Date: Wed, 12 Jun 2019 22:09:52 +0000
From: Trek50 <Trek50@protonmail.com>
Subject: Memories - Sixteen

This true story is fifth in a series that describes my experiences with
masturbation while growing up.

At age 16, I worked at my father's gas station as an attendant and
mechanic. There was a small room at the back of the mechanic bays where
extra parts, like oil and air filters, were stored. Since there was nothing
of real value in the room. I found it curious that there was a small
sliding bolt lock installed on the inside of the door allowing someone to
lock themselves in the room.

My dad's mechanics would periodically take their 15 to 20-minute breaks in
the room. On a slow Sunday afternoon, curiosity got the best of me and I
decided to take a closer look. I started searching the lower shelves,
moving dusty air and oil filter boxes. As I moved to the higher shelves, I
found a cardboard box with greasy fingerprints on it. When I opened the
box, I smiled, it was full of "dirty" magazines with greasy fingerprints on
them. There were various issues of Playboy, Hustler, etc.

I began to harden as I thought about the good-looking male mechanics with
their hard dicks in their dirty hands jacking off in the small room. I
pulled out the Hustler magazine that was on top and turned to the page with
the most greasy fingerprints. I figured that was the page the other men
jacked off the most to. I rubbed my dick through my Levi jeans as I closed
the door and secured it with the sliding lock.

I placed the magazine on a shelf and opened it to the page I'd noticed
earlier. There was a picture of a tall skinny naked blond with firm round
tits and engorged nipples. She was lying in a lounge chair by a pool and
her legs were spread apart. Her pubic hair was shaved and her mound
inviting. She gripped her pussy with her hand; her fingers pulling back the
folds of her hot box revealing light-pink damp flesh inside. My young cock
longed to sink deep into that pussy and feel its warmth and wetness.

Equally exciting was the male that stood next to her. He was tall, with
dark hair and dark eyes. He had a hard-contoured body. Like the girl, he
was naked. His cock was long and thick, and his black pubic hair
well-groomed. He stood next to the woman's head with his hard dick pointed
toward her open mouth. His dick was close to her lips as she waited for him
to slide his manhood into her throat.

I unzipped my jeans and maneuvered my underwear until my hard dick bounced
free. The head of my uncut cock was completely exposed as I wrapped my hand
around it. I placed my other hand on my sac and pulled gently on my
balls. My greasy hand pumped my hard dick as I imagined plunging my cock
into the soft, warm, welcoming pussy. I also imagined the dark-haired male
sliding his hard cock into my mouth. He moaned gently as the head of his
dick touched the back of my throat. I was fucking her while he fucked my
mouth! My mouth hung open, ready for cock, as my hand slid out, over the
head of my shaft, and then back down to the base. I gripped my dick tightly
like I imagined her pussy would be. In only a few moments, my knees went
weak as cum shot across the room.

I licked the thick cum off my dirty hands and used the rag that always hung
from my back pocket to dry them. I also cleaned the remaining spots of cum
off the floor. I placed the magazine back in the box and returned
everything to its proper place. As I left the small room, I thought about
the other men who had shot their loads there. I smiled thinking about my
greasy fingerprints that, like a rite of manhood, were added to the
magazine with the other men. I knew I would be spending a lot of time in
that small room as I added more of my fingerprints to the magazines and
more cum to the floor!

I continued to explore my sexuality playing the roles expected of me. My
girlfriend's name was Mary. She had beautiful brown hair and soft breasts
that I loved, kissed, sucked, caressed and admired. She was visiting me at
home one Saturday afternoon. As we sat on the couch watching TV, she
suggested that we stretch out and spoon one another. I spread out on the
couch first and she laid down in front of me. I placed my arm around
her. As we spooned, I felt the warmth of her body and longed to undo her
bra and slide my hand under her shirt, as I had done many times when we
were alone. She hadn't allowed me to go any further, yet. My mom was in the
next room, so any erotic touch was out of the question.

Lying next to her, I began to feel that familiar stirring sensation as my
underwear tightened. I inched my hips backward to prevent my growing
hard-on from poking Mary in the back. My ass sank into the couch cushion as
I tried to avoid embarrassment. Quickly, I ran out of room and felt the tip
of my cock press against her back through my shorts and underwear. The
thought of my hard cock so close to her body just engorged it
more. Innocently, Mary turned her head toward me and asked, "Do you have a
marker in your pocket?" My face was as red as the head of my dick as I
placed my lips next to Mary's ear and whispered, "That's not a marker. I'm
sorry. I can't help it." In an instant, her facial expression changed, and
she turned redder than me. I assured her that it would go away in a little
while.

I lied. As I lay there with my hard dick so close to her young perfect
body, my dick refused to back off. After a second thirty-minute TV show, I
felt a dull ache from my balls. I knew the feeling from making out with
Mary. Pressure was building and there was only one way to relieve it.

I've always made a lot of pre-cum that lubricates my uncut cock. I love the
taste and how it glistens on the head of my hard dick. If my erections
lasted too long, I could get pre-cum spots on my shorts or pants that were
difficult to explain. I knew my embarrassment would get much worse if I
developed a wet spot on the front of my light tan shorts. I had to do
something.

I whispered to Mary that I needed to go to the restroom and that should
help resolve the situation. As I stood up from the couch, her attention was
clearly on the bulge in my pants. She smiled as her gaze traveled from my
throbbing crotch to my face. My bedroom was right next to the bathroom. As
soon as I was out of view, I went directly to my room, closed and locked
the door. I laid down on my bed and slid my shorts and underwear down,
revealing my young hard dick. There was wet and dry pre-cum in my underwear
and I licked off what I could. I ran my fingers across the tip of my dick,
and it jumped at the soft touch. I knew I didn't have much time before Mary
wondered about me. I began pumping my cock as fast as I could and in just a
couple of minutes, my dick shot more cum than I'd ever seen. I was over 6
feet tall and cum shot over my head and hit the wall directly behind my
bed. There was cum in my hair, on my face, and down my chest. Cum also
oozed down the side of my dick pooling against my balls. I laid on my bed
stunned by the volume of cum and the distance it had traveled. I used a
clean t-shirt to wipe the cum from my head, chest, and softening cock;
stopping periodically to feed.

I pulled up my underwear and pants, got a washcloth, and headed to the
bathroom. I used a wet washcloth to clean my face, chest and flaccid
dick. Once I was done, I knew what had to "cum" next. I returned to Mary
and knelt in front of the couch. I gently held her face in my hands as I
French kissed her deeply. I thought of the cum I had just enjoyed and knew
that some of it was being shared with her. I could still taste the cum and
wondered if she could taste it, too. As I continued to kiss her, I felt my
dick begin to stir and wished that I had put on a jock while in my bedroom.

Upon returning to my bedroom later that day, I saw the dried remains of cum
on the dark paneling behind the headboard of my bed. I got a wet washcloth
and scrubbed the stain; however, the cum permanently lightened the paneling
where it had dried. For years afterwards, every time I saw that stain, I
remembered the amazing feeling of so much cum shooting from my dick and
feeding Mary my cum. When I was 30, my mother sold that home. I wanted to
cut out that section of paneling to keep as a memento; however, I had no
idea how to explain the importance of that stain to my mom.

As noted above, this is a true story. If you enjoyed it or have any
comments, please let me know. Trek50@protonmail.com.