My Life as a Masturbator

I began masturbating at 13 when I watched my cousin spew a load of thick semen onto his belly. I could not believe what I saw. How did he do that? Did it hurt? I could not even begin to think about jerking off in front of him. I was too self-conscious.

Later that summer, Russ and I were exploring a building site and found a crawl space we could sit in. He pulled out some folded photos from Playboy and showed them to me. We were sitting together, backs against the block wall. He also pulled out his cock and began to stroke it as he studied the photos. He told me to look at the picture he was holding as it was really hot. When I leaned over to see, he pulled my head down toward his cock and told me to suck it.

He was stronger than I and I felt the hot bulb on my face even as I squirmed to get away. He laughed at being able to rough me up like that and tossed me a few of the images to look at. I had not yet jerked off but I had a raging erection. Again, Russ orgasmed and showed me the white cream that landed on his stomach, over his fist, and on his pants.

Looking back, I was not disgusted with his cock in my face. It was actually exciting to be that close to feel its heat. What I did not like was Russ grabbing me and forcing me. I often wonder how things would have gone for me had we just explored a bit more, had he encouraged me to slip my pants down and to stroke along with him. That day in the crawl space of the building we explored is fixed in my memory. How the cool air was a relief from the summer heat. How I liked feeling Russ’s hot cock against the skin on my face.

A few weeks later that summer, my friend Clyde and I were looking at his dad's Playboy stash and he fished out his cock. It was a long and strong pole rising from a deep thatch of hair. There it stood waving around outside his jeans. It had such a full mushroom head on top of a great looking shaft. He began to stroke it and I could not take my eyes off him.

Again, I could not manage to expose my own cock, even though it was straining. I didn't so much look at the magazine as use it for cover so I could continue to watch him stroke. When he came, it was not a lot and did not require much cleanup for him. He just smiled at me when he saw me watching. He must have liked having someone watch him. I sure enjoyed watching him.

More than 50 years later, I can still conjure that image of Clyde sitting across from me working his cock. More often as I recall it, I see myself leaning over and taking him in my mouth. I would have been horrified of that thought back then. Today I lament that I did not try. The same with my cousin Russ. I had a chance to take a cock in my mouth. The danger was so much less then than it would be now. All youthful exploration.

I've gone through lots of phases in more than 50 years of masturbation. I have fixated on breasts and nipples, asses and pussy lips. Peter North is still amazing to watch in old videos. The first time I saw Nina Hartley’s ass get eaten made me shoot a blast high enough to sail over my head, and a spurt later landed on my lips.

Now lately I enjoy watching men stroke outdoors. I like to be naked outdoors and stroke one out. Don't get much opportunity to do that, but being seen or watching someone else jerk off is a real turn on.

I love the idea of taking a man in my mouth. I like videos of men blowing other men, imagining what that must feel like to perform. And what it would be like to have hot cum shoot onto my face.

I age myself that I think women look best with a full bush, nicely trimmed, the way those Playboy models looked. I like to think they knew behind the camera lens was a guy who was gliding his hand along an aching cock looking at them looking back at him.

Never been a fan of implants. I prefer small natural breasts. Hard nipples are artwork in my mind. Being circumcised myself, I prefer cut cocks. There is something lovely about the way the shaft rises to meet the curves of a man's crown. I want to feel it slide across my face, feel it as I run my lips up and down the shaft and then to slide it in my mouth. I have to settle for a lifelike dildo.

I wear a cock ring I made myself. Either a brass one or a dense plastic one. It sits right behind my crown, nestled there, staying on whether I am hard or soft. I like seeing it and enjoy knowing that I am the only one in the room who knows I am wearing it. I also like a silicone band encircling my balls and cock. The slight tension reminds me of years ago when I had to relived a constant complaint of blue balls.