Date: Sat, 17 Jun 2000 12:55:46 EDT
From: Mervro@aol.com
Subject: Early Wanks

I have been so encouraged by the wonderful e-mails I have received in 
response to my earlier posting (Good Wanks) that I am now sending some 
outline details of my earlier experiences.  Hope you enjoy them and please, 
either post your own stories or e-mail me.

Thanks


I was a teenager in the nineteen-forties, and in those days all young boys
got most of their sexual pleasure from playing with each other.  Young
people I talk to these days tell me that this doesn't happen any more: if
that is in fact true I feel sorry for today's young men as they do not know
the pleasure they are missing.  Certainly the vast majority of my friends
did not turn out to be homosexual, but just enjoyed the cock fun while it
lasted.  We pretended to each other that we also had sex with girls, but
our exploits in that direction were always grossly exaggerated.

In those days I had two or three regular cock friends.  Stanley, the son of
my father's closest friend, whom I had known from childhood, and who first
introduced me to the pleasure of peeing in the open air instead of
bothering to go upstairs to the bathroom; this at the age of about 5 or 6 I
would think.  Stanley used to stay with me at weekends, or sometimes I
would stay at his home: in either case we had to share a bed and long
before either of us had reached puberty we had discovered the pleasure of
playing with each other's "dickies" as we called them in those days.  I
shall always remember that Stanley's cock had a very distinct downward bend
when hard, and I often wondered what position he adopted for intercourse
later in life!

Stanley lived in a country town and mixed with the sons of local farmers so
that he had a tendency to learn more about sex than I did.  He next
introduced me in bed one weekend to the further pleasure of sucking each
other's cocks.  After taking it in turns for a little while I suggested
that I lie the opposite way to him so that we could both suck at the same
time, hence my introduction to the exquisite pleasure of a "69".  Our
mutual pleasuring continued until Stanley was called up for national
service.

My more regular and long lasting cock friend was Ken, who was a school
friend of mine.  Ken was nearly two years older than me, and hence always
that little bit more advanced in development.  A third member of our
regular group was John, who although the youngest had the largest cock, and
a very long foreskin, which fascinated me as he was the only one of my
friends who was not circumcised.  In the late nineteen-twenties when I was
born almost all boys were circumcised as a matter of course. Although John
joined us for cock fun quite often, it was Ken and I who developed a really
close bond, telling each other of any new ideas we had for wanking.

As with Stanley, our cock fun days started well before puberty, and in
those days when there was no sex education in schools, and our parents
certainly never broached the subject, it was a matter of self discovery.
Ken was particularly fascinated by the fact that his cock was growing, and
whenever he stroked it to full hardness it seemed to be larger that before.
He was somewhat optimistic in this, although it was certainly true that he
had developed a cockstand to be proud of.  We would leave school after dark
in the wartime blackout and sit on a bench in the local park and after some
mutual caresses measure the lengths of our cocks using a ruler we had
pocketed from school.  Unfortunately I never did catch up with Ken in the
length stakes.

Wartime had some advantages for young people; not only the blackout, but so
many places were deserted as so many people were either in the forces, or
working long hours in the factories.  One favourite place for Ken and John
and I was a local area of scrub and tough grass known as the gypsy field.
The bushes were overgrown and it was possible to create hides within them
where you could not possibly be seen even if by chance someone did pass
close by.  In this hide we could drop our trousers and have a really
comfortable slow wank.  Ken had already developed to the point when he
could produce a small amount of cum, but John and I were still trying.  Ken
had first produced cum when wanking alone at home, but my first experience
(never to be forgotten) was in that hide in the gypsy field.

John, as I have said, was blessed with a particularly copious foreskin, and
whilst he continued to be the one of the three who could not yet cum, he
loved to wrap his foreskin around the head of Ken's or my cock and wank the
two together.  I am afraid I upset him one day by pissing copiously inside
his foreskin, which I thought was great fun, but to which he objected.
Although the three of us often pissed in each others presence, when
necessary, John could never see it as part of any sex games.

Ken and I would often spend days at the seaside together.  Again this was
wonderful in wartime as many beaches were completely deserted.  Among our
favourites was Brean Sands in Somerset; miles of sands and only on one
occasion did we see another human being, and he was a dirty old man who
offered to show us his cock, an offer we politely declined.  We could spend
hours in the sand dunes, sun bathing completely naked and also swimming
nude in the sea.  This nudity always led to a pissing and wanking session
sometimes lasting for hours before we dressed to make our way back to the
bus.

One year just after the war, and when we would have been about 18, Ken had
the bright idea that we should spend our one week's holiday at a holiday
camp at Brixham.  Our parents agreed, in Ken's case subject to our taking
his younger brother with us.  In those days the facilities of such camps
were very sparse; our chalet contained three single beds, wash basin and
limited storage space for clothes.  Obviously Ken's much younger brother
had to share the chalet with us, which somewhat inhibited our sexual
escapades.  Luckily he was a very sound sleeper, so that we would get
together in one bed when he was asleep and enjoy a warm, comfortable long
mutual wank, shooting our cum into our handkerchiefs.  There were also the
showers in which we could enjoy a naked wank, if no one else was using them
at the time.

