Before I was seven I started playing with myself, and I remember the sheer pleasure when I would have orgasms. My father found me once, and told me never to do that but I didn't stop, I wouldn't stop, but I kept it secret. My dad is a great dad, and I love him a lot, but masturbating (or talking about sex) was taboo at our house. I was masturbating two, three or four times a day once I reached puberty, and talked about it with my friends, but could never share it with my father, even though I wanted to. I wanted to know what his body was like, how is cock looked when it was excited, and to show him my pleasure. But I couldn't. I like to masturbate, and would love to share it with my dad, but it's impossible.
When at college, I often hitch-hiked back and forth to home along the safe rural roads of our state. I felt a kind of sexual excitement hitch-hiking, because I never knew what I would find, and often conversations on the road turned to sex, the subject I couldn't bring up at home. It was fun talking about with strangers in the intimacy of their cars, I found it thrilling and looked forward to more encounters. I didn't have 'sex' as a hitch-hiker, but I had some thrilling and sexy conversations that later turned me on while masturbating.
I went to Europe one summer, and far from home I felt very erotic while riding around with new people, friendly strangers. I was much more outgoing and willing to try anything. All my fantasies seemed possible. So I was hitching in Germany and a French businessman about the same age as my father picked me up. We talked about France, and of course you cannot talk about France without talking about sex, and we talked about his wife and my girlfriend and how much and what kind of sex we liked. He asked if I missed my girlfriend, which I did.
He said, 'Do you masturbate more because you are alone?'
I said, 'Yes.'
He said, 'Do you like to masturbate?'
'Yes, I like it a lot.'
'Do you do it often.'
Then he said that when he is on a business trip, he masturbates always, and when he goes back home the excitement with his wife increases. I said I knew what he was talking about, that whenever I had good masturbation, I also had good sex with my girlfriend.
We hit it off. We told many stories-I told him all about my girlfriends, and a lot about my sex life, and he told me a lot about his youth. We were very uninhibited with each other, we seemed to understand each other well. We talked on and on, and it began to grow dark on the road.
I had planned to reach a youth hostel, but it was still far away, and the businessman, named Michelle (it's also a guy's name in France) offered to let me share his room in a pension. I agreed. After a few moments a wave of excitement passed through me-after what we had just shared with each other, hmmmmmm, something might happen! I had fantasized, almost absentmindedly, about what Michelle looked like naked, what his penis looked like, the hair on his body--all those things while we talked. Now perhaps I would find out!
Or perhaps not, it didn't really matter, I felt excited and happy with a new friend. We checked in, and as we were getting settled in the room Michelle told me, in a matter of fact way, what he usually did away from home-he would take dinner, then a long warm shower, then get into bed and masturbate. He said, 'Perhaps you are accustomed to doing something similar. Would you like to join me?' He was so friendly and relaxed, I had no trouble saying yes. We went for dinner and as we walked to the restaurant, I thought, 'Wow, this is going to be interesting! Am I being seduced?!'
We sat in the dining room, and I tried to act normally, even though I was bursting with nervous excitement at the thought of sharing masturbation with an older man. Of course, as an American everyone noticed me, but I felt comfortable, because I could act a bit strange and who would know? We talked all through dinner, very friendly, sharing and laughing.
We checked out the sexy French women in the room, and let each other get turned on by them. We imagined how each would be in bed. I think I had a tent pole for the entire dinner. I could hardly eat, I was so excited, and my mind kept racing ahead to what would happen in the room upstairs. I imagined showing off my body to my new friend, and I undressed Michelle a dozen times at the table with my imagination. I couldn't wait to see him naked.
Back in our room, Michelle turned on the soft-porn channel above the bed, went into the shower and came out naked and clean. He was handsome, with a dark hairy chest, dark skin, and a cock that was larger than normal. His sack hung low, and was very loose. I was suddenly shy to strip in front of him, and I went into the bathroom clothed. Once there, I wanted to shower fast and run out to the room, but instead I very carefully scrubbed myself in every little nook of my body.
When I was ready to go out into the room I couldn't decide whether to go naked or with a towel. I was happy and felt very exhibitionistic and also totally self-conscious. Like a nervous schoolgirl I couldn't make up my mind. When I opened the door, Michelle was on his bed, naked, with a half-erection, rubbing his chest and watching the soft porn on the television. He looked at me and very courteously gestured for me to take my place on my bed. I smiled, threw off my towel, and lay down.
