Boyhood Memories

Category: Male-Male (MM)
Submitted by: Mick Age: 64 Gender: Male

This all happened between the ages of 6 and 12. Have only discovered Solo Touch recently. It's a great site and I've had many a wank on the nostalgic stories of first experiences.

As a child -- an only son -- whose father had left when I was a toddler, I was pretty lonely. I was fat and singularly unattractive; definitely non-sporty. I didn't even have the academic ability to be considered bright, winning my place at grammar school via interview -- the most borderline of borderline cases -- one of the last four from my primary school to get in. This was in September 1956.
We lived in a first-floor flat, my mother, elder sister (three years older and subsequently bossy!) and me. A friend of the family came and lodged with us and I suppose his contribution to the rent must have helped. It allowed my mother to work away from home -- where she eventually met my step-father -- so that our lodger looked after us once he returned from work. My sister and I thus became latch-key kids and were 'home-alone' for two hours every night. I had just started grammar school at this time. We only saw our mother at weekends during this period. Of course, my sister would visit friends and suchlike; the last thing she wanted was to be stuck at home for two hours with an annoying little brother.
At a very early age, perhaps 6 or 7, I had a perverse fascination with urine, or wee-wee as we children called it, but somehow the perennial game of seeing who could pee the highest or furthest, so beloved of eight-year olds, passed me by. The nearest I came to any kind of lavatorial misbehaviour was when, aged about nine, I would visit the loo for a 'sit down'. In those days loo paper was that really rough variety -- brands such as 'Bronco', not noted for its kindness to young bottoms -- so absorbent qualities were absent. I would sit idly on the lavatory and wrap a sheet of this paper round my index finger, folding it in such a way as to construct a small paper 'test-tube'. I then inserted my little willy into the tube and weed. Once having filled it, I would empty it down the bowl, and repeat the exercise until the tube would no longer hold the golden liquid, all the time musing on how that little bag beneath my penis could contain so much fluid! I did not know much about the workings of the human body. No-one had told me about testicles but I knew I had a bladder -- somewhere, which stored the golden waste -- so it seemed logical to assume that this bag beneath my penis was the bladder!
I suppose the 'naughtiest' things I ever did was when I conceived the notion of weeing into my father's Boxing Cup! ...And on another occasion when I stuck my finger up my bottom and offered it to my older sister to sniff. I should think I must have been about seven or eight at this time, and I probably got into serious trouble for both these 'offences'!
I also remained completely oblivious to all forms of other 'rudeness' although, as I mention later, I do recall being much thrilled when observing a little girl wetting herself in class at my first primary school

Primary School Years

My first stirrings of an erotic nature can perhaps be traced to one incident, which I recall quite clearly, although I could not have expressed it like that at the time. I would have been about eleven years old, but I may have been younger. Our first floor flat overlooked the gardens of several other houses, and the rear gardens of an adjacent street backed on to our street's gardens, forming an acute angle. I clearly remember looking out of our window across the gardens and observing in the window opposite, a boy who was probably aged between seven and ten. He was standing on his windowsill in the shape of a star, pressed against the glass, and he was stark naked. That sight must have impressed me deeply for me to remember it so markedly. In the 70s, whilst I was walking down a road in Leicester one evening, I saw another boy, aged about ten, doing the very same thing. I was nearer this time and could observe his little-boy genitals pressed tightly against the glass.
Like both Grammar schools that I later attended, my second Primary school was -- apart from the infants' department -- an all-boys' establishment, and at age 9, I became aware of another thrilling experience -- watching my classmates being spanked on their nearly bare bottoms!
I was in Mr N's class. The old boy had quite a ritual for spanking us. Once he had singled out an unfortunate 'victim', he would ask the lad to fetch the punishment stool, which was just the right height on which to place his foot, thus creating a 'horse' over which the luckless boy would have to bend. Before this however, Mr Nichols would remove his jacket and hang it neatly over the back of his chair. This was followed by his watch, carefully placed on his desk. All this the class would watch, wide-eyed and agog with anticipation. Onto the stool would go the master's left foot and over would go the boy. With his left hand, Mr N would reach over and clutch the hem of the boy's short trouser leg. He would then yank this up as far as it would go, so as to expose the lad's right buttock. If the shorts were loose enough, one might even catch a glimpse of his cleft. There followed a deluge of stinging slaps on the naked buttock, until the boy was blubbing with remorse for whatever 'crime' he had committed. The awestruck class were simultaneously terrified, thrilled and excited by this demonstration. My little willy must have gone very stiff at this spectacle, but I have no recollection of this. Although I was never punished in this manner, witnessing several such spankings had a profound effect on me, judging by my own predilection with bare bottom spankings.

