My first experiments in bed.
When I was at school in a London suburb we used to go on cross-country runs, which in this case meant around a few lakes in the local park. At the age of 14 I wore a rather flimsy pair of white shorts with an elasticized waist, and nothing underneath. This meant that as I ran, my developing penis rubbed against the cotton material and sometimes became very big. My friend Peter drew attention to this, and one day asked to see what it looked like, so I pulled out the waist band and let him look inside my shorts. My cock really did look quite enormous, and seemed to swell even more at the thought of him seeing it.
One day we were walking home from school, wheeling our bikes, when Peter suddenly asked 'Do you toss off?'. As I had heard that expression before, and had already started having wet dreams, I said yes, but it soon became clear that he had something else in mind when he asked 'How do you do it?' Although I was 14, I had no idea that one could make oneself ejaculate-it had just never occurred to me. He then explained what he did, using one of the handlebar grips to show how to move one's hand on one's penis. He said, 'You get a tense feeling which gradually builds up, and you feel you can't stop but must go on. Then the feeling gets more and more exciting, and you feel all warm down there-and then it all comes.' This last phrase I found very exciting, and I couldn't wait for bedtime that night.
However, I had never really handled my cock very much, and felt rather nervous about it. So I pulled down my pajamas under the bedclothes, and rather gingerly started a small massage movement with two fingers on the fleshy part of my penis, about halfway along its length. I should add that I am circumcised. I just carried on moving the flesh to and fro, as a wonderfully exciting sensation began to spread out from my crotch. My penis felt tighter and tighter, as if an arrow were being drawn back on a bow-just like an extremely tight length of string. After some minutes, I realised that, as Peter had said, there was no question of stopping. I just had to go on, even though it felt as if the string would break.
Then there was an all-consuming surge of fruity warmth, and a sudden pulsating, pumping sensation, as if a string actually had broken. It was different from the unexpected throbs of a wet dream. I realized that this was the moment when 'it all comes,' and that I was uncontrollably pumping on to my tummy several jets of sperm, or 'spunk', as it was called in those days.
I lay for several minutes breathing heavily, as I recovered from the experience, only to find a lot of sticky mess on my pajama top.
Having written this, I wonder if you girls who will read it, feel glad that you can give yourselves pleasure without making such a mess. Or whether you wish that you too could experience jets of sticky fluid shooting out of you, as you achieve the moment of highest pleasure? Please comment on this in the appropriate section.
Later, I will write what Peter and I did together in later weeks.