Masturbation Archives

Whisking

As you probably know, a whisk is a kitchen gadget used for mixing. As sex toys, they may be quite interesting. There are many accounts of women enjoying the pleasure of opening their vaginas with whisks. One can even find pictures on the internet of women, and I assume men, putting whisks into their anuses.

I suppose one has to be careful to avoid pinching where the blades of the whisk cross.

A person doesn’t necessarily have to press the whisk into themselves. I’ll bet just running the blades lightly over a vulva, scrotum, or along the ass crack may be quite erotic.

Does anyone know of something like a whisk that could be pressed into a peehole? Along the same lines, notice the end of the whisk handles. I’ll bet some are just the right size and shape for urethral stimulation. Like all urethral play, everything must be sterile and have smooth edges since the urethra is quite prone to tearing and infections.

Jerking Off is Fantastic

by Spurtz

As we all know, masturbation is a great way to relieve stress. And it feels really good. I got to thinking about all the various places I’ve masturbated and thought it was worth reviewing. Maybe bring back some good memories to my readers.

Unfortunately I really can’t remember my very early days of masturbation. At least not the specifics. My guess is that it mostly took place in bed or on the toilet. The toilet would have been preferable due to no mess to clean up and the ability to lock the door. Locking my bedroom door would have raised questions I wouldn’t want to answer.

But jerking off on the toilet had a downside. I had to push my hard cock down at an unnatural angle to shoot my cum into the bowl. And to me, that detracted somewhat from the orgasm. Cumming always feels much better to me when my cock is pointing up. More on that later.

Jacking off in bed was more satisfying although it required clean-up and if I wasn’t careful, the clean-up could involve more than just wiping semen off of my stomach and chest.

Growing up as a pre-teen we lived on a 70-acre tract and as the only boy in the family and no other kids living close by, I spent a lot of time roaming the woods behind my house by myself. Many of those hikes included taking my cock out and jacking off in the woods and watching my cum spurt onto the ground or nearby bushes.

Like all teens in high school, my dick was hard almost all the time in class. I had a couple of pairs of pants that had a hole in the right pocket. I would manage to get my cockhead through that hole and sit in class with my hand in my pocket and massage the head of my prick. One time I went too far and ended up with a load of cum in my pocket. Fortunately it didn’t bleed through the cloth and I managed to do a half-assed clean-up in the boy’s room.

Lots of masturbation occurred when I was fully dressed. If I found myself alone but worried that I might get caught, I would just unzip my pants, take my dick out, and start pounding away. Depending upon where this was taking place, I had to be conscious of where the cum would go. Sometimes into a wad of Kleenex or toilet paper and sometimes just wherever I could shoot it. The biggest concern was getting it on my clothes where my mother might see it when she washed my clothes. That did happen often enough that I’m sure she did see it but she never said anything.

By the time I was 15, while still jacking off every chance I could find, I had also discovered girls. But my sole interest back then was fucking them. Like an idiot, if I was rebuffed, I never even considered the fallback position of a handjob. Dumbass me. So most of my jackoffs were by my own hand and not that of a partner.

As I got older and had more partners, masturbation by a female partner became a part of my regular sexual activity. Lots of variations on the theme occurred. My second wife and I enjoyed the use of an outdoor hot tub. I would put my dick in front of one of the jets and she would do the same with her clit. When I reached the point of no return, I would stand up and she would jump up and jack me off onto the grass around the hot tub. I did not want to ejaculate into the water for obvious reasons. She would let the water jet finish her off.

Another thing she came up with out of the blue, was she managed to get her tongue in my asshole while jacking me off. This was the first time I begin to suspect that she was learning these tricks from another partner. This was before the internet so she didn’t pick it up there. If I had asked her, she likely would have told me that one of her girlfriends told her about it. Possibly that was true.

Another new trick she sprung on me was lubing up my dick with Vaseline. Despite me being in my 30’s, it had never occurred to me to do that. I figured she might have learned that from whoever was fucking her besides me.

