Have been fascinated with many of the 'first time' stories here. Thought I'd share mine. Comments welcomed as always.
August 3, 1958. Approximately 9 p.m. At long last I discovered 'the secret'. It seemed to have taken forever, but before I talk about that night, here's a little background.
A couple of years earlier I had had a routine physical at school, and, not hearing anything from anyone, I figured everything was normal. Until, that is, when my dad came home from work one day. He motioned for me to come into the bathroom with me, whereupon he asked that I drop my pants. Said that a report came back from the doc saying that I had one testicle that hadn't dropped [which I now know to be an 'undistended' testicle . . . fairly normal for many 11 or 12-year olds, I guess]. After checking me out [a very weird feeling!] my dad said, 'Okay, Pat, looks like everything is in A-1 shape. Now, as long as we're talking (I actually wasn't the one talking here, believe me), I need to mention one other thing.' Hmmm. I had no idea what else might be important here, but as I pulled my shorts and pants up, secured my belt, and did my best to recompose myself, my dad proceeded with 'Now that we've got that behind us, Pat, there's something I want to mention. It's about masturbation.' He had to have noticed the perplexed look on my face because he then went on to say, 'Do you know what it is?'
I responded, 'No, I've never heard of it, Dad.' In truth, I had never heard the word, and had zero idea of what it meant. He was undoubtedly expecting a more intelligent response, because at that point, looking a bit exasperated, he said, 'Well, okay. Just look it up in the dictionary. [I asked him to spell it for me.] And, please hear what I'm saying, don't do it. Just save it 'til you're married.' Again, I had no idea what he meant by 'save it.'
That was the first, and last, conversation my dad and I had about anything related to sex for another 25-plus years. I had absolutely no idea what the 'masturbation' stuff was about, nor did I have any notion of why he was telling me to 'not do it.' Do what? Jeez, was I in the dark. Well, okay. He did, after all, tell me to look it up in the dictionary. Being the reasonably literate person I thought I was for being 12, I hauled out our family Webster's dictionary-within a half-hour of when dad and I were in the bathroom together-and of course looked up the 'm' word. Found it without problem. But then I had a huge disappointment. I was expecting something really revealing, but all my Webster's said on the subject was sex play. Jeez...another disappointment. Sex play, I thought? What's that? I want pictures...I want a real definition. I want an explanation of what this is supposed to mean. After all, my dad wasn't telling me this 'secret' just for nothing, right?
I couldn't, or maybe wouldn't, check out the 'm' word with my older brother. He was 15 at the time, and somehow I was sure it was something he knew nothing of or would otherwise have shared the info with me...we did after all share the same bedroom for years. As for friends, well, youthful embarrassment made that totally out of the question at the time.
Another few years would pass before more light was shed on the subject. Every so often I'd hear one or another of my pals talk about what they did with their boners, 'beating off' or 'jacking off'. It still didn't connect with me. Sometimes I think it's the small town I grew up in . . . and an environment that I could only characterize as sheltered, in retrospect! Too bad I hadn't felt comfortable talking with my buddies, I thought-many years later of course. Or that I hadn't mustered up the courage to approach my older brother.
My state of ignorance continued until one night near the middle of my 15th year. August 3rd, 1958 to be exact. My brother was out on a date and, after I finished whatever homework needed doing, I went upstairs to bed. I turned on the TV (a small 12-incher my bro had built for us then) and stripped down to just my shorts as usual. I suddenly got this super erection. Okay. Nothing too new, I guess, since that had happened numerous times before. This time, though, for reasons I can only guess at, it seemed my boner was more powerful and insistent than ever before. And it wouldn't go down. I just lay there, watching TV, feeling this hard, firm, protruding 'being' that was a part of me, holding up the sheet and blanket over me like a tent. Minutes passed and I kept wondering what in hell was going on.
For reasons I can't fully explain, but most likely stemming from a few dim glimpses of what I might do with my boner based on conversations I'd been in on over the past few years, I pushed the blanket off me and put hand to penis, wrapped it around in a sort of fist-like fashion, and began stroking. And stroking. And stroking. Wow. I had never felt anything like this in my life before. Holy mackerel, I thought. This is neat. No, it's better than neat. It's fantastic. No, it's not fantastic. It's heaven. Wow. Stroke...stroke...the intensity of pure pleasure rose within me, and while I had absolutely zero idea what was really happening, I did in fact know that what I was doing felt better than anything I'd ever experienced. Indescribable, wondrous, exhilarating, hot...everything I suppose one might wish for. I didn't-couldn't-know what was about to happen, but there was a drive inside that kept pushing me on...stroke after stroke after delicious stroke. Every which way I touched myself felt absolutely fantastic. Even if I wanted to stop there was no way I could. The drive was so powerful I kept on going. Until suddenly, I felt an explosion, like there was a volcano inside that had erupted, and as I stroked a bit more, this creamy white stuff shot out of me and up to the ceiling, then another couple of spurts onto the wall behind me, then onto my face, then my chest, and finally a couple more spurts around my hand and penis. What ecstasy...I felt like screaming except my parents were somewhere in the house. And every time I moved my hand so that it stroked over the end of my penis my body would jerk around. Talk about sensitive. Jeez...it suddenly became untouchable!
It took me a minute or two to figure out what had just happened. This was absolutely best feeling I had ever had in my life. So this is what Aaron was talking about! I've finally discovered what it is to masturbate. Good God, what took me so long, I wondered aloud. Come on Pat, you're sure a slow learner. Fortunately I didn't get hung up on my tardiness in discovering 'the secret' and, for the moment, was thinking something more along the lines of 'better late than never'! While I didn't know this at my full conscious level, I was hooked. The sheer ecstasy I had felt was something so truly wonderful that suddenly I had this feeling I had come of age.
The next night I could hardly wait to get to the bedroom and, fortunately, my brother hadn't gotten home yet. With eager anticipation I had an erection at the ready when I jumped into bed. Wow. Just like last night, I thought. What a fantastically wonderful feeling. It didn't take but maybe 3 minutes and I came off...again spurting up to the ceiling and onto the wall behind me. This time, though, I had a worn-out T-shirt with me to clean up the mess right away. I couldn't believe my luck. Here I was, alone, and able to do something that 'I' could control...that I could have fun with...just on my own. It couldn't have been 15 minutes later that my penis was hard again. I tried ignoring it. No luck. After a few minutes, I started stroking and, no surprise, it felt terrific. Talk about being hot. Wow...it wasn't just great, it was almost like I was doing it for the first time again. After a couple of minutes, I had the same feeling of a volcano about to erupt and, sure enough, it did. Jeez. Is this possible, I thought? I just finished doing this a few minutes ago. I didn't know it then, but I had a refractory period that was shorter by several orders of magnitude than is now the case at age 67!
Hooked on masturbation . . . sex . . . edging . . .. To be continued.