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Strange Places

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When I was a kid I had the urge to masturbate often, and would seek ways to do it, regardless of where I was. Here are a few examples.
When I was young, my normal way of doing it was to rub on something, like humping my bed or pillow. But when I had to be inventive, I was. In grammar school, I think third or fourth grade, I sometimes got the urge while in class. I sat in the last row, so I could do some things without being seen, as long as I was discrete. Sometimes I'd rest my hand in my crotch, gently playing with my penis through my pants. I often didn't have underwear on (see my earlier post, 'Commando Adventures'), so I only had one layer of cloth between my fingers and penis. I could hold my hard little member between my thumb and forefinger, and roll it back and forth slowly. If I could do that for about 10 minutes, I would have a crashing orgasm that left me weak and tired, but happy. One time I did it three times, about an hour apart. But my fun ended that day when my teacher pulled me aside after school and told me that my 'playing with myself' was getting our of control. She didn't mind me doing it now and then, but she had seen me doing it three times that day, and that I should not do that. I was totally embarrassed, and surprised that she had seen me, probably every single time. So I stopped doing it in class, except several times when we had a substitute teacher, who was too busy keeping control of the class to notice what I was doing in the back. Or if she did, she was probably just happy that I was quiet.
In 7th grade, we had a pretty big library. For study hall, we had the choice of going to the cafeteria to study, or the library. I always went to the library. One of the benefits were the study carrels (sp?) at the end of the long racks of books. There was one in the corner that was well hidden, so that I could see anyone approaching, but could not be seen from the main part of the library. I used to go back there and set up shop. Often I'd get a health book to help me along. I found every book in the library that mentioned the word 'masturbation,' and there were several. One of my favorites was one that described how in some island cultures children were allowed to masturbate in public without stigma, and it was a common practice to see little kids rubbing themselves to climax while engaged in routine play around the village. I must have read that book hundreds of times, with my hand wrapped around my penis in ecstasy. I always had a paper towel to clean up with, and didn't get much studying done during that 50 minute period!
Then one day I noticed some noise at the next study carrel on the other side of the rack of books. I found that if I leaned down, I could see the boy sitting there. He was my age and in several of my classes. I was surprised to see he was doing the same as I was, masturbating while reading a book that I was familiar with. I watched him as he stroked himself under the table, and how he tensed, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth wide as he came. Like me, he cleaned up with a paper towel, and just tossed it into the trash can beside the table. After he left, I went over and pulled the towel out of the trash can and took it back to my spot, feeling the dampness and sniffing the strong smell of fresh semen as I masturbated. Unlike him, though, I always deposited my towels in the trash container in the boys room so it would be less obvious. I was afraid that if a librarian found it, she'd know what was going on and bust me for it.
Like many boys, I'd masturbate in the boys bathroom at school.
One of my best spots was in my seat on the train that I used to take sometimes to see my relatives in New York. I would put my coat over me and pretend to sleep, but instead I'd be working my penis under my coat. I don't think anyone ever knew what I was doing, though I had a close call when a man sat down next to me just as I was ejaculating. I had to cover up my activities very carefully, but luckily train seats are wide, so I was able to get wiped up and zipped up fairly quickly.
One place I remember with fondness was the back of our family station wagon. My parents would let me make a place to lay down to take naps when on long trips. I would make a place behind the big luggage so my sister, who was in the back seat, couldn't see me. Sometimes I had a light blanket with me, so I'd get under it, but sometimes I didn't. Usually I'd pull my pants down and hump my pillow like I did in bed. I didn't need to pull my pants down to do it, but I always liked it better that way. I would usually lay on the floor of the car for a while, letting the road vibration get me hard and aroused, and when I was ready, pull my pants down and go to it. On really long drives I might do that four or five times. It made the ride seem to go faster. I knew that truck drivers could see me when we passed them on the interstate, but I didn't care, since I'd never see them again, and it was kind of exciting to know they could see me. Sometimes I'd lay on my back with my pants down and my penis in my hand, watching the expression on the truckers' faces when they saw me. They'd almost always smile and wave, and some would give the universal hand motion for masturbation. I think some of them enjoyed the view, as they'd speed up so they could see me longer. I guess I was showing off, but it was fun. I think I first did this when I was 8, and did it for five or six years.



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