Ever since I’ve been sexually active, masturbation has always been my sort of ‘x-factor.’ I love masturbation, often times, more than I even love having sex, and it’s not just my masturbation that I love. I am very straight in my relationships, only interested in sex and connection with women, and I’m fiercely loyal in those relationships; I have no drive to cheat. However, masturbation is the exception as I don’t really even look at it as ‘sex’ or something for lovers only. To me it’s a bodily need that we all do and can enjoy a lot more together. I’ll gladly masturbate with and enjoy the masturbation of women, men, anyone. I love watching others engaged in this primal, animalistic need that we all share - feeing their sexual energy and knowing that they are focused only on feeling good in that moment. To me: it’s an activity best shared and that I am very open about.
I know that this is not the ‘common’ view on the matter (company on this website and others like it aside) and that I am likely much more comfortable in my self love than others. Often though, I find myself asking, why? Why am I so masturbation positive, so open about it and willing to share it with others? Why is it more of a bonding and a social activity in my eyes than a purely sexual one - only for private and for lovers like so many others view it?
Then I think back to my earliest masturbation memories, and perhaps it makes a lot of sense.
I was born in the 80s but really grew up in the 90s when pop culture and society in general was in quite a ‘push the boundaries,’ ‘sex everything up’ kind of phase. By high school, even junior high, low waisted pants with thongs hanging out were the norm on all of my female classmates and raunchy films like American Pie were making sexuality and objectification every-day discussion. Even prior to that though, as early as my elementary school years, my friends and I were sneaking behind our parents’ backs to watch shows like Beavis and Butthead and early Southpark; both of which introduced the ideas of sex and terms like ‘stiffy’ and ‘spanking the monkey’ into our vocabularies. So between ‘the times,’ a few basic sex ed classes in school, and a book about puberty my parents had bought me and my brother - I had the basic idea of masturbation in my head easily by my preteen years.
However, how it actually worked and what would actually happen as a result of it wasn’t so clear to me until I was around 13 years-old - I don’t remember exactly which age, but somewhere in that ballpark.
It was summer break from school and most of my days were spent home alone with my brother who’s 2 years older than me. My dad worked full time and my mom had gone back to full time a couple of years prior figuring, especially during summer break and days off, my brother was a teenager and old enough to be in charge during the day while they were gone. Besides that, we were both pretty responsible, low risk kids who rarely got in trouble and could be trusted not to burn down the house during the day. For the most part this had worked fine and my brother and I had spent the last couple of summers watching movies, playing video games, and riding our bikes.
This summer though had been a little bit different. My brother was just about to enter 10th grade - the entry point to high school in our town - and, being a bit of a social outcast, he was taking any opportunity to look cool. That included being ‘too cool’ to hang out with his little brother; a persona he even lived when it was just the two of us home alone on those summer days. He’d spend most of the time in his bedroom with the door closed while I’d do my own thing throughout the house. Still though, being the younger brother, I’d find opportunities to annoy him and force him to interact with me.
On one such day, somewhere in the middle of summer break, I had just finished playing a video game or something and my brother, Stan, was, as usual, in his room. Unsure of what to do with myself, I decided to go and see what he was up to and if it was something that could entertain me for a bit. Well, was it ever.
I got to the door of his room and didn’t hear anything on the other side. Naturally, being the little brother hell-bent on busting up my brother’s sense of superiority, I decided to forego knocking and just burst into his room dramatically instead. What I saw on the other side of the door sent my eyes wide.
There was Stan, completely naked lying on his bed, rubbing his erect penis up and down. His eyes had clearly been closed but upon my burst in he opened them and looked over at me, sitting up angrily.
“Rick, what the fuck?” he said angrily. “Get out!”
Stan didn’t really make any attempts to cover himself up as, being brothers, we’d seen each other naked more times than I could remember and even played the old, ‘you show me yours, I’ll show you mine,’ games over the years. We were both chubby, though not obese, between 4 and 5 feet tall each with brown hair; we’d actually gotten the ‘twins’ comments over the years because we looked so much alike despite our 2 year age gap. We were also both uncircumcised though his penis has always been a bit bigger than mine, I’d guess around 4.5 inches to my 3.5 inches or so at this point, and he had a bush of brown pubic hair at the top while mine was still fairly thin and starting to grow in.
