Date: Mon, 22 Apr 2002 08:00:46 -0500
From: Paul Wilson <paulwilson45@hotmail.com>
Subject: Favorite Recreation

The first I can remember receiving pleasure from touching myself was when I
was a young boy, probably around 5 or so.  Saturday and Sunday mornings were
always quiet around the house, as the older people recuperated from the
week, and I was allowed to lounge around in my PJs and watch cartoons in the
den.  Usually I was alone, and I can remember idly playing with my penis
with my hand down in my pants.  Unlike many of my friends who wore underwear
under their PJs (a habit I could never figure out), I was loose and free,
and I can remember that it felt good after being constricted in tight
underwear all week (boys all wore tighty whities when I was a kid; boxers
were for old men - the only time I ever saw a boy wearing boxers was in the
changing room at the pool, and everyone stared at him.  Turns out he had a
bad rash in his crotch and the doctor told his mother to get him boxers
until it went away).

I would lay on my side on the couch and watch cartoons, and just play with
myself for long periods of time.  I don't know what age I first got
erections while doing that, but it was also pretty young, perhaps I always
did.  My recollection was always that I was stiff when doing it, and I
realized it felt  better that way.  Mostly I would hold my penis between my
thumb and forefinger, and gently roll the head around, which felt really
good to me.  Once in a while I would stroke up and down on my penis, which
also felt good, but not as good as rolling the head.

I have read that many people, including some "experts," don't believe very
young children can experience orgasm; that only happens at puberty.  But I
can say with absolute certainty that such is not the case, as I had
frequent, and excellent, orgasms from a young age.  When I was 7 (I remember
the age since it corresponded with the death of my friend's mother), I was
doing my thing, and it kept feeling better and better, so I kept rubbing my
penis more and more, and I had my first orgasm.  Of course I didn't know
what it was, but I did know it felt really good, and I knew I wanted to do
that again.  I was kind of afraid, since I didn't know what happened, and my
penis felt a little sore and I felt tired for a little while.  But the next
day I did it again to see if it really was as good as I remembered, and it
was even better, since I was looking forward to it.

Of course I was hooked on doing that whenever I could.  I called it "my good
feeling."  On some mornings I'd do it two or three times.  I also discovered
that I could get the same feeling by putting a cushion from the couch under
my crotch and humping it, and that felt good.  The problem is that I had a
brother two years older, and though he didn't like to watch cartoons in the
morning like I did, he would wander in once in a while, so I had to keep a
good lookout if I was humping the cushion because I didn't want him to see
me.  But it was much easier to pull my hand out of my pants if I was doing
it that way.

So for years I did that, and would play with my penis almost the whole time
I was watching cartoons, which was 3 or 4 hours until my mother chased me
out to play.  Nobody in my family ever did or said anything to lead me to
believe there was anything wrong with playing with myself, but I somehow
knew it was something to be done in private, and I didn't want anyone to
catch me at it.  I wasn't hung up or anything; I just knew it felt good and
that if it felt good, there was nothing wrong with doing it, at least in
private.

I can also remember in first and second grade doing that in my seat during
school.  My teachers rotated kids around to see who might have vision or
attention problems and should sit in the front.  I had good eyesight, so
frequently sat in the back.  One day I was sitting there bored while the
teacher read a story, and I put my hand in my lap.  I could feel my penis,
and I began to wish it were Saturday so I could rub myself.  Thinking about
it, I got a little boner in there, and rubbed it gently through the fabric.
It felt good, so I put my hand in my pocket and was able to grip it and rub
it, and after a while I got my good feeling.  The feeling was so powerful
and good that I felt lightheaded, and felt like I was going to faint.

I didn't do that often, but I enjoyed it when I did.  But that habit kicked
itself when one day my second grade teacher asked me to stay in the room a
minute when it was time for everyone to go to the playground.  She told me
it wasn't good to play with myself in public, and to please not do that
again.  She said she'd seen me doing it two times that week (I'd done it
three!).  I was really embarrassed, and said I wouldn't do it again.  I
didn't, and she never said anything else about it.  I was afraid she'd tell
my mother, but as far as I know, she didn't.

