Stroking to History
I have always been a keen history buff. I was 12 years old, when I bought a book 'The Diary of Samuel Pepys'. This was the diary of a minor official in 17th century England. It provides a history of day to day life of that period.
It was a cold dreary winter night. I was down in the living room alone. I sat close to the open coal fire, dressed in my father's old pyjamas. Size was not a problem except for the fly, which tended to gap open. I opened the book and started to read.
It seems that Mr. Pepys had a very active sex life. His diary had an entry on his sexual antics almost every day. As I was reading the book I began to get really hard. This happened often, and would subside on it's own. Stimulated and distracted by the book. This time it didn't go away, and pre cum liquid was beginning to ooze out.
I was aware of a throbbing ache in my pelvis. This seemed to ease up if I massaged my hard cock. Distracted and excited by the book I kept on massaging it. Time passed, and after about twenty minutes I felt a strange throbbing in my penis. I came. Massive streams of white goo shot on to the carpet and rug. I was shocked, and panicked. Not about having discovered the joy of masturbation, but by the mess I had made. I had no experience at how to clean up the sticky cum.
I cleaned it up as best as I could and went to bed. Next day I was embarrassed to see small clumps of matted fibre on the rug, glued together with my cum. There was also some on the cloth we used to hold the steel poker. It seemed to me that those spots were visible for months. I don't know if my parents ever noticed it, or wanted to save me from embarrassment.
I have masturbated almost daily for forty years now. Ten years ago I found a woman who actually likes to watch me do it. Although we have a rich and varied sex life, masturbation is part of our long love making sessions.
The only problem is that she can't masturbate in front of me. She learned to do it on her tummy to hide her actions. For some reason she just can't do it. But we are working on it. Maybe I'll have a follow up story later.
It was a cold dreary winter night. I was down in the living room alone. I sat close to the open coal fire, dressed in my father's old pyjamas. Size was not a problem except for the fly, which tended to gap open. I opened the book and started to read.
It seems that Mr. Pepys had a very active sex life. His diary had an entry on his sexual antics almost every day. As I was reading the book I began to get really hard. This happened often, and would subside on it's own. Stimulated and distracted by the book. This time it didn't go away, and pre cum liquid was beginning to ooze out.
I was aware of a throbbing ache in my pelvis. This seemed to ease up if I massaged my hard cock. Distracted and excited by the book I kept on massaging it. Time passed, and after about twenty minutes I felt a strange throbbing in my penis. I came. Massive streams of white goo shot on to the carpet and rug. I was shocked, and panicked. Not about having discovered the joy of masturbation, but by the mess I had made. I had no experience at how to clean up the sticky cum.
I cleaned it up as best as I could and went to bed. Next day I was embarrassed to see small clumps of matted fibre on the rug, glued together with my cum. There was also some on the cloth we used to hold the steel poker. It seemed to me that those spots were visible for months. I don't know if my parents ever noticed it, or wanted to save me from embarrassment.
I have masturbated almost daily for forty years now. Ten years ago I found a woman who actually likes to watch me do it. Although we have a rich and varied sex life, masturbation is part of our long love making sessions.
The only problem is that she can't masturbate in front of me. She learned to do it on her tummy to hide her actions. For some reason she just can't do it. But we are working on it. Maybe I'll have a follow up story later.
Posted on: 2004-07-10 00:00:00 |
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