It was longer ago than I like to admit, but there are some things in life that you never forget. For me, I experienced one such milestone during the summer I turned 12. If I'd known in advance about the life-changing experience awaiting me, I would have been even more anxious for summer vacation to arrive. It was already long-anticipated because it marked my completion of elementary school, setting the stage for ne to start junior high in the fall.
At the risk of sounding like a typical old fart, kids today don't realize how much easier it is to obtain porn than it was in the days before the Internet. Oh, sure, there was adult magazines, but even they were off-limits to the average horny kid. My parents were even stricter, absolutely forbidding any 'dirty magazine,' no matter how inocuous, in the house.
However, where there's a will, there's a way, and I had one hell of a will! I'd discovered that all of the major department store catalogs, in addition to carrying such things as heavy winter clothing, also carried rather wide selections of ladies' and 'junior miss's' undergarments as well as swimsuits in the summer issues. For quite some time I'd noticed that when I looked at all the pictures of models wearing only a bra, I'd pop an almost instant woody, an effect which was even more pronounced when I looked at the junior miss's department because the girls were a whole lot closer to my age.
Being the oldest child with no older siblings to blaze a trail for me coupled with my parents not yet having mustered the courage to have 'that talk' with me, I'd never heard of masturbation. Nevertheless, I'd learned on my own that when my cock was hard, it felt very good to wrap my hand around it and stroke it slowly, but being ignorant in the area of anything even was remotely associated with sexual pleasure, I had no idea of what I was actually doing.
Then one day, as I was lying on the bed in my room amusing myself by looking at the catalog's bra section and stroking my rock-hard cock, the summer heat suddenly seemed to have been cranked up a notch to the point where it became oppressive. In an effort to beat the heat, I stripped off every last stitch of clothing and continued lying on the bed.
Soon I went back to the catalogue, turned directly to the bra section, and in mere seconds once again I found myself the proud possessor of a hard-on, which I slowly started stroking again. It still isn't clear to me whether it was because my nudity helped me keep cool or whether my movements were no longer being impeded by my clothing. Whatever the reason, I began stroking myself a bit more vigorously than before, still totally aware of what was about to happen.
Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, I experienced a sensation like none I'd ever felt before. My cock started to spasm and then started erupting like some sort of sexual volcano, pumping out vast amounts of a thick, sticky white liquid, which at first I thought to be pus of some kind. Afraid I'd injured myself somehow, I gripped the head of my cock, hoping to minimize whatever damage I had caused myself. However, when my dick continued pumpimg and pumping, at last it dawned on me that there was nothing wrong, so I might as well just lie back and enjoy the ride.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, during which time I had been treated to something in the neighborhood of ten explosive cock spasms, my 12-year-old balls had finally been emptied of their load. Then, as an overwhelming feeling of relief washed over my naked body, I began taking stock of what had just happened.
The first thing I noticed was that there was cum everywhere, evidently due to the way I'd grabbed my cock head when it first started to spasm. As much as it pains me to admit it, I don't think I ever came again as intensely or with as great an amount of jizz as I did that time. However, since I firmly believe this is due to my inability to go for any extended period of time without jacking off, it really doesn't worry me.
I remember that the muscles which are responsible for actually pumping the semen with enough force to give my load at least a fighting chance of reaching its intended destination were somewhat sore after having been subjected to such a vigorous first use. As far as I could figure, the only way I could assure myself of a pain-free future was to see that they received regular exercise, a promise I've managed to keep as often as possible.
That was back in 1961. I remember showing my newly-discovered pastime to my friends, some of whom found they, too, were capable of such a feat, while others had to wait a bit longer before they were finally ready to join us big boys.
Since then I've managed to enjoy myself in all sorts of settings, ranging from the roof of one of Chicago's most famous skyscrapers to a deserted mountaintop in California. I even managed to find the time to work in a bit of my favorite pastime while on an extended stretch of duty spent manning the remote transmitter site of a radio station in southern Nevada. Somehow being in the open air seems to have the effect of making me feel so incredibly horny, even the intense heat of summer in the desert wasn't enough to make me pass up an opportunity to indulge my fondness for whacking off outdoors.
But in spite of the intense pleasure I receive from the unrestricted freedom of beating my meat out in the open, while my naked body, rejuvenated by the gentle caress of a summer breeze, finds the strength needed to achieve one more climax, somehow it still manages to fall short of the intense sensation I experienced so many years before during the summer of '61 when I learned on my own the art of masturbation.