Aching for a Second Round

If you've read my first story, you know just how excited I was to finally discover what masturbating was all about.  I had been looking at my dad's Playboys for years and getting erections; I had spent as much time as possible being as naked as possible whenever possible--but finally discovering what "masturbation" actually was, was the best Saturday morning I think I'd had in my life until then. But then... the wait.  The anticipation. The building up of frustration and desire set in.... you see, only my dad was working at the time.  My mom and older brother were also in the house and neither of them were working--and it was a Saturday, so *everyone* was home.  I had a bedroom door, of course, but I almost never closed it because it would make my room too cold.  I was so thrilled with my new discovery that I wanted to watch my penis as I masturbated, so I didn't want to do it at night in the dark.  Plus, I'd read enough about cum to worry about how to hide it if and when it did, finally, "cum" out. The only chance I could think of was my Saturday evening bath.  I was only in the beginning of puberty, so I wasn't yet at the point of needing to bathe or shower daily.  I spent the entire day in a mental haze, only contemplating getting my (now, recurring almost hourly!) erection back into my hand.  What I did to while away the time, I have no idea! The evening came and I couldn't wait to get into the bathroom.  I had an erection for at least 15-20 minutes before I finally got into the bathroom, where I quickly stripped naked.  My erection was staring straight up at me, beckoning me to grab him. And grab him I did, as soon as I started the water for my bath to help mask any sounds I might make. I deliberately turned the faucet on at a much slower rate than I normally would have.  The feelings of intense pleasure took over just as they had that morning, but maybe even just a little bit stronger.  The pulsing, the throbbing, the waves of rapture up and down my teenage erection and the feeling throughout my groin was incredible.  I was staring down at my cock as my hand rapidly worked up and down the shaft.  Within just a few moments (before the bathtub could fill--I was having to, as they say, "git 'er done!"), I felt what I now knew was my orgasm building.  With a series of pulses and throbs, my penis now rewarded me with a few small dribbles of a white, opaque liquid... I had cum!  Fascinated with what my penis had just given me, I used my fingertip to swipe some of the cum off my now-drooping penis and quickly smelled, then tasted, it.  I can't say I liked or disliked it, but I found the taste and consistency vastly different from anything else I'd ever tasted.  Although I didn't immediately decide I had to taste it again, I turned off the water and sank into the hot water, incredibly relaxed but still incredibly horny.  Unsurprisingly, my mind had already started plotting out my next opportunity to masturbate.  Unfortunately, my memory doesn't serve me well enough to remind of me the next time or time after that--but there have been a lot!