While married to my second wife, we lived on a one acre lot that was heavily landscaped. Tons of yardwork was required which I really enjoyed doing. My favorite dress for yardwork was a t-shirt and some cutoff jeans. With no underwear. The jeans were cut quite short and while working in the yard, my cock would manage to work its way down one leg with the head exposed. That would lead to me rubbing the head and getting a full hard-on. Once I was hard, jerking off was the logical next step. I remember the many times I would get my dick out right in my yard and jack off onto the grass. The heavy landscaping kept me from being seen by any neighbors or passers-by. This literally occurred every time I worked in the yard. There was something taboo about it that made it super sexy.

One girl I dated for a while liked to play with my dick while we were driving in the car. The problem with it was a couple of times she went too far and I couldn’t hold back cumming. At the time you don’t give a shit about where the cum is going to go but afterwards, when there’s jism splattered all over your clothes, it becomes a real problem. She always thought it was hilariously funny for me to be covered in cum.

For a couple of years between marriages I had a fuckbuddy who was great fun. Nothing was taboo and she loved to jack me off. She was a hairdresser and would come to my house to cut my hair. When I knew she was coming I would edge for several hours ahead of time so I was primed by the time she got there. I would strip and sit in a chair in my kitchen and she would cut my hair. When she finished I would jack off while she watched. The goal was to see how far I could shoot. She actually got down with a tape measure and measured off a couple of inches short of five feet. On a second similar try I thought I had exceeded that number but another measurement was basically the same. After I came, we would jump in the shower together and by the time we got out, I was primed for more sex which would entail blowjobs and fucking.

One other time we both sitting naked on my balcony. She jacked me off and I shot over the balcony railings. I was on the third floor. I looked down and the first floor condo had a patio and there on the patio was a table with several blobs of semen splattered on it. Luckily nothing ever came of it.

The two of us were in San Jose Del Cabo at the tip of Baja. We had a late dinner and then walked the totally deserted main street of the town. I had to pee really bad and she encouraged me to do it in a doorway. I said I would if she would hold my cock for me. She did and when I finished peeing she started jerking me off and kept it up until I shot a load onto the sidewalk. This was right in the middle of town but it was midnight and we were pretty much on our own.

Then my third wife loved to play with my dick. But she had a thing about not wasting my cum. I had to finish off either down her throat or in her pussy. That was a bit of a setback for me because I’ve always got off on seeing the semen spurt out of my dick. That’s a sight I dearly love. Plenty of women get off on a good cumshot, but not my wife.

So she would give me a great handjob but once I got close, I had to finish off down her throat. Don’t get me wrong. Those were some fabulous orgasms as she sucked the cum out of my dick.

Later in life between marriage number two and three, I got involved with some M2M sessions. Some mutual jackoffs with another guy. Then I promoted several circle jerks with anywhere from four to six guys total. Lots of great jacking off and cum spurting. Even had my then girlfriend join one of the circle jerks and she jerked off all four of us to spurting orgasms. Great fun. One of the circle jerk guys brought his cute girlfriend to a threesome with me. No fucking but she jerked us both off. I loved it when she took some tissues and wiped my dick and chest clean of cum. Very, very hot. I’ve never really understood my reasoning, but getting all the cum cleaned up by my partner is very erotic to me. Holding my dick and wiping the still engorged dripping head clean of cum is the best. Love it.

In recent years with the advent of the internet and endless porn available, most of my jacking takes place in front of the computer in my home office. My office chair sits on one of those large plastic mats and I can just spurt my load right onto the mat for easy cleanup. Again, cock angle has a lot to do with the degree of pleasure achieved through orgasm. If I remain sitting, I have to push my dick down in order to easily shoot onto the plastic mat. So I usually stand up and just bend over. But the process of going from sitting to standing while whacking away, somehow lessens the intensity of the orgasm. The solution is to remain sitting and just not aim my dick at the floor. Unfortunately, the result of that is cum shooting all over my chest and lap. Sometimes I’m in the nude so it would be reasonably OK to do that but most of the time I’m clothed with just my pants pulled down and the result would be sticky semen all over everything.

It’s been years since I’ve jacked off in bed. Occasionally, I will be sitting out on my back patio and get the urge to cum. So I go ahead and jack off and then shoot onto the adjacent plot of grass. I’ve been single for quite some time now, so I can jack off very frequently with no concern of being interrupted. Although I do think one of the gardening crew might have caught a glimpse of me jacking my dick one time. Years ago, in a different house in a different town, the gardening crew was a man and his wife. She clearly saw me jacking off one time and even after I was aware that she saw me, she continued to watch until I shot my load. I was too close to even think about stopping. Then she turned away and went back to work.

