Learning to Stroke

Learning to Stroke by Anonymous I am amazed to read stories about people who learned to masturbate at ayoung age. I was fifteen, fully developed and suffering from all toofrequent wet dreams because I couldn't figure out how to properlymasturbate. Then I really learned how to stroke. This was about twentyyears ago. I first heard about masturbation when I was about 12. Our junior highhealth instructors talked about "masturbation" and defined it as "playingwith your genitals." They said that everyone does it, and that doing itdoesn't make you a pervert. In junior high, I hadn't developed yet andwondered if searching for pubic hairs on my balls would qualify as"playing." I wasn't quite sure what "playing with your genitals" meant. Guys always talked about "wacking off," and I took this literally to meanthat they hit their dicks. I tried this a little sometime before Ideveloped, but decided that it wasn't particularly fun. It didn't occur tome that I could be abnormal because I didn't enjoy "wacking off." Althoughthe health teachers told us it was normal, the other guys joked around andaccused each other of doing it. No one admitted to masturbating. Later, when I was about fourteen and starting high school, I unexpectedlysaw my dick reflected in the mirror when I was getting out of the shower athome. I realized that I was fully developed. Prior to this I was having(typical) frequent hard-ons, but had no idea that I was man-sized yet. Iwas suddenly proud to know that I measured up, and wasn't so shy whilechanging for P.E. I also joined the cross-country team freshman year and had a great season.I think I started having wet dreams around this time. Again I tried hittingmy dick, "wacking off." I still found it not particularly pleasurable. Ienjoyed pressing it or squeezing it more than hitting it, and wondered whyit wasn't called "pressing off." I couldn't squeeze or press myself to anorgasm, and only "came" when I was having a wet dream. This went on forover a year. Sophomore year I made the varsity cross country team. Only one othersophomore was on the varsity team, my buddy Turk. Turk had psoriasis orsome other skin problem and always carried moisturizer in his bag. One dayit fell out the bag as the team was changing and the juniors and seniorsstarted throwing it around and teasing Turk about how he must "stroke off"all the time, and someone made the "empty fist" and stroked in front ofTurk's face. Suddenly I realized how to masturbate. It was as if a light went off in my head, and I grew a raging boner thatwouldn't go down. Fortunately I was already changed into my sweats. Myerections usually stand almost parallel to my stomach, so I hid it as wellas I could by bunching my sweats in the front and wearing my t-shirtuntucked. I tried to think of something else to get my mind off my bone,but it was impossible with the team throwing Turk's moisturizer around andyelling "stroker," "jacker," and "wacker" at him. Finally the coach told usto go out and start running. Even after we started running, my erection wouldn't go down. I told theguys that I forgot something at home and said I would meet them later. Ichanged course for home and prayed that no one from my family would bethere. I got home and the house was empty. My grandfather, who lived with us atthe time, must have been out walking or something and my brother and sisterwere probably at friends' houses. Mom and Dad were at work. Themasturbation gods had done me a favor that afternoon. I ran upstairs to the bathroom and stripped down to my socks and shoes. Mydick was pointing at the ceiling, and my face and chest were already brightred from the run home. I got some hand lotion and put it on both hands andstarted two-fisted "stroking." It was the greatest feeling. It was liketouching steel encased in velvet, and when I stroked to the base, or hitthe ridge of my dick head, I would feel a shiver run from my balls to thetips of my hands, feet and head. My orgasm came quickly. I knew when I was about to explode. I had alreadyhad about a million wet dreams, so I was familiar with the feeling. Ipointed my dick as far down toward the sink as I could, and tried to aim toshoot my jiz where it would be easy to clean up. I was already oversix-feet tall, and had to bend my knees and lean into the sink counter toget anywhere near my target. The downward pressure on my straining dick made the orgasm incredible. Iwas fighting with my rock hard tool to keep it pointed toward the sink,rather than the ceiling and my own chest. I shot like a fire hose, and hitthe mirror about three times, the counter a few times more, the waterfaucet, and drain lever until finally the last couple of contractions shotmy semen onto the back of the sink. I don't know how I managed to remainstanding. After I finished cumming, I sank to the floor holding my dick. Ishuddered again and shot once more against the cabinet doors before my dickstarted to deflate slowly. I must have sat on the cold tile for about five minutes before I got up andcleaned the bathroom. I washed the moisturizer off my hands and dick, whichwas bright red and incredibly sensitive. Washing it with suds and watercaused me to have a little soft orgasm with no ejaculate. I dried off,dressed and hurried out to catch up with the team. I never found them onthe road, so I ran back to school alone. Some of the team members hadalready returned and were stretching. The guys commented on how red my facewas, and how I must have really been "running hard." I thought for sure that they knew, that they were teasing me. I figuredthat they used the words "running hard" because they saw my erectionearlier. I was new to masturbation and probably a complete idiot. I figuredit was obvious to anyone who masturbated what someone looks like afterjacking to orgasm. So, I admitted to them that I had run home and "strokedoff" in the middle of practice. When I told them this, they were obviouslysurprised because they exploded in laughter. I got ribbed for the rest ofpractice about "wacking." I may have been blushing, but my face was alreadyso red that no one could tell. In the shower later, the guys pointed at my dick and yelled at me to notstart stroking it again. "We know you want to touch it! DON'T touch it." Acouple of the guys even grabbed their softies and wagged them at me saying"DON'T." From then on, whenever I had a red face someone would accuse me of"stroking off." I decided that to avoid embarrassment part of the time Ishould admit to it when I had masturbated. I was a typical horny teen andthis meant that I admitted to masturbating just about every day. Ideveloped a reputation on the cross country team for masturbating. Everymorning when I met the guys from the team, someone would ask me if I hadjacked in the last twelve hours or so. Sometimes one of the guys wouldadmit that he had "stroked his meat" that morning, but no one was as honestand open as I became about it that year. I qualified for the state championship that season. At state the seniorskept joking about how more sophomores would have made the varsity team ifthey masturbated as much as I did.