Sometimes on weekends I stayed over at a friend's (Billy's) house for a
sleepover, and one morning we were watching cartoons and I noticed he had
put a pillow in his crotch. I could see his arm on the other side from me
slide into his crotch under the pillow, and slight movements, and I could
tell he was doing the same thing I always did.  So I got a pillow and did
the same, and we sat side by side on the couch playing with ourselves,
pretending we didn't notice each other doing it.  This was when I was about
9.  The difference was that my friend was more obvious when he had an
orgasm.  Though I was careful to not make any noise or outward sign (I think
someone looking at me would never have noticed), he hunched down over his
pillow and tensed, and let out a soft combination of a groan and an "ahhh."
It was pretty obvious what had happened.

We had more frequent sleepovers after that first time, and we'd both do that
side by side.  We didn't do it openly until several years later.

I had a hard time doing it in bed at night, though I wanted to, since I
shared a room with my brother.  But by the time I was 11 he was in middle
school and had to get up earlier than me, so I had a little time alone in
bed in the morning during the week, and would do it then.  I longed for the
weekend when I could do it for a long time, but a quick "good feeling" was
better than nothing, so I did it nearly every morning before getting up for
school.

My situation changed one night when I was having trouble sleeping.  I had
been sick and had slept all day, but was over it and not tired at all.
Trying not to disturb my brother, I just lay there quietly.  I usually fell
asleep almost immediately after I got into bed, and I guess my brother was
used to that, so shortly after I got into bed I heard some rustling from his
side of the bed, and out of the corner of my eye I could see him pull the
sheet down on his side, slide his underwear down, and hold his erect penis.
He was 13 at this point, and a lot bigger then I was, but not fully
developed.  I don't think he had pubic hair at this point.  Anyway, I was
surprised to see him start to stroke his penis, and I realized he was doing
what I did, which was a revelation to me.  I thought my friend and I were
the only ones who did it.  And this was the first time I'd seen my brother,
or anyone else for that matter, with an erection.

My brother went to it for a while, probably 5 minutes, and I saw him tense
like my friend did, then several jets of white stuff came shooting out of
his penis, landing on his stomach.  By now my brother was laying perfectly
still, holding his penis, concentrating.  After a minute he reached for a
tissue on his bedside table and cleaned up, then pulled his underwear up and
went to sleep.  I was really excited by what I had seen.  I don't know how I
knew, but I had a feeling what the white stuff was, and I was jealous that
my brother had it and I didn't.

The next morning after he got up I went looking for the tissue, and it was
in the trash can, along with a lot of others.  I realized then he probably
did that right next to me every night, and I never knew.  That excited me,
and I did it to myself before getting ready for school.

From that day on I tried to watch my brother masturbate at night whenever I
could stay awake.  He did it almost every night.  I felt a little guilty
watching him like that, but it was fascinating and exciting to see him do
it.  I began wanting him to see me doing it, but didn't know how to do that
since I was afraid.

My chance came one day when I was about 12.  My brother didn't have to go to
school that day for some reason (doctor appointment?) and I wanted to do my
usual morning "good feeling" before getting up from school.  My brother was
asleep, so I decided to do it and that if he woke up and saw me, it would be
OK.  So I gently pulled the sheet down and opened my PJ bottoms, and went to
it, just like he did.  It didn't take long for my brother to wake up, and I
could tell he was watching me.  It was strangely exciting having an
audience, and it felt really good.  It was still a dry orgasm, but I
remember it being very intense.

When I was done my brother said, "I didn't know you did that."  I told him
I'd been doing it for years.  He said, "Me too."  I told him I knew, that I
had seen him do it at night.  I was afraid he'd be mad, but he wasn't, and
laughed.  "Now we don't have to hide it, since we both do it."

So that night we lay side by side and masturbated, and I felt closer to my
brother than I had ever felt before.

Over a period of a couple of weeks we graduated to doing it to each other,
and that was a lot of fun.  In fact I began ejaculating about this time.

