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Origins & Experiences
Origins and ExperiencesThe origins-- I'm not entirely sure how old I was when I first discovered my sexuality. I have memories of laying in bed and touching myself until I was hard... and rubbing the head because it felt good. I don't remember how long it was before I discovered the rising feeling associated with approaching orgasm but gradually this did happen. I started to notice this feeling and went longer and longer each time. I would always have to stop because the feeling was so intense. One night, however, I finally didn't stop.I vividly remember using my fingers, like you would hold a pencil, faster and faster. There was a plant on the windowsill of my bed and I always looked at it (just for something to stare blindly at) and I remember that moment when the peak washed through me. My vision darkened--like tunnel vision. It was an incredible feeling. I did it again after a few minutes. Nothing came out, of course, and I wasn't expecting anything to. I was unaware of male physiology at that time.Well, with all things that give us pleasure we like to repeat them. I probably masturbated twice a night for about a week and a half until one night, when I came, a small amount of fluid seeped out of me. I was curious. I touched the fluid with my finger. I tasted it. It wasn't urine. What was it? It was slimy to the touch and it smelled different than anything I'd ever smelled. Each night, a little more fluid would come out..always seeping out slowly. This whole thing became quite habit forming. I started to do it in the bathroom behind a locked door while on the toilet. Every day. It was a wonderful feeling.One day while masturbating in the bathroom, as I was getting close to orgasm one of my little brothers pounded on the door telling me to hurry up. Suddenly I came and instead of a slow oozing the fluid shot out of my about a foot and landed on the floor. I was bewildered. This orgasm felt different and much more intense than all of the previous ones. And thus began a life-long love of masturbation, and more importantly of ejaculating.For years, almost nightly I would lay on my left side at the edge of the bed and jack off quietly. It was dark and I couldn't see anything but I could hear my semen lightly hitting the floor when the moment came and that was fuel enough for my libido. Sometimes I would not be mindful of the semen on the floor and would step in a cold wet spot on the carpet and that would get me going again. I would sometimes just kneel down on the floor and smell it. That would get me aroused and I'd add more to 'the spot'. The carpet was dark colored and you couldn't tell unless you ran your hand over it. It had a matted feel to it. I spent so many orgasms in the dark, though and wanted to see. The bathroom was the only way I could ever 'see' my ejaculation and time was always short in there. I had many hurried climaxes in the bathroom as a teen. Too many to count.Masturbation was not a subject for discussion in our home. It wasn't taboo. It just wasn't discussed. I never got the talk from my dad. My mom taught me all about conception and babies but was very vague about copulation. She never mentioned masturbation. Until I heard one day that my older cousin was caught doing it, I thought I may have discovered something new. I'm glad I was wrong. It's nice to know that there are millions upon millions of people out there.. every moment of every day pleasuring themselves. Doesn't seem so lonely.As the years passed, my semen fetish became even more profound. I'd sit and ponder about ways that I could taste my semen before my libido left me. One day I had a bright idea. My parents and brothers were all gone from the house and I decided to try it. I laid on my back on the floor by the bed and pulled my feet up over my head and rested my legs on the bed so that my cock was staring my right in the face about 8 inches away. At first it was hard to stroke like that but I got the hang of it. It was very exciting, anticipating that moment while I jerked myself faster and faster. I remember being able to see precum forming at the slit and beading up into a clear droplet. I squeezed and shook until it separated and dropped down on a slimy string into my open mouth. I was so turned on. I remember how eager and nasty and urgent the whole moment felt. I still, to this day, love feeling that way. When my orgasm came, it was powerful. I tried to aim carefully at my mouth but the first spurt missed and hit me on the cheek. The second spurt was thicker and it was dead-on. It went right in my mouth.. and then another... it felt warm and tasted salty and I wanted more... then a few more shots.. some on my face and lips and some on my neck... it was warm. As the last surges shot out of me my libido faded and I sat up. I hurried to the bathroom and spit my semen in the toilet. I looked in the mirror at my spattered face and mused for a moment. I was a little disgusted and disappointed. I wanted it so bad before it happened. Now I just wanted to get the taste out of my mouth. I drank lots of milk and water to accomplish this. --odonatao
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