While I’d never seen him, or anyone do what he was doing right there, I fairly quickly deduced that he was in fact masturbating.
“Are you spanking your monkey?” I asked, likely with a shit eating grin on my face.
“What do you think?” he shot back still clearly upset by my intrusion. “Get out!”
I had no intentions of getting out though. I very much wanted to know more and to see this; see how it actually worked.
“Keep doing it. I want to watch,” I insisted staring at his still hard dick.
“No, that’s weird,” he said grabbing his cock again and giving it a few strokes, I assume, to keep hard while he dealt with me. “What are you doing?”
By this point I’d walked in his room and closed the door behind me. I grabbed the lawn chair from the center of his room that he used to watch movies and play video games and turned it from the TV to face his bed instead. I took a seat in it just a few feet away from him.
“Come on, keep going.” I said leaning forward. “I want to see.”
At this point, I don’t know if out of frustration or perhaps a secret want to be watched doing it, he conceded and laid back down taking full grip of his cock in his right hand again.
“Fine, just shut up so I can concentrate,” he said closing his eyes again and resuming his masturbation.
Concentrate on what? I had a lot of questions about all of this, but first I had to see what this even really was. My brother laid there with his left hand at his side and his right hand quickly pulling his uncircumcised skin up and down - revealing his purple cock head below with each pull. The distance he could roll his skin back caught my attention immediately as, the last time I’d really seen his penis closely he could only pull it back far enough to expose a bit of his head below - the same place I was at at this point and would be for at least another year or two. His rolled completely back at this point though.
I knew the point of what he was doing was to have an orgasm - that much I understood from my sex ed classes and book - but I really had no idea what that would look like, what it would do to you, how it would feel. At this point we only had slow, mid-90s internet on my family’s shared computer, so porn was still basically out of the question to get some of these answers. So the more I thought as he jerked off in front of me, the more I realized I had no idea what was coming or how long it would take. I just watched, not necessarily enjoying my brother’s dick by any means, but enjoying what he was doing.
It didn’t take long to get my answers though. I don’t know if Stan had been jacking it for awhile when I came in or if my presence, watching him just worked him up more, but I’d only been watching him stroke his cock for about 2 minutes before it happened. I could see his hand moving a little faster up and down his shaft, his body start to tense up a bit, and his face start to take on a sort of far off look with his breathing increasing.
Suddenly he began to gasp and his body pulsed forward a bit as a long rope of white goo shot out of his penis and onto his chest. Then he shot another, and another, maybe 8 or 9 shots total before his jerking slowed back down and his body seemed to come down.
My eyes were wide as it all happened and as he laid there after reaching for a tissue.
“Wow, it shot up really high,” I said, still taking in the scene.
“Yeah, sorry, it doesn’t normally do it quite that high,” said my brother, clearly a little embarrassed and unsure how to act after being watched masturbating.
I left the room as he cleaned himself up; my mind an absolute race over the whole thing.
In the coming weeks the scene would be repeated several times. I’d make it a point to burst into my brothers room several more times and, several more times, I’d catch him in the act, he’d protest slightly, and then I’d watch him jack off. I don’t know if Stan became tired of this dance or if he grew to actually enjoy the audience while he jerked, but after a few times doing this he just started approaching me before he’d start to alert me to come watch.
“Hey, I’m gonna jack off,” he’d say, almost instantly giving me an erection in my pants as I’d follow him to his room to watch.
A few times I even brought popcorn to munch on as my brother ‘put on his show.’ Often I’d ask questions about it and make comments as he did it. Some times I’d even join him naked and we’d play little truth or dare type games that always ended with him cumming in front of me.
As all of this was happening though, I became obsessed with trying to do to myself what he was doing in front of me. At night I’d sit in my bed and play with my erect, uncut cock the same was I’d seen my brother do. I would always enjoy what I was doing, as I was clearly into my puberty and constantly horny, but my body was apparently not ready to have an actual orgasm yet. Ever single attempt ended in my arm getting tired and me going to sleep with no climax and a worn out dick.
