thanks for your story of 13/12 Gabe - it reminded me of how I got started
I was born and brought up in a pleasant rural town. In the house on one side of ours lived my best friend Pete. On the other side lived a retired couple who had only moved in a few months before, I will call them Mr and Mrs Jones. I was often called on to do errands and oddjobs for the Jones's and they were always embarrassingly generous in their compensation. It was summer holidays and Pete was off visiting cousins at their farm for a month, and I was feeling a bit bored. Mrs Jones called me over one day and told me that her grandson was coming to stay for a few weeks because his parents were going overseas. She said that this boy (Clive) was about my age and would I mind keeping him company because she didn't think that she could keep a young boy happily occupied for a few weeks. Well, I felt a sort of obligation to cooperate so I said 'sure'.
Since this is a masturbation forum, let me tell you a few relevant things about me. I was, I think, well brought up and knew everything I needed to know in good time. I started puberty when I was 11 and as I have pointed out, its arrival was expected. I was now 13 and was secretly quite proud of my neat little bush of pubic hair. Pete next door, although he was 2 months older than me, had only a few wisps of hair 'down there'. For the last few months I had been having wet dreams about once a week, and again they had come as no surprise. I had of course been told about masturbation and knew that it was something that all boys did and that it was OK to do it. What I had never been told though, was how to actually do it, and as I was quite a 'good' boy I had never made the necessary enquiries.
Now, back to Clive.Two days after Mrs.Jones had spoken to me a smart Range Rover pulled up in front of the Jones house and from the greetings it was obvious who they were. My heart rather sank, though, when I saw the only child in the car, he looked at least 2 years younger than me. I found out later that he was in fact older than me by just over a week. My heart sank even further when I saw that one of the first things to be off-loaded was a violin which was carried gently into the house. It was when I saw them off-loading a bike from the back of the Range Rover that an idea started developing. A while later the phone rang and it was Mrs.Jones asking whether I would like to come over and meet Clive after lunch. Well, go and get it over with I thought and my evil plan had matured : I rather fancied myself as an expert on a bike, so I would invite the little wimp out for a ride, wear him out or better still lose him completely, then I wouldn't be bothered with him for the rest of his stay.
When I proposed a bike ride to Clive he seemed quite keen and Mrs Jones packed us goodies to take with us. The hills round our town are covered in tree plantations, with patches of natural bush in some of the steeper valleys. Pete and I often used to ride our bikes in this area and I knew it well. Clive and I started out and first I took him up a steep hill, followed by a precipitous down-hill. After a while, I came to realise that not only was Clive keeping up with me but that he could probably pass me if he wanted to. Well we rode round like crazy for an hour or more and by then my feelings towards Clive had changed to one of grudging respect, in fact to be honest I was starting to enjoy his company. If my feelings hadn't changed I would never have thought of taking him to 'Our Secret Place' or OSP as Pete and I referred to it as.
OSP was a large flat-topped rock in one of the valleys of natural trees that I had mentioned. It was quite easy to get onto from one side but on the other side there was a drop of 20 or 30 feet. It was fringed by tall trees so that one had the feeling of being in a tree-house. The trees made it virtually invisible from even a short distance, but when on OSP one had a good view all over our town.
Clive was suitably impressed by OSP when I took him there. After our exertions we were both so hot that we took our shirts off and were both now only wearing short pants. The goodies packed by Mrs.Jones were very welcome, especially the cold drink as we were very thirsty. However, after a while my bladder told me that it needed emptying so I said to Clive that I was going for a pee. He said that he needed one too so we stepped over to the edge of the rock and pulled the top of our pants down. While doing this, the thought crossed my mind that I would be able to show Clive something that he didn't have - I was expecting this baby-faced guy to be still completely hairless. Glancing over at him I was rather taken aback to see that not only was his penis about the same size as mine, but that his bush of pubic hair was noticeably bigger. Like me, he pulled his foreskin back to pee (unlike a lot of guys at school who didn't mind spraying all over the place). When he had finished, he shook his penis to get the last few drops out, and it sprang to an instant erection.
'Darn it' Clive said 'Its telling me that it needs a wank.' Involuntarily, my penis had also hardened, but more slowly than Clive's. 'It looks like yours is saying the same thing.' I must have seemed a bit hesitant because he then asked 'You do wank, don't you?' I had to admit that I still didn't know how, but asked if he would show me how. 'Sure' he said 'just do what I do - it feels great - something every guy needs to know.' First we dropped our shorts and then our underpants so that we were both standing there naked with our erections pointing straight up at the sky. The grip that he showed me I have seen called the '3-finger salute' - Thumb on top of the shaft and the next 2 fingers under. He then showed me how to move my hand and darn, it felt good. After a while I hesitated and said to Clive that I thought I needed another pee. 'No, just carry on - it feels a bit like you need to pee, but just now you will see that babyjuice comes out, not pee'. Clive had been wanking all the time while he was talking and he said 'I'm nearly there - just watch'. He closed his eyes and had a look of utter bliss on his face, then he pushed his hips forward and pulled his foreskin right back and I watched in amazement as 3 or 4 spurts of white stuff shot out over the edge of OSP. I had already got to the 'need to pis' feeling again and seeing Clive sent me off too - I shot at least half a dozen spurts - I realized later that I was about due for my next wet dream, so I must have had quite a full load on board. Incidentally, that next wet dream never arrived - with regular wanking, they stopped completely.
There is more I could say, but I guess this is long enough for now, if anyone is interested, I will post a sequel.