school. I was a couple of inches shorter than him and maybe 10 pounds heavier. I was what was called husky back then. With my constant need for my glasses, I looked like the geek I was. We were opposites. He was an athlete where I was a bookworm. He had long straight hair parted in the middle while I had short curly hair always out of place. I got great grades when Barry struggled. He liked disciple, and later went into the military; I was a free spirit. Maybe that's why we were such good friends.

The opportunity for adding Barry to our play came when he joined us a few weekends later for an informal Antelope Patrol campout in my huge backyard. With our tents secluded, we could stay up as late and make as much noise as we wanted to. Our troop had these large Baker tents which were easily seven feet on a side and could sleep three comfortably. We had borrowed two of them from the troop and set them up earlier that evening. I can't remember it being a deliberate conspiracy to limit the group to the core five of Dave, Don, Stookey, Barry and me, but it certainly ended up being that. I do remember us all sitting in one of the tents in my backyard that night, telling Barry about our group jack off (we didn't know the term 'circle jerk'-we were so stupid) sessions at the swimming hole. Barry's mouth hung wide open. I learned a lot about my good friend Barry over the next few months. While I knew he jerked off as we joked about it upon occasion, I didn't know how much he really liked to jerk off. I mean, we all liked to beat off but somehow Barry did it with more gusto, especially when he was horny. And watch out when he got horny. You might get taken on a jacking adventure. On one of our later weekend, official Boy Scout camping trips, Barry got everyone together for one of our patrol jerk off sessions, taking the lead to initiate a friend of his into our club. Barry basically duplicated the initiation we put him through this night, only better.

After telling Barry of our fun at the swimming hole and that we wanted to do it again that night, we asked him if he'd like to jack off with us. He admitted that he possibly might, maybe. That was a yes to us so we upped the ante. We told Barry that to join us, he'd have to jerk off first while we watched. (The four of us had come up with this diabolical initiation in about fifteen seconds while we were setting up the tents and Barry was away.) Barry absolutely refused. The rest of us didn't give up. After we told him again how exciting it had been and I applied some good old peer pressure, Barry's fourteen year old horniness, bolstered by maybe a little trust in me, caused him to give in a bit. He said, OK, he'd jack off with us but he would not be the first. We all had to jack together. We compromised in that we agreed to strip together and we'd take it from there. Somewhere along the line, with the commitment now being only to strip, we'd added he had to show off his dick to us. Barry reluctantly consented. The five of us all slowly took off our clothes and then sat around for a while, talking. A flashlight propped up in the corner created more shadows than light. Most of us tried to cover up some way. Being naked like this itself was a something new. Funny, I'd jerked off with three of these guys only weeks before but somehow I felt more naked now. Maybe it was because this time there was no skinny dipping pretense. I was naked here in my backyard for one purpose only. Dave, our patrol leader and never a shy guy, took the lead. First he told everyone sit with their legs down and with their arms and any clothes at their sides. We were exposed. Nobody bothered to maintain the eye contact you would in a locker room. Everyone peeked. I know I stared. After a bit of this, Dave said let's get going and ordered Barry to lie on his back in the center of the tent, his gangly body having trouble finding room. I can't remember if Dave told us to knell around Barry or if we naturally just did it. I do remember feeling not just Barry was on display but that I was, too. We all were. I popped a boner right away. It was somewhere around this point that any reserve I had disappeared for the rest of the night. I remember Barry was first tickled mercilessly. After that, we poked and prodded him, feeling up Barry's chest, stomach and crotch. I remember cupping his nut sack. I picked put Barry's soft pud and felt it stiffen in my hand. Wowsah. Soon enough, Barry was as hard as a rock. With our fingers occasionally running up or down his boner, we didn't have to ask Barry twice to start pulling on his prick. By this time he was into it. Maybe it was the equally hard dicks all around him that pushed him over the edge. I had the hardest hard-on I'd ever felt. We were each so turned on that the plan of waiting for Barry to jerk off first was forgotten. Maybe ten seconds after he started, the rest of us were sitting back on our butts and jacking away, too. I watched four other boys pound their meat while I pounded mine. This time, nobody kept their eyes closed. It seemed like one giant fist was yanking on all of our dicks. And when we came, it was quick, loud and messy. It was an explosive orgasm for me, as it was for the others. White spunk was everywhere and on everybody. With laughs and yuchs coming from each of us, I donated my t-shirt so everyone could clean up. We also had some water we could use to rinse off. We kept laughing, grabbing and poking at each other after this. Grab-ass had turned into grab-nipple, grab-nuts and grab-dick. Not surprisingly, we all got boners again. The group grope lead to our second jerk off session in the tent, this jack a lot less frantic than the first. It wasn't as messy, either, as I remember reaching for an already pretty skanky t-shirt when I came.

