Reading another contributor's reference to a History lesson, reminded me of my introduction to masturbation in 1950s England.
I discovered masturbation at the age of thirteen. I suppose I must have been approaching that age when I remember experiencing three 'peculiar dreams' (nocturnal dry climaxes), in one of which, I was vigorously spanking a little girl's naked bottom - who may very well have been the same girl that I had seen wetting herself in class when I was about 7. I don't remember much about these dreams except that I experienced the most exquisite sensations I had ever encountered. I was mystified as to how I could repeat that ecstatic thrill.
I did not have to wait too long to discover the magical key to that exciting feeling of a few months earlier. My chance came during a science lesson as old 'Smiler', our Science teacher, was droning on about something boring, covering the blackboard with incomprehensible symbols. I felt a nudge, and turning, I found my pal Noel directing my gaze towards his crotch where, in the shadow of the lab bench, his flies were undone and his little hairless willy lay exposed. 'Get yours out', he suggested. I hesitated. This was relatively new to me.
I say 'relatively' as I remember it was only the previous day that I had been equally amazed in the History lesson when I was trying to borrow a rubber. I wandered to the rear of the class and came across Tony and his mate, both with their erect penises out. I had never before seen another boy's penis swollen and stiff like this. Their organs were big (about 5 or 6 inches) and red and I caught a glimpse of pubic hair. Tony, clutching his in his fist, had pointed it at me in the manner of a shotgun and said,
'Get away, or I'll blast yer!'
I asked, incredulously, 'What are you doing?'
'Wanking!' came the inevitable reply.
'What's 'wanking'?' I had enquired dumbfounded, and was vaguely irritated when my question had been greeted with a stifled laugh of contempt. I adjudged, from the positions of their occupants' hands, that the same activity was going on behind other desks along the back row. I returned to my seat none the wiser, and annoyed at the conspiratorial and scornful attitude of my classmates.
Now, on the following day, Noel was inviting my participation in what I perceived to be the same secret activity - 'wanking'. Slowly I unbuttoned my flies and uncovered my soft, circumcised cock. Uncertain of what to do, I watched Noel intently, as he manipulated his foreskin up and down. He was generally toying and fiddling with his until it stiffened to about 3-4 inches. Inexpertly, I followed his same general actions and mine, too became erect. I'd experienced erections before, and had never understood why my penis did that. My cock was probably about the same size as Noel's. I continued stroking it when suddenly,-Eureka! I'd found that elusive secret - that same ecstatic and exquisite sensation that I'd felt during those 'funny' dreams. The whole of my groin area became a focal point of intense delight. The feeling seemed to encompass my whole being, producing the most blissful and thrilling excitement I'd ever known. If anything, it was better than before. What a wonderful way to achieve such heavenly and inexpensive pleasure!
It would afford me hours of enjoyment in days - and indeed years - to come.
My initiation in the science lab under Noel's watchful gaze didn't end with my first waking orgasm. I noticed some transparent sticky liquid drooling from the end of my cock.
'That's spunk!' my mentor averred.
I was thrilled, even if I had no idea what spunk was! My elation turned to fear however as I noticed some reddish spots that had appeared on the shaft, just beneath the glans and a purple patch had appeared on the head itself. Again, Noel cast his expert eye on my softening tool. He finally declared,
'You've got the Pox!'
I was terrified. Again, I didn't know what 'the pox' was, but to have caught it so suddenly, and 'down there'; it must have been something awful and shameful, and must be somehow connected with wanking. No wonder my mother had frequently admonished me whenever my hands had wandered crotchwards!
'Take your hands away from there!' she'd scold. It's a wonder that I ever persevered with the solitary vice!
It was doubly worrying, as that night was bath night. Somehow, I had to prevent my mother from seeing the tell-tale signs. Fortunately, I managed my ablutions without any maternal interruptions, and within a few days, the spots and purple mark had disappeared as mysteriously as they had materialised.
Having discovered the elusive secret of the orgasm, sex was all I could think about. I hardly missed a day without a wank, although it was a while before I realised that the clear, sticky fluid so readily called 'spunk' by Noel, was not actually the real thing. At school, I got in on the fringe of Tony's group. There were between four and six of us, and at lunchtime, we'd go to some nearby woods or to the secluded corner of the games-field, screened by some bushes. There, the careful observer would have seen several healthy young cocks being vigorously massaged. We were what a teacher, in the TV drama Made in England described as a 'wanking gang' as opposed to a 'randy gang', whose main activity - apparently - was 'chasing little girls across the playing field in the hope of getting a smelly finger.' As we were at an all-boys' school, this latter was never going to happen.
The games-field corner was bounded on the other side by an iron fence and a rough track. Anyone passing along the path would have had a clear and unobscured view of what we were up to, so we had to keep a whether eye open for intruders. On one occasion, three girls from a neighbouring school came along, and Tony, cock in hand, moved towards the fence, almost offering it to them!
'It's alright,' Tony said, 'I won't fuck yer stiff!'
I was amazed at his brazenness. The girls squealed and ran off. They would have been about 13 or 14. Tony was unashamed with his use of bad language; I remember during a conversation about girls' private parts, how Tony told us that his little brother, 11 yr old Michael, referred to a girl's vagina as a 'little c**tus'. Very few boys that I knew in those days ever used the 'F' and 'C' words, so Tony & his brother seemed daring and forbidden, and thus alluring company.
On another occasion, in the depths of a typical south coast winter, four of us went during the lunch break to a wooded area a short distance from school. There had been a recent snowfall, but this did not deter us from producing our penises once we had penetrated the flora beyond prying eyes. No sooner had I exposed myself, one of the others rammed a fistful of snow all over my genitals! That killed off any urge I had to go further. It's funny, but we always seemed to use that word-'urge', to indicate randiness, as in-'I've really got 'The Urge' today', or some such-like to indicate an erection. I don't recall anyone saying, 'I really feel 'horny' today.'
I took every opportunity to see other boys' genitals or see them in the nude. Jamie and I would go to the 'bogs' and lock ourselves in a cubicle. Then we would undo our trousers and drop our pants, lifting our shirts up to our armpits. The feel of another boy's hand on my rampant, hairless little cock and mine on his were simply electrifying. Jamie's penis was quite a bit bigger than mine, with a big bell-end. We were both circumcised and I enjoyed the smooth feel of his purple cockhead. Jamie too used to expose himself in the science lab, and once, for a dare, walked the entire length of the school main corridor with his erect penis out! He did have his satchel over it, but anyone could have jostled him en route and his cover would have been blown. Jamie was a bit of a twonk, but he went up in my estimation after that.