The following year Ken decided that it would be more fun if we had a gang
of friends with us, and so it was that Ken, I and four other young men from
the aero-engine factory where we were all apprenticed set out for Brixham.

Here I need to introduce another cock friend, and the one that led me to
continue my interest in watersports linked to masturbation .  Although Bob
and I were fellow apprentices, it was a very big factory and I had never
met him until we found ourselves in the same class to study on day release
for our Higher National Certificate at a Technical College.  The
engineering department was housed in a converted warehouse (now the site of
a multistorey car park), and the facilities were very basic indeed.  Our
class room was equipped with two rows of tables, about eight in all and I
found myself in the back row sharing a table with Bob; the other table in
the back row was empty.

We were part way through the first day when Bob slipped his hand under the
table and ripped my flies open (buttons in those days of course).  I had
only just met Bob, and so assumed that this was just a childish joke as we
used to do at school years before.  I pushed his hand away and buttoned up
my fly.  After a short while he did the same thing again, with the same
result.  The third time he did it he not only ripped open my fly, but
slipped his hand inside and grasped my cock.  This was different
altogether; now that I knew what he was after, I slipped my hand under the
table, unbuttoned his fly and grasped his cock.

Although I was enjoying the experience, I realised what a risk we were
taking should either of us be called upon to stand up for any reason.  I
whispered my concern to Bob, and we agreed to talk about it after the
lessons were over.  At the end of the day we took our time packing up our
books, and then Bob asked me if I knew anywhere nearby we could go for a
wank.. I knew of a gent's urinal fairly near, and there we went and enjoyed
a reasonable wank, with only one interruption by someone calling in for a
piss.  The following week we both agreed that the urinal was an
unsatisfactory place as we could not really relax, so we agreed to stay
behind in the classroom, which was on the top floor of the college, and
wank there.  This we did every week of the course, shooting our cum onto
scrap paper and disposing of it on one of the many bomb sites surrounding
the college.

Back to the second Brixham holiday.  Six of us travelling on the early
train from Bristol found it impossible to find enough seats in any
compartment, and so settled down in the corridor.  It was very cold and so
we all kept our macs on, and it wasn't long before Bob had slipped his hand
inside mine, undone my fly and was giving me a slow gentle wank.  I, of
course, returned the compliment but I had less self control than Bob and
soon had to whip into the toilet to shoot my load into the basin.

As I have said before, facilities in the chalets were very basic; Ken and I
shared a chalet with a lad called Martin, who unfortunately showed no
interest in sex games, although we knew from his friends that he was a solo
wanker.  Unfortunately we had been afraid to try to get Bob as the third
occupant for fear of arousing suspicion.  Bob and I soon worked out a plan
to get around our frustration.  Our chalets were a long way from the camp's
only toilet block, so that last thing at night it was necessary to take
this long walk before going to bed.  However, behind our two chalets, on
the far side of a large hedge was a path leading from the road to the
beach, a path totally deserted at night.  Bob and I arranged that we would
always be the last to go out to visit the toilet block, after all the
others had done so.  We would make for the path, and about 100 yards away
from the camp was a stile.  We would sit on this stile, both having very
full bladders, and piss contentedely onto the bare ground, either holding
our own cocks and spraying patterns, or enjoying the extra pleasure of
holding each others (notice the similarity to Jeff and his friend).

After a very enjoyable piss, we would indulge in a lovely mutual wank.
Neither of us was into penetrative sex, but Bob (who had been educated at a
public school and was therefore very well versed in all matters sexual) was
very fond of dropping his trousers and have me get behind him and put my
cock between his legs whilst gently wanking his cock.  In fact he liked me
to climax in that position so that he could feel my cum running down his
legs.  They were wonderful evenings which I shall always remember with
great pleasure.

After the holiday, when college restarted Bob and I were allocated to
different courses, but we managed to continue regular wanking sessions
until I left the company.  On Friday afternoons the factory finished work
earlier than the drawing office where Bob and I both now worked.  Near the
office were the engine test beds, which were left deserted once the works
had finished for the weekend.  We would meet up in one of them and have a
session basically the same as on holiday.  The floors of the test beds were
smothered in all sorts of oil and grime, so that pissing on the floor did
no harm at all, in fact when I worked in the test beds as an apprentice the
testers would quite frequently piss on the floor, especially if it was
raining and it was quite a walk to the nearest toilets.

I left the company in 1952, and have never had contact with Bob since.  Ken
and I continued our friendship for some years, but he lost interest in
wanking after an illness when his doctors advised him to limit sexual
activity, and he wisely decided to save his efforts for his girl friend.  I
was married shortly afterwards, and although my wife indulged my whim by
letting me watch her piss, and (very occasionally) pissing over me in the
bath, she was not really into water sports, although otherwise our marriage
has been very happy.  Some years later I discovered other outlets for my
interest in all things to do with pissing, and if you print this letter
perhaps I will write again of my adult watery adventures.


Mervyn R