I began thinking of doing it with Billy, the one who did it under the pillow
while we pretended to watch cartoons.  I was afraid to try anything with
him, until the day we had sex education class at school.  Unlike all the
stories I have heard about content-free sex education classes, the teacher
who taught the boys' class was surprisingly open about it, and explained a
lot.  I was especially interested in his discussion of masturbation.  He
didn't go into much detail, but did say that almost all boys our age did it,
and it was nothing to be ashamed of.  I noticed a lot of snickering around
the room, and looked around and saw a lot of knowing smiles, and a couple of
guys giving the universal hand signal for masturbation, which wasn't hard to
figure out.  I suddenly realized they all did it, too.  I looked at Billy,
and he gave me a sheepish smile, and I did the same to him.

But the one thing the teacher said that really got my attention was when he
mentioned that many boys do it together, and that didn't mean they were gay
or anything; it was just mutual exploration.  I looked at Billy again, and
he returned my glance, and I knew something was going to happen.

So the next time we had a sleep over (I don't remember which house we were
at, but if it was at my house it was in the extra bed downstairs since there
wasn't enough room in my room with my brother there) we were talking, and I
put my hand in my PJs and played with myself.  He did, too, and pretty soon
we were both openly masturbating.  Like with my brother, we soon began doing
it to each other, and had a great time.  That turned into our favorite
pastime after school and on sleepovers.

We developed a routine.  As soon as we got into bed, we'd both strip naked
and we'd talk for a while.  Billy liked to be masturbated first, which was
nice, since I found it exciting to do it to him, so I liked to have him do
it to me after I finished him off.  I'd usually sit cross legged next to
him, and masturbate him long and slow.  I never tired of watching his
reaction as his breathing changed and his stomach tensed as he approached
orgasm.  I liked to feel the throbs in his penis.  I never noticed when I
did it to myself, but doing it to him, I could pay more attention.  I would
always feel one sharp pulse, which was my signal to hold my hand tightly on
his penis but not move, then several rapid pulses.  By the third the semen
would start coming out.  I often took my free hand and held it under his
testicles, so I could feel the pulses in the root of his penis.  I don't
know exactly where the muscle is that ejects the semen, but it feels even
stronger down there, so it must be close.  Unlike me, who shot onto my
stomach and sometimes onto my chest, his just seemed to dribble out of the
slit and run down my hand, but I didn't mind it.  His pulses always seemed
much stronger than mine did, which made me wonder why he didn't shoot, but
the important thing was that I could tell he always enjoyed it.

Then he would do me the same way, though he usually sat between my legs and
did me from there.  Billy's hand was always so gentle but firm, and he knew
just how to avoid contact with the head of my penis when it was the most
sensitive while I was ejaculating.  Just a little touch there at that time
was painful since it was so sensitive.  He seldom got my semen on his hand,
since I usually shot clear, unlike him.

That same year, I got to know my cousin Steve.  He was 15 and I was 12.  He
had lived a long way away, and his parents moved back, very close to us.  I
had only met him a couple of times over the years until he moved in, but he
was now at our house a lot.  That summer my family drove to my grandparents'
house for a week.  My brother was involved in some sports thing, so stayed
with my Aunt and Uncle.  My parents invited my cousin to come take my
brother's place, so he went with us.

It was a long drive.  We started after school, and would be driving until
about 2 am.  Knowing we'd want to sleep, my parents tossed a couple of
pillows and blankets in the back seat.  About 10 pm I was feeling sleepy, so
tried to lie down on my side of the back seat.  That wasn't comfortable, so
Steve told me to put my legs across his lap and lay that way.  I did, and
ended up with my head on a pillow and my knees over his lap, which was
comfortable.  He threw the blanket over me.

His hands were on my legs, and he began to lightly massage them, just
running his fingers along my lower and upper legs.  It felt good.  Then he
started doing it to my inner thighs, and went right up to the leg opening of
my shorts, and stayed there.  I could just see his face in the dark, and I
could see he was looking for my reaction.  I smiled and nodded my head,
figuring what he was thinking of doing.  I already had a boner.

Steve smiled back, and slowly slid his fingers under the leg of my shorts,
and moved them up to my crotch.  He hit right below my balls, and gently
stroked them, then moved up to my penis, which was hard as a rock by then.
He just ran his finger up and down it a couple of times, which felt good,
then pulled his hand out.  He leaned over and, with his hands under the
blanket, unsnapped my shorts and pulled down the zipper.  Then he grabbed my
shorts on both sides, and looked at me again for approval.  I nodded my head
again, and he slid my shorts down past my knees.  Then he did the same for
my underwear, so I was naked below my shirt all the way to where my shorts
and underwear were bunched up.  It felt neat to lay there naked under that
blanket.