Sex at My First Grammar School (1)

I discovered masturbation at the age of twelve. I suppose I must have been approaching that age when I remember experiencing three 'peculiar dreams' (nocturnal dry climaxes), in one of which, I was vigorously spanking a little girl's naked bottom -- who may very well have been the same girl that I had seen wetting herself in class when I was about 7. I don't remember much about these dreams except that I experienced the most exquisite sensations I had ever encountered. I was mystified as to how I could repeat that ecstatic thrill.
I did not have to wait too long to discover the magical key to that exciting feeling of a few months earlier. My chance came during a science lesson as old 'Smiler' was droning on about something boring, covering the blackboard with incomprehensible symbols. I felt a nudge, and turning, I found my pal Noel directing my gaze towards his crotch where, in the shadow of the lab bench, his flies were undone and his little hairless penis lay exposed. "Get yours out", he suggested. I hesitated. This was relatively new to me.
I say 'relatively' as I remember it was only the previous day that I had been equally amazed in the History lesson when I was trying to borrow a rubber. I wandered to the rear of the class and came across Tony and his mate, both with their erect penises out. I had never before seen another boy's penis swollen and stiff like this. Their nobs were big and red and Tony, clutching his in his fist, had pointed it at me in the manner of a shotgun and said, "Get away, or I'll blast yer!"
I asked, incredulously, "What are you doing?"
"Wanking!" came the inevitable reply.
"What's 'wanking'?" I had enquired dumbfounded, and was vaguely irritated when my question had been greeted with a stifled laugh of contempt. I adjudged, from the positions of their occupants' hands, that the same activity was going on behind other desks along the back row. I returned to my seat none the wiser, and annoyed at the conspiratorial and scornful attitude of my classmates.
Now, on the following day, Noel was inviting my participation in what I perceived to be the same secret activity -- 'wanking'. Slowly I unbuttoned my flies and uncovered my soft, circumcised cock. Uncertain of what to do, I watched Noel intently, as he manipulated his foreskin up and down. He was generally toying and fiddling with his until it stiffened. Inexpertly, I followed his same general actions and mine, too became erect. I'd experienced erections before, and had never understood why my penis did that. I continued stroking it when suddenly, - Eureka! I'd found that elusive secret -- that same ecstatic and exquisite sensation that I'd felt during those 'funny' dreams. The whole of my groin area became a focal point of intense delight. The feeling seemed to encompass my whole being, producing the most blissful and thrilling excitement I'd ever known. If anything, it was better than before. What a wonderful way to achieve such heavenly and inexpensive pleasure!
It would afford me hours of enjoyment in days -- and indeed years -- to come.
My initiation in the science lab under Noel's watchful gaze didn't end with my first waking orgasm. I noticed some transparent sticky liquid drooling from the end of my cock.
"That's spunk!" my twelve-year-old mentor averred.
I was thrilled, even if I had no idea what spunk was! My elation turned to fear however as I noticed some reddish spots that had appeared on the shaft, just beneath the glans and a purple patch had appeared on the head itself. Again, Noel cast his expert eye on my softening tool. He finally declared,
"You've got the Pox!"
I was terrified. Again, I didn't know what 'the pox' was, but to have caught it so suddenly, and 'down there'; it must have been something awful and shameful, and must be somehow connected with wanking. No wonder my mother had frequently admonished me whenever my hands had wandered crotchwards!
"Take your hands away from there!" she'd scold. It's a wonder that I ever persevered with the solitary vice!
It was doubly worrying, as that night was bath night. Somehow, I had to prevent my mother from seeing the tell-tale signs. Fortunately, I managed my ablutions without any maternal interruptions, and within a few days, the spots and purple mark had disappeared as mysteriously as they had materialised.
Having discovered the elusive secret of the orgasm, sex was all I could think about. I hardly missed a day without a wank, although it was a while before I realised that the clear, sticky fluid so readily called 'spunk' by Noel, was not actually the real thing. At school, I got in on the fringe of Tony's group. There were between four and six of us, and at lunchtime, we'd go to some nearby woods or to the secluded corner of the games-field, screened by some bushes. There, the careful observer would have seen several healthy young cocks being vigorously massaged. We were what a teacher, in the TV drama Made in England described as a 'wanking gang' as opposed to a 'randy gang', whose main activity -- apparently -- was "chasing little girls across the playing field in the hope of getting a smelly finger." As we were at an all-boys' school, this latter was never going to happen.
The games-field corner was bounded on the other side by an iron fence and a rough track. Anyone passing along the path would have had a clear and unobscured view of what we were up to, so we had to keep a whether eye open for intruders. On one occasion, three girls from a neighbouring school came along, and Tony, cock in hand, moved towards the fence, almost offering it to them!
"It's alright," Tony said, "I won't fuck ya stiff!"
I was amazed at his brazenness. The girls squealed and ran off. They would have been about 13 or 14. Tony was unashamed with his use of bad language; I remember during a conversation about girls' private parts, how Tony told us that his little brother, 11 yr old Michael, referred to a girl's vagina as a 'little c**tus'. Very few boys that I knew in those days ever used the 'F' and 'C' words, so Tony & his brother seemed daring and forbidden, and thus alluring company.
On another occasion, in the depths of a typical south coast winter, four of us went during the lunch break to a wooded area a short distance from school. There had been a recent snowfall, but this did not deter us from producing our penises once we had penetrated the flora beyond prying eyes. No sooner had I exposed myself, one of the others rammed a fistful of snow all over my genitals! That killed off any urge I had to go further. It's funny, but we always seemed to use that word 'urge', to indicate randiness, as in - "I've really got 'The Urge' today", or some such-like to indicate an erection. I don't recall anyone saying, "I really feel 'horny' today."
I took every opportunity to see other boys' genitals or see them in the nude. Jamie and I would go to the 'bogs' and lock ourselves in a cubicle. Then we would undo our trousers and drop our trousers and underpants, lifting our shirts up to our armpits. The feel of another boy's hand on my rampant, hairless little cock and mine on his was simply electrifying. Jamie's was quite a bit bigger than mine, with a big bell-end. We were both circumcised and I enjoyed the smooth feel of his purple cockhead. Jamie too used to expose himself in the science lab, and once, for a dare, walked the entire length of the school main corridor with his erect penis out! He did have his satchel over it, but anyone could have jostled him en route and his cover would have been blown. Jamie was a bit of a twonk, but he went up in my estimation after that.