Even at a fairly advanced age, I usually jack off twice a day. Sometimes more

Happy jacking, fellow masturbators.

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Feeling Like a Kid Among Adults

I went to Body Electric in Berkeley, California to try out their Thursday night tantric male massage sessions. I had a great time. There were about 40 men there. We all got naked, then broke into random groups of three. Each group surrounded a massage table. We each got a 20-minute massage from the other two guys. The massages started with a perfunctory general massage, but soon turned into genital massage. But this was a ‘tantric’ thing. I didn’t really understand the philosophy. The general idea seemed to be that one can, probably even should, become erect, but not ejaculate. For me, it was difficult to avoid orgasming, but I managed to hold off for the full twenty minutes when it was my turn. I really enjoyed massaging the other two guys as well. I went home horny and charged up. It was an interesting experience. I felt clearer than usual, as if colors were brighter, quiet sounds more noticeable, and smells more interesting.

Of course as soon as I got home, I wanked and ejaculated big-time, but even still, I felt slightly better than average the whole next day.

I returned a week later and participated in another three-way massage. Before starting, I asked the instructor whether it would be OK to forego the general massage portion, and have the guys go right into the genital massage when it was my turn. He said that was fine. I then asked if it was OK to ejaculate. I expected some lecture about how that’s not within the paradigm of what they’re doing there. Instead, he said that’s just fine also. I also asked to go last, because I knew what might happen. If I was first or second, and then I ejaculated, I would loose interested in massaging the other guys.

So, I went last. When it was my turn, I came after about ten minutes, and immediately felt foolish. Worse, I still had ten minutes to go. The guys tried to keep me hard and interested, but frankly, the last ten minutes, while not quite torture, were less than ideal as I went soft, and was quite bothered by the ongoing touch.

Bottom line: I felt like a stupid kid among adults after doing that. I’m slowly learning in life that most people have reasons for what they do. Being a rebel, trying to do things differently, is not always the best way to do things.

Personal Experiences with Sounding

Akelo recently published a nice article about urethral sounding. I was going to write a comment on his article but it grew long, so I figured it’s an article in itself.

For those who don’t know, sounding is the idea of sticking an object into your peehole, and potentially deep into your urethra. In some cases, people will penetrate all the way into their bladders. It has also been referred to as “peehole play” and “urethral fucking.” Then there’s catheter play, which is a variation of sounding in which you use actual medical urethral catheters. Here you go:

I agree, sounding is a wonderful feeling. especially deep sounding which gives you something like a ‘gotta pee’ feeling, but much nicer.

I started around age thirteen, before I could even ejaculate. I had a darkroom thermometer with a 6-inch long smooth metal stem. My neighbor, same age as me, didn’t want me to sound him, but he, and occasionally his twin sister, put that thermometer in my little penis several times. Oh, what fun! I really wanted to play with his sister’s peehole, but that never happened.

But as you alluded, it is also risky. I did once give myself a whopping infection. It started in my prostate, which felt weird, itched a bit, and colored my semen red with traces of blood. A day later, the inflammation traveled to my epididymis and balls which swelled up to the size of tangerines and hurt like hell for two weeks. I thought I had been all careful and sterilized everything nicely.

These days, I don’t do much sounding. I’ve decided I can have fantastic orgasms by other means, which I’ve written elsewhere, so why take the risk?

During my urethral play, I did find that one can insert solid sounds all the way into the bladder by bending the penis downward enough to get a mostly straight path. I played with silicone sounds, but one time, a friend was sounding me with a flexible sound. The lube was evidently absorbed and when he pulled the sound out, it kind of stuck to part of my urethra. That caused me to bleed rather profusely and freaked him out. Fortunately, I healed from that in a day or so.

They say fairly large diameter sounds are safer than narrow ones, which I believe can puncture through your urethra and cause a really bad day. One time I found clear tubing in an auto supply store. I bough diameters from 1/8-inch to 1/2-inch. I melted the ends with a flame, and sanded them smooth. I was absolutely surprised to find I could work the 3/8-diameter tube all the way to my prostate, but didn’t manage to get it into my bladder.

