Stupid, Horny 13-Year-Old Boy

He wanted to visit relatives in Ohio. My mom didn't want to go, so she stayed home with my sister. My dad used to talk about many things, and on this road trip, we had a great time talking about everything from tractors to factories, a real delight for a 13-year-old kid. But the one thing we never talked about was sex, including masturbation. I believe he would have, but I never brought it up, and he probably felt it would be inappropriate to start such a conversation with his son. The one time he started in on the "birds and the bees" I quickly interrupted him, saying "I already know all that," (which of course I didn't.) You see, I was a rather private and shy kid. At thirteen, even though my groin was still hairless, and my penis, when erect was skinny and only around four inches long, I had already taken up the habit of masturbating at least twice a day. It was only recently that I had started putting out a drop of clear cum during orgasm, but I had been enjoying dry orgasms for a year. The road trip presented a bit of a problem. The plan was that we were going to sleep in the car. It was one of those long, wide station wagons from the 1970s, and neither of us was particularly tall, especially me, at the time, so it was easy enough for him to sleep across the front seats, and me across the back seats. Behind the back seats was all our luggage. But where and when to jerk off? I would have been horrified to think my dad knew anything about my interest in my dick, so I had to work out something private, or just explode with frustration. The first night turned out OK. We stayed at a freeway rest stop, and it had restrooms. I had been thinking about anal stuff all day, and was anxious to try something. So, while he was heating a can of beans on the exhaust manifold in his 'great outdoorsman camper' sort of way, I went in the rest room, and locked myself in a toilet stall. I had an instant little erection, but I wasn't interested in that right away. I don't know what triggered it, but I had to play with my anus. I fingered it gingerly, and it felt quite nice. But for the first time in my life, I then pressed my finger into the anus. This was brand new for me, and so far, up to just the first knuckle, it felt really great. After some trepidation, I pushed my finger in further, and really enjoyed the feeling of being penetrated for the first time in my life. On that night, I didn't find that sweet spot on the back of my prostate. That was still to be years into the future. But I had a great time with my single index finger. I also didn't try two fingers. I doubt I would have even thought two fingers was possible. After awhile, I stroked my penis with the other hand, and had a fantastic orgasm, resulting in a bit more than the usual single drop of cum. I composed myself for several minutes, and returned to the car with my dad. Back then, I was sure something showed after wanking. I didn't know whether my face might be red, or whether somehow someone could tell by the disheveled look my clothing might carry, or just what, but I sincerely hoped my father couldn't tell what I had been up to in the bathroom. In retrospect, he must have known. Not due to a red face or anything like that, since of course I now know there is no visible after-wanking indication, but by the fact that I had been in the bathroom a very long time. Assuming he did know, he was kind enough not to say anything about it. I had another long wank in the restroom in the morning. The next night, my horniness was building up again. This time, we just pulled off along a back country road. We peed at the edge of a corn field, and ate in the car. There was nowhere to get some privacy. I couldn't just go in the corn field at night for two reasons: 1) I'd probably get lost or bit by a snake or something. 2) My father would be sure to know what I was up to. So, I just tried to go to sleep on the back seat. But it wasn't going to happen. I had to wank. I had to have an orgasm. Remembering back to then, I vaguely remember that I was convinced that I had to cum or I wouldn't be able to get to sleep, ever! What to do? I was in a real bind. Finally, I threw caution to the wind, and just started stroking myself under the blanket. I tried to be absolutely quiet. But, I never thought about the movement rocking the car. It had to. My father had to have known! Fortunately, I was too stupid to figure that out until years later. By then, he was dead and gone, and so I wasn't as embarrassed thinking about it. It also never occurred to me until recently: What was my father doing during that trip? He was probably as horny as I was. I'll bet he found secret ways to get off during that trip also. Communication would have been the key. My father and I debated the benefits of carburation versus fuel injection, we discussed the weather, we talked about capitalism compared to communism, but never, ever, did we discuss anything of a sexual nature. The closest we came is when he admitted he found Angie Dickinson attractive. He said he liked her shoulders. Yet there are indications that he was a horny man. What might have happened had I been smart enough to really communicate with him - especially about matters of sex? I think I would have really enjoyed wanking with him, and he with me, but I'll never know. The picture above is the very same dick I jerked off in the car that night, but of course it is bigger now.