Steve then started rubbing lightly around my crotch, up to my belly button,
down between the legs, and all around on my balls and penis.  I closed my
eyes and just enjoyed it.  Soon he had gripped my penis in his hand with a
light touch, and started jacking me off lightly.  It was a strange sensation
with my older cousin doing to me what Billy did, especially with my parents
in the front seat not knowing what was happening in back.  I remember having
a very intense orgasm, with Steve holding my penis.  He cleaned me up with a
rag he found on the floor and pulled my pants back up.  I drifted off to
sleep quickly.

The next night at our grandmother's house, Steve and I watched TV while the
adults partied in the other room.  We were on opposite ends of the couch,
and Steve asked if I wanted to lie down.  I said yes, and he motioned for me
to lie down with my legs across his lap like the night before.  He moved to
the center of the couch to make us comfortable.  There was a blanket on the
back of the couch, and he covered me with it.  I was sure he was going to do
me again, and I was eager.

Again he ran his fingers up and down my legs, and this time removed my
shorts and underwear completely.  I was a little nervous someone might come,
but I was enjoying it too much to complain.  Steve masturbated me to another
very strong orgasm, and I was in heaven.  When he had me cleaned up, he
asked if I minded if he did himself, and I said to go ahead.  He kept my
legs on his lap, and pulled his pants down.  His penis was a little bigger
than mine, and he had some pubic hair, and I was very interested.  He
started jacking himself off, and as he got going, he put his hand on my
penis and felt it.  I got hard again, and he just played with it with one
hand while jacking with the other.  When he came he shuddered and groaned
just like Billy did, and made a real mess on himself and my legs.

We got cleaned up and dressed, and went to bed shortly after that.  We were
sleeping in the same king sized bed upstairs, and I noticed that Steve kind
of snuggled up to me when we went to bed.  I fell asleep pretty quickly.

The next night we did the same, but this time after Steve did me and started
to do himself, I figured I should do it to him, so I asked if he wanted to,
and he said that if I wanted, he'd like that.  So I did, and like doing it
to Billy, I enjoyed giving Steve pleasure.

The next morning I woke up to feel that Steve was right up against me, and I
could feel his boner against my hip.  When he saw I was awake, he asked me
if I wanted to try humping each other.  I didn't know what he meant, but
figured it would probably be fun, so said OK.  He lay back on his back, and
told me to lie on top of him.  He positioned me so our penises were rubbing
on each other, and I got the idea pretty quickly.  He said we'd better take
our underwear off or they'd get messy, so I got up and took mine off while
he did the same, then climbed back on.  It felt really neat, and I
instinctively knew what to do.  We humped each other like that for 15 or 20
minutes, and I could feel myself ready to come.  I didn't know till later,
but Steve was pacing himself so he could come at the same time I did, so
when I tensed on top of him, he tensed, too, and we both came almost at the
same time.  It felt so neat to feel his bare skin, then the warm
slipperiness of our semen, and I just lay there rubbing in it for what
seemed an eternity.  It was a mess, but it sure felt good.

We went home that day, but Steve and I would get together and give each
other hand jobs or hump each other at least a couple of times a month.  We
did that until he moved away to college.  He is now married and has kids,
and though we don't do that anymore, we joke about it a lot.

Anyway, after that weekend at my grandmother's house, I couldn't wait to
show Billy what I'd learned.  On the next sleepover, we camped out in the
backyard, and stayed up late.  I instructed him to lay on the sleeping bag
with his legs in my lap like I'd done with Steve, and repeated the
performance.  Billy really liked that, and so did I.  I was doing myself at
the same time as I was doing Billy, and came about the same time.  And the
next morning I taught him about humping, a great new way to masturbate.

Billy and I continued to do that together until we entered high school, and
from then we sort of drifted apart with differing interests.  We were still
friends, but seldom had sleepovers.  We masturbated each other once in a
while, but never humped again.  So that episode of my life is only a very
pleasant memory.

