It happened when I was 14 years old. I had been getting erections for as long as I could remember, and had, alone and with friends, practiced auto-eroticism, either by stroking or by rubbing against pillows, but without orgasm. It was fun and not particularly frustrating, and I thought it was all there was to sex. I was wrong.
My mother, who was a very enlightened woman (especially considering she was born in the very early 1900s) had something of a sixth sense and she was also very aware that I was into puberty. One evening, as I was drying off from my bath, she suggested very matter-of-factly, 'Why don't you just lie down on the bed to dry off?'
'What? Lie on the bed naked?' I was sort of stunned.
'Sure,' she said, matter-of-factly. She then walked off down the hall.
'Well, I suppose I could give it a try,' I said to myself, although I couldn't see reason for it.
So I went to my bedroom and lay down naked on top of the covers. After a few minutes, I had to admit that it was relaxing to just lie there and sort of air-dry, and the soft velvet of my coverlet felt good against my skin. It wasn't long before I entered into a sort of trance-like state and, as I had done many times before, I started stroking my fingertips over my body, especially my chest and stomach. The natural result of this was that my penis started to engorge with blood. It wasn't long before I was fully erect, and when I looked down my penis was pointed directly at my face.
Almost unconsciously, I wrapped my right hand around my penis and started to stroke myself by moving the skin up and down. It felt good, so I kept on stroking. Soon some liquid oozed from the tip, but I kept on. Slowly, unconsciously, I speeded up.
I don't know how long I pumped, but after a while I passed the point of no return. I was now pumping as fast as I could move my hand and gripping my penis in an iron grip. I threw my head back, panting, pumping with every ounce of energy I possessed. I had no idea what was coming next, but I wanted it with all my being. If my mother, father, and sister had walked in on me at that moment, I couldn't have stopped.
I felt my testicles draw up tight between my legs, and every muscle in my body was tensed. Then it came. I arched my back and continued pumping as wave after wave of spasms racked my body and my penis jerked and jerked in my hand as I pumped streams of come onto my chest.
Finally, that first orgasm ended and I sank back on the bed. It took a few minutes to catch my breath. I glanced at the door (which I had never closed) to make sure no one was watching (no one was, thank goodness), and then looked down over my chest to see that my whole body was covered with red splotches and there was a white, sticky fluid all over my stomach and chest.
As soon as I could move, I grabbed a T-shirt from my dresser and wiped myself off, pulled on a pair of shorts, and fell asleep almost immediately.
Reflecting back over the years, I'm sure my mother's suggestion was to get me started masturbating, and, needless to say, that was the first (and probably the best) of many. Nearly 50 years later I still enjoy a good stroke.