I was suddenly nervous, naked with a stranger in his room, but my friend just ignored all that, and began talking about what was happening on the movie, making wonderful noises and grunts and sounds to express his delight at the soft porn we watched. Soon I joined in, and it was like watching football together, except that this was sex. After all, I'd spent many hours doing the same, alone, in motels across America, and now I could share it with someone else. All the while my friend made half-humorous, half-passionate sounds and commentary while he played with himself, stretched out and relaxed.
I was shy about looking at him, and he only glanced over at me once in a while, but his stare was intense and totally at my cock. Pretty soon we had our first orgasm together. I saw he was getting super stiff and intense, and his breathing changed. I stopped to watch him but he turned to look at me and said 'You too!'. I got up on my knees so I could see his cock and balls, and suddenly I felt so exposed, completely naked and raw.
His concentration poured into my cock, and I was riveted on his. It seemed his cock kept growing and swelling more and more. My hand came alive and matched him stroke for stroke. Then his back arched and he slipped his legs up and raised his ass off the bed, and I could feel him in the last moments before a climax, and then saw gobs of cum gushing out and all over his body. At that moment, a huge wave of relief flooded me, and I had one of the biggest orgasms of my life!
We smiled and congratulated each other, and cleaned up, and lay back down. We casually stroked ourselves, enjoying the soft porn. I was very hot, and my erection felt soooo good. Michelle played with his balls, which were pretty big, and traced little circles on the head of his penis until he had to stop or cum again. We took our time, carefully avoiding going 'over the brink', and I enjoyed laying flat on my back with my head turned to watch Michelle.
Abruptly, Michelle pulled his legs up, and then rolled over on his knees. He said,
'Ah, you are so clean and nice, don't you ever get dirty? I know you must! How about this?' and he licked his finger and slipped it into his hole.
He looked at me, 'Go on, you must try!'
I was shy and afraid to let him see me like that, but I felt 'trapped' and couldn't refuse, and so I raised my butt in the air and slipped my finger smoothly into my butt. I would never admit it, but two or three times a month a huge urge comes over me to do exactly that, and I intensely craved and loved it late at night. Now I was exposed! Everything became sweet and soft. I let go of my cock, and stroked my buttocks while my butt squeezed my finger. We savored the sensation, and then Michelle rolled over and stroked himself to another gooey climax. I watched him, and surged with pleasure; I came without touching my cock and collapsed on the bed, still pushing cum out onto the sheets.
I ran to the sink and cleaned up, and lay down exhausted. My friend was on his back, gently playing with himself while he looked at pictures of his wife, and I quickly fell asleep. In the morning we awoke and started to go down for breakfast, but then looked at each other and there was no question we both wanted to jack off some more.
Michelle left me to go on to Paris, and I went to Germany in an erotic daze. We exchanged addresses so we could write when I got home. In a few days, I had an overwhelming urge to see Michelle again. He said he could arrange a business trip and meet me before I flew out of Paris. When we met for dinner again we talked excitedly; Michelle told me that he had great sex with his wife, Jean, since our meeting, and, because he does not like to lie to her, he told her about our night in the room together. She sent pictures of herself naked and said, 'Don't forget me, ok?' She was beautiful and very sexy, and I don't think she had to worry one bit.
I was even more excited to meet Michelle this time, and now I felt secure and safe, and my shyness disappeared. We masturbated, urging each other on, for...how long? Hours! In the morning, we woke and both began masturbating again for an hour. I watched Michelle's member swell and get hot, and then it surged and dripped cum all over his fist. I felt very erotic, and slipped my underwear over my hard on, and got dressed. A few hours later I was on a plane home.
When I'm in a certain mood, I write to Michelle. He is always warm in his letters back to me, and they are very erotic sometimes. His wife put a note on one letter, she sent kisses, and thanked me for making her husband so hot. Since meeting Michelle, and having this experience, the tension with my father has eased, and our relationship has become warmer. In a way, through Michelle, I've shared my 'secret life' with him, and I'm no longer afraid or embarrassed of who I am.