We all stayed naked for the next few hours. With the recovery time only young boys have, we each beat off a few more times that night. Almost predictably, we had a boner measuring contest. We didn't have a ruler-we had forgotten to Be Prepared-so we used a stick marked with a pen to compare. We made that part of an inspection game, where, like Barry, we each laid down in the center of the tent to be checked out by the others. I remember Barry pushing for this as he knew an inspection hadn't been part of our initial experience at the swimming hole. Fair is fair, he said. Dave thought, as patrol leader, he should be exempt from the examination. The rest of us quickly decided that if that was the case, then he could walk home now. Dave stayed. We did let Barry out of the inspection as we'd just checked him out but he did have to get a boner for us to measure. I still have an image of that in my mind. Here was my good friend, naked, playing with his dick, getting a hard-on right in front of me while I watched. That was something brand new. Somehow this seemed stranger than him jerking off with us just a few minutes before or even my handling of his dick. As for dick size, Dave's was the longest but barely. He just topped Barry. Stookey had the shortest dick. His was also the thinnest. As if we needed another thing to tease him about. Everyone had reasonably developed dicks for their age although of course we all hoped they'd still increase in size. Is that a nice way of saying outside of Stookey's, mine was the shortest? Nut size seemed to follow dick size pretty closely. I was surprised, though, about Stookey's nuts. They weren't small anymore but they were still totally hairless. We were all circumcised. I never saw an uncircumcised dick in all the meetings of the Antelope Patrol. Otherwise, Dave had the hairiest crotch, again followed closely by Barry. Don and I were about the same, with significantly less pubic hair. Stookey had just a small patch of pubes around the base of his dick. All of this would change. I have to admit I don't remember all of these physical details from just this night, but I did get to see these guys up close and naked a lot later on, and this is how they looked. That we were each inspected that night, of that I'm sure. My inspection was quite a turn on for me. While the guys did rub my nipples and chest, not surprisingly they focused on my crotch. Outside of a doctor or my mother, nobody had ever checked out my dick before. Somehow I'd missed all the Truth or Dare games. Now here my friends were pulling on my dick and squeezing my nuts. I boned up quickly. They kept handling my hard-on. I remember thinking, don't stop now. Unfortunately, they did. I didn't get tickled like Barry. Instead, they gave me a pink belly. That's when someone plays drums on your stomach with their hands. After just a few seconds, it stings like crazy and your belly turns bright pink. Of course, that's when the drumming both speeds up and gets harder. It hurts worse than a spanking. The sting is a lot sharper while it's going on. They held me down for my pink belly; they had to. My stomach was still red the next morning.

From there it was back to jerk off games. We had a contest to see who could cum the quickest. We each jacked off while the other guys watched, timing how long it took. We drew numbers out of a cup to decide the order. Barry pulled #1 so his initiation actually did happen; it was just later in the evening when Barry jerked off first while we watched. I enjoyed this game, watching the other guys beat off while not doing it myself. One more new experience. Another time we tried to see how long we could go before we came. That didn't work. Nobody came. But it wasn't all just games. It was fun, too. At least once during the evening, we all jacked off just for the sake of jacking off. I remember sitting around talking, the five of us recovering from our last session, when Dave started fingering his soft dick. I think Don joined him next although it might have been me. Probably it was me. It makes no difference. Soon we were all jerking away until we came. I caused the biggest surprise of the night. While most of our spunk that evening ended up on my t-shirt, I shocked everyone by licking my fingers clean after one of my blasts. Although I'd done this many times in private, the other boys certainly had never seen me do it. It became the Antelope Patrol macho trip: can you lick your fingers after beating off? I remember Stookey, game for almost anything and anxious to show he was a big boy, licked his fingers that night. Over the course of the next few months, eventually everyone did. 'Finger lickin' good' became a secret password for our club. Late into the night, we finally got tired and split up to the two tents to go to bed. Curiously, we all got dressed for sleep, at least putting back on our underwear. Barry and I ended up sharing the party tent and we both jacked off one more time, this time quietly and in the dark, before we went to sleep. The following day I ended up throwing my t-shirt away in a neighbor's trash can. Even though I rinsed it out with a hose, I never could wear it again. Maybe I should have saved it for our club flag. We also had to wash out the tent the next morning. It reeked of sex, the first time I had smelled that. My bedroom and bathroom never reeked of sex. God knows I tried.



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