That would change after just a few months of this though. We were now just into the school year and my parents had taken us to the water park on a Saturday to have some fun before they closed for the season. All day long though, I found myself trying to conceal erections as I was surrounded by girls in bikinis and swimsuits enjoying the park. Even the girls I didn’t find particularly attractive were having an effect on my horny, pubescent self. It was too much. I knew my body had to be ready to give me relief from this - after all it was more than ready to get worked up about anything even remotely sexual.
I made the decision then and there: I would have an orgasm that night.
When we got home, my family and I had dinner and then my parents settled in to watch TV in the living room while my brother and I did what teenagers do: went into our rooms and shut the doors. I’d lock mine behind me with my game plan clear in my head.
I stripped all my clothes off and let my 3.5 uncircumcised inches spring to life almost instantly. I sat down on my bed and immediately got to work rubbing the skin on my penis up and down. I had plenty of memories of butts and boobs barely covered by swimsuits fresh in my mind to fuel this attempt, but I also brought the sex ed book for extra help; opening it to a page with fairly realistic drawings of the naked female body on it (again, we were pre-internet porn here).
I rubbed, and rubbed, and rubbed. When one arm would get tired I’d switch to the other and just keep going. I had no idea what I was waiting to feel to know I was on the right track, all I knew was that my brother did this and eventually came, so I just kept doing that. Up and down jerking and thinking about any sexy thought I could conjure, and trying to not get discouraged or distracted - after all my brother did say, that very first day, that he had to concentrate.
Then, after about 25 or 30 minutes, it happened. I felt a sort of numb tingling begin to rush over my loins and insides. It rapidly grew stronger and I could feel it surging forward toward the tip of my cock. Suddenly, I recall feeling like my body was out of my control as I began tensing up and white shots of cum began squirting out of my cock.
It had finally happened: I was cumming…and I didn’t really like it.
Perhaps it’s because I didn’t know what to expect when it happened, what an orgasm would actually feel like, but in that moment it kind of scared me, I think. As my cock stopped tensing up and my body came down from the orgasm I felt weak and overwhelmed by the helpless feeling it caused in me. For those few seconds I had no control over things, and it shook me up. I remember sitting there so conflicted about the matter. Did I really just not like orgasms?
In my young, barely teenaged mind, I decided that I didn’t want that again and made the declaration to myself that I wouldn’t have an orgasm again.
I told my brother about my experience, and from there on out we’d continue playing our naked truth or dare games, but with the understanding that I would hold back from having an orgasm. I’d rub my member against things, stick it into items to simulate sex, and of course watch my brother climax during the games, but I’d always stop short. I just didn’t have it in me to feel that helplessness again. I didn’t want it.
It only took a few months of this though, before my body had other ideas.
It turns out puberty didn’t give a fuck about my fear of having another orgasm. Once it had cum once, my body only kept pumping out sperm that was gonna be released one way or another. Since I wasn’t doing it…it chose ‘the other.’
I started frequently having dreams where I’d be in a sexual situation with girls from my school that I had crushes on, or where for some reason I’d have to pee really badly and would finally go, and every time I’d quickly wake up to find a sticky, gooey mess in my boxer shorts and all over my bed sheets. I was having wet dreams. At first they’d only come once every few weeks, but as I got hornier and hornier in my youth, the dreams got more and more frequent. At their height, I found myself trying to hide sticky underwear in the depths of my hamper 2, even 3 times a week.
This was getting out of hand, I knew, because I was unwilling to put the matter in my actual hand.
Then things came to a head when, one weekend, my family got in our car to drive to my grandparents’ house for a visit. The entire 3 and a half hour trip, I sat in the backseat of our van trying to figure out what I was gonna do. When we stayed at my grandparents’, my brother and I had to share a room and a queen sized bed due to the space that was available. With the wet dreams happening frequently now, I was mortified that I would have one in my grandparents’ guest bed, possibly on my brother while we slept. I doubted Stan, who’d now had dozens of orgasms in front of me, would be offended if I had one in my sleep next to him, but at my age it would have been an embarrassing nightmare to explain and have to figure out how to clean up there.