Have you ever had the effect where you enter a tube into your bladder and it kind of shudders? My theory is that the opening of the tube against the side of the bladder causes the bladder wall to flex, letting the urine flow, then obstructing it, over and over at perhaps 5 times per second. It’s probably dangerous, but a very interesting feeling.

I’ve also blown air into my bladder, and let it fart out through the urethra. Talk about an interesting feeling! You feel the vibrations deep in you body, around the urethral sphincters and prostate. Toward the end, the air mixes with urine, and you get bubbles or suds coming out of your peehole. However, I’m probably lucky to still be alive. I believe the air could have traveled up to my kidneys, and caused any number of problems from infection to embolism.

Oh, and then there was the time I had gone to a convention. I was in a hotel room all by myself. They provided stationery including a long tapered pen. How fascinating, right? Well, there was no lube. I found a packet of shampoo in the bathroom. I decided that might make nice lube. I pushed the pen about 4 inches into my dick, but the shampoo started to sting, so I took it out, and just jerked off. As I ejaculated, it stung quite badly.

My penis started to really sting after that. It was so bad that it took me twenty minutes to pee, letting out one little painful squirt at a time. The stinging was so bad I couldn’t stand fully upright. It continued for three days.

In conclusion, play with safer techniques. I’m living (thankfully) proof that you can fuck up badly. I have since found that you can experiment with glans rubbing or firm testicle massage, if you want intensity, or you can learn to have continuous dry orgasms spanning an hour or more. Oh my goodness, nothing compares to that! I have written up the techniques here and elsewhere. Enjoy!

Uncle Don Broke My Penis

My grandfather died when my father was 22 and his brother, my Uncle Don, was 24. Grandfather was a drinker, and managed to kill himself in a fiery single-car collision. He had some money that my dad and Uncle Don inherited in equal shares two years before I was born.

Uncle Don convinced my dad to lend him his half of the money so Don could buy a mobile home park. Somehow, Dad was never able to get repaid even after Don started accumulating wealth. While Don eventually owned three mobile home parks, Dad, Mom, and I rented one of Don’s homes. It was the only single-wide trailer in the park. To get technical, our’s was a mobile home. Anything made after 1974 is called a ‘manufactured home.’ Dad worked as a bus driver.

Mom ran off when I was twelve. The story goes that Don sexually assaulted her, resulting in her having two broken teeth. She took him to court, but lost the case, since there was no proof that he had done anything. Fearing for her life, she disappeared.

When I was 18, I decided to learn something about business so I started attending City College, which was quite difficult financially, even though I still lived with Dad. I had this notion that I’d like to own a mobile home park someday, seeing how profitable they’ve been for my uncle. Unlike Don, I’d treat my tenants right. I figured I could learn enough about business to manage my own park some day.

I was still in my first year, when something went wrong with the circuitry in our trailer. Without electric, there was no heat.

Don said he’d send his handyman, but knowing Uncle Don, that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Don was well-known for treating his tenants badly, even my father, his own brother. After all, his tenants have no choice. Their mobile homes are fastened to the ground. It would cost them tens of thousands of dollars to move.

Uncle Don did invite Dad and I to stay in his place until the electric got fixed. I stayed in Nancy’s room, and Dad stayed in Ned’s room.

Those were my late cousins. Nancy committed suicide at 16, and Ned had taken up drugs and drinking. Soon, Ned was hopelessly addicted. Don threw him out. He was seen around town from time to time, barely hanging on. One day, he had fallen asleep behind a dumpster that was in back of Safeway. The next morning, a garbage truck picked up the dumpster, emptied it, and set it down right on Ned. But that may not be what killed him. According to the police, he might have already been dead, either from a drug overdose, or exposure to the cold. The poor guy had a cast on one leg when he died, so I can only imagine what his last weeks were like.

My first night at Don’s, I went to bed around midnight. It was warm in Don’s house, so I figured I’d jerk off on top of the blankets before falling asleep. I was just about to orgasm when the door burst open and the light came on.

“I’ll have none of that in my house!” Don shouted. He was obviously drunk as he staggered toward me. He was carrying something that turned out to be a tennis racket. He took a swing and hit me right in one testicle and the side of my still erect penis.