Introduction to Eros

About the time I had turned twelve, my mother extended the hospitality of our two-bedroom flat to some friends of hers -- a married couple and their four children: three boys aged ten, eight and six and a toddler sister.
The new family all lived in the one room. I distinctly remember sitting on the end of my bed with the lights out, peering through the crack in the door and thrilling to the sight of the three boys scampering naked down the passage to the bathroom and back. I cannot begin to describe the excitement I felt at the sight of their nude bodies, with their tiny penises bobbling about. I did not understand why I experienced a strong erection whilst observing them. We began playing together; the favourite game (my suggestion of course!) being 'school'. I was the teacher; they my pupils, and of course I took great delight in spanking the two younger ones in the manner witnessed at my primary school, on as many 'trumped up' charges as my fertile imagination could conjure up! I never smacked them hard of course, but I did derive considerable pleasure from having my hand on their bare bottoms -- or at least as much bare bottom as I could expose in the customary manner. We were caught at this 'game' once and gently discouraged from playing it again.
This wasn't such a disaster for me though, as the eldest -- Roy -- had started coming into my room on a Saturday morning, and climbing into bed with me. Our 'games in bed' became explorations of each other's body.
After my recent discovery in school under the lab bench, I couldn't wait to share the secret of the orgasm with Roy. On one of our Saturday morning sessions I said, fully intending to wank him off,
"Do you know what we do in school?"
"No, what do you do?" Roy asked.
I hesitated. I desperately wanted to show him how to masturbate, but I hadn't forgotten his indiscretion when he had related to his younger brother -- the eight-year old Johnny -- how we had such 'smashing fun in the mornings playing with each other's willy!' I therefore stopped short of rubbing him, and just squeezed his testicles quite hard, simulating our ball-grabbing activities. Had I thought, Roy's comment to his brother about our 'playing with willies' had already let the cat out of the bag. A full-blown wank would have been little more than a variation on a theme.
We did develop a great game though; seeing who could pull each other's pyjama bottoms off first. Of course, the struggles we each put up against our opponent's efforts were negligible and it wasn't long before both sets of pyjama bottoms were round our ankles. We devised new thrills for our games. Our tiny penises became erect almost as soon as Roy clambered into bed, so we lost no time in groping and fondling each other's privates. Roy's innovative notion was that we 'do a wee-wee' over one another. First Roy lay on his back with me kneeling up straddling him. Pointing my 'little man' -- as my mother called it -- towards Roy's tummy, I sprayed a few spurts of golden fluid to fill his belly button and wet his genitals. Roy then took his turn to send a cascade of urine over me, which splashed over my thighs, soaking my tiny testicles. We had to be extremely careful not to wet the bed too much! The naughtiness of what we were doing was exciting. If anyone had come into the room, we would have been caught red-handed -- or bare-arsed! I suppose the risk was part of the thrill. We wrestled some more, which resulted in Roy playfully biting my bare bum! On reflection, given our inventiveness, I don't know why we never conceived of the notion of putting our penises in each other's mouth, but I had yet to discover the wider delights of fleshly pursuits.
(Lots more to come - if folk are interested)

[lb][i]This story was originally submitted to Solo Touch and not published because it violates the rules.[/i][rb]