The first time I wrote a story was when I was 13 and wrote an account in
handwriting.  I started in English class when we were supposed to be writing
an essay.  I had been thinking of the fooling around I had done with Billy
when we camped out that time and it got me excited.  So I started to write
about it in class.  Talk about getting off!  It was such a turn on that I
creamed in my pants, which is the only time I have ever cum without touching
myself.  It felt really great, but then I had three problems.  First I had
this story on my desk that would get me in huge trouble if anyone saw what I
had written.  Second, I didn't have my assignment, since I obviously
couldn't hand that in!  Third, I had a wet sticky mess in my pants which was
not only uncomfortable, but was starting to stain my pants.  Luckily the
bell rang and I was able to run out and pretend I just forgot to hand in my
work, and I ran to the bathroom to clean up.  Luckily the majority of the
mess was contained in my underwear, so I took them off and balled them up
into my bookbag, and the remaining stain wasn't too large.  I disguised it a
little by splashing some water on my pants so it looked like the stain was
part of that.  By the end of school my pants were dry, and I had learned how
good it felt to go commando in school.  My bookbag reeked of semen, though,
so I had to be careful to no open it with anyone around.  And I had a story
written that was such a turnon to read that I jacked to it twice that night,
and I kept it for years, hidden in my special stash under my dresser drawer.
But I didn't write things like that in class again, and never cum in my
pants.  That was just too close for comfort.

I also continued to get together for mutual masturbation with my brother and
cousin Steve until they went away to college, and we never had an
opportunity to do it again.  So during my high school years, even the first
couple of years when my brother and Steve were around, and occasional
opportunities with Billy, my masturbation was mostly a solo event.  I had
never felt the guilt about masturbation like I hear many others have had.
>From when I was a young child I felt it was an OK thing to do, but in
private (I made exceptions when I discovered how much fun it was to do with
a partner, but I felt that was private, too, since we didn't do it in such a
way that others would know we were doing it together).  As I got older, I
kept it private, only doing it in the confines of my room, or other places
in the house or outside when I knew no one would have a chance to catch me
in the act.  I wasn't an exhibitionist.

I continued to use my hand most of the time, and humped a pillow
occasionally when no one was around to hear the noise of the bed shaking (I
had an old bed and it rattled a lot when you moved around on it).

College presented some unique challenges.  My first year I had a roommate
who acted as though the concept of masturbation didn't even exist.  I felt
very constrained, since I usually masturbated in bed at night, and quickly
got frustrated since I didn't dare do it with my roommate in the room.  I
found I had to sneak off to the bathroom or do it when he was off to classes
when I was free.  I got used to his schedule, so it wasn't too bad, but I
didn't like having to be sneaky about it.  The second year I had a different
roommate, and that made all the difference in the world.  He masturbated
frequently, and though he didn't flaunt it, he didn't hide it, either.  He'd
be studying or something, and say he was really horny, and lay down on his
bed and go to it.  I of course felt free to do the same, so we both openly
masturbated with each other in the room.  We never did it to each other, but
often did it at the same time.

When I got married, I wondered how I would be able to keep doing my favorite
recreation.  Even though my wife and I have had a good sexual relationship,
my lovemaking with myself has remained very special to me.  I found that my
wife doesn't mind, and she does it, too, so we are quite open about it.
Like with my college roommate, we don't flaunt it, but we don't hide it,
either.  I masturbate at least once a day now, and like to do it slowly to
make the feeling last.  I find that if I can take an hour to do it, it feels
much better than a quickie.

Now I have a 13 year old son.  He has been masturbating since he was at
least 10, and I have made it clear to him that it is OK with me.  I make
sure he has all the privacy he needs.  Unlike my school sex education class,
his was the more normal one, meaning it was pretty much content-free.  When
I saw the curriculum, I decided he needed to know more, so I had a long talk
with him about sex in general and masturbation in particular.  I told him of
the various ways to do it, and that it wasn't bad to do it with a friend if
both wanted to.  I'm sure he does it with at least one friend who sleeps
over a lot, which I think is great, as that was a source of a lot of fun and
pleasure for me at his age.  I make sure they know I won't barge in on them,
and he has a lock on his door, which I hear go "click" when the two of them
go in there.

-------------

This account is as true as my memory allows.