In between the worry about that situation though, I was sitting there in the backseat, horny as hell. All my teenaged mind could think about was sex. In my head, were wild fantasies about those classmate crushes or hot celebrities of the day. I was constantly having to adjust my hard dick in my jeans as I squirmed in that backseat of my family’s car.
As we drove closer and closer to my grandparent’s place I gradually came to the conclusion: I needed to try jacking off again. It was either that or risk another wet dream in that incredibly inappropriate setting. It was really the only option, but as our car got closer, the idea became a mix of nervous and excited. I was scared of not enjoying it again, but knowing I would soon have another orgasm got me going even more. Maybe it was my body telling me, ‘this is a good thing,’ before my young mind had really understood that yet.
As we pulled up to my grandparent’s house I tried to push the thought, at least to the back of my head so that I could get inside and say hi before launching my plan. I was able to do that. I don’t recall having to conceal a boner on the way in, but I do vaguely remember seeing my grandparents, exchanging pleasantries, and telling them how school had been going and such. I can’t recall how long we made small talk before I excused myself to use the restroom; honestly the whole memory up to ‘that moment’ is a bit blurry as my mind was racing with the thought of what was coming.
When I finally got up the courage though, I did just that and walked quickly up the stairs of their old house to the second story bathroom. Once I was inside I quickly shut the door which, given the age of the house, didn’t actually have a lock on it, but everyone kind of knew to not enter if the door was closed.
I’d decided I was just going to do this straight into the toilet, as it seemed the least messy option. I approached the toilet which sat fairly low to the floor, lifted the lids and slowly pulled off my pants and boxer shorts. My nerves about the whole thing were still high, but none the less my penis sprung out in front of me as erect as it could get. Part of me still doubted what I was about to do, but I wasn’t turning back.
I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet and began tugging the foreskin on my cock up and down, up and down, just like I’d done before and like I’d seen my brother do so many times.
Now remember: the first time I did this I was jerking my dick forever before things happened, but not this time. As if the nocturnal emissions weren’t a clue that my body was now very ready for this, this jerk off session made it very clear. My mind filled with pervy thoughts and the excitement of the moment rushing over me, I only recall masturbating for a minute or two tops before the signs of climax started to show up. I again felt that tingly numbness start to take over my groin and rush into my penis, my body starting to feel slightly out of my control, but this time was different. I’d felt this before, I was prepared for this along with what would happen next. Maybe that was the difference: that this was no longer some great mystery.
This time…it felt incredible. The tingling rushed to the tip of my penis, my hand started to shake as my body tensed up, and big white ropes of semen began spurting from my young cock. The first one missed the bowl and landed on the rim of the toilet, but i truly didn’t care. I was lost in this amazing moment, the ecstasy of that wonderful orgasm taking me over and the loss of control feeling, not scary this time, but so fantastic.
As the final dribbles of cum ran from my hard tense penis into the bowl, the feeing began to subside and I had to use my free hand to brace myself from falling over. I just sat there for a few moments, basking in the glow of what I’d come to consider my first true orgasm. Eventually I composed myself and used a nearby bottle or spray cleaner to clean my semen off the rim of my grandparent’s toilet before flushing away all the evidence and rejoining my family; finally feeling relieved for true first time that day.
I remember, that night, telling my brother proudly about my successful jerk off that day in the bathroom. I think it was the very next night that we’d share our first side-by-side jerk off and he’d see me actually cum for the first time. That would be far from the last time (perhaps more stories to come in the future), and though we aren’t very close these days and don’t live anywhere near one another, we’ll still share an occasional cyber jerk session to catch up.
So looking at it now, maybe it does make sense I’m so masturbation focused and so open about it. After all, I’ve been cumming alongside others since my third orgasm! Hey, if you ask me, maybe others are just missing out on the fun you can have sharing this personal experience.
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