I crumpled up in pain as he wobbled out of the room. My balls, my left testicle in particular, hurt so bad, I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was choking as I lay there with my hands between my legs. Ten minutes later, I could breathe normally, but the pain was still unbelievable. I couldn’t even get off the bed to turn out the light.

An hour went by as I just lay there, not only in pain, but freaking out that I was badly injured. The testicle pain started to subside, and then I noticed that my penis was in pain also.

I pulled my hands away and took a look. My penis was as large as if it was erect. In fact, it was bigger in diameter than I had ever seen it, but it was soft and squishy. It had a big black lump on the left side, and curved oddly to the right, much like the picture below.

Not knowing what else to do, I yelled for Don to come take me to the hospital. After probably 15 minutes, he came back to my room, evidently a bit more sober. I showed him my penis. He refused to take me to the hospital, saying “It’s not that bad,” as he walked out, closing the door behind him.

The only thing I could think to do was call an ambulance. That’s how I got to the hospital. While the ambulance was on its way, I tried putting on my underwear. I couldn’t straighten up enough to do that, so I ended up putting on my sweat pants. I stayed barefoot.

After two painful hours in the waiting room, still barefoot, during which my testicle pain went away, but my dick started aching worse than anything in my life. My dad arrived and sat with me, occasionally swearing under his breath about Don.

When I was finally called into a treatment area, the doctors and nurses all took a look at my penis. I wasn’t embarrassed about them seeing my junk due to the condition I was in. How could something like this happen to me? My fear was such that my heart had been beating really fast for literally hours. A urologist was consulted. It took him another hour to arrive. He looked at my penis, held it gingerly, shifting it this way and that. Man alive, did that hurt!

He quit examining me, and sat on a stool to tell me the situation: I’d need surgery, which was to be performed later that morning. My testicle was fine, but Don had literally broken my penis. The side of the tennis racket, hitting my erect penis like that, caused a fracture of my left corpus cavernosum, the spongy tissue that holds blood when one is erect.

They were going to do something called ‘degloving’ to reach and stitch up the affected area. The idea totally weirded me out. Frankly, it scared the shit out of me. The surgeon was going to detach the skin of my penis all around just behind the head. Then, they dissect and peel the skin away all the way down, so the skin is piled around the base of the penis. That gives them access to the broken area. They’d do the repair and then finally, they would pull the skin back up, and stitch it back in place under the head.

Even with the medicine they gave me, I didn’t sleep much during the few hours left of that night, and was still in considerable pain.

The surgery happened, and my recovery was painful, but uneventful. When a nurse changed my bandages the first time, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was circumcised! I so totally didn’t want that. When the urologist came in for a consult, I asked him why that happened. He said, “I thought you’d like that.”

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

The afternoon after my surgery, when I was still woozy from the drugs, Don stormed into my hospital room, and started yelling at me about the $2,700 the ambulance company charged him for the one-mile ride to the hospital. Two orderlies came and took him away.

I woke up a couple of times every night with sharply painful nocturnal erections. For days, I wanted badly to jerk off, but that fully wasn’t going to happen.

A week later, the stitches were removed by an attractive young intern. She had flaming red hair. I thought she’d use anesthetic, but she said, “You won’t need it.” That scared me, until she started snipping and pulling the stitches out. She was right. It didn’t hurt a bit. I became erect, and was remarkably embarrassed about that. She only said, “Aw, it’s fine.”

I noticed that my dick was quite numb as she was working on it.

Finally, after three weeks, I was starting to get back to normal and was way overdue for a good wank. Ever so carefully, I tried moving the skin up and down. It was totally numb. I could feel my penis between my fingertips, but the dick itself felt like a broomstick. There was no sensation at all. Still, I was able to jerk off and cum. What a relief!

The numbness worried me very much. I asked the urologist, and he said the feeling would eventually come back. It did, but it took six months. It took even longer than that to get used to being circumcised. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. At least the terrible sensitivity of the glans has gone mostly away. Just touching against my underwear was like an unbearable tickle for the first few weeks. To this day, my penis feels weird when I rub it, like there are little lumps under the skin.

Meanwhile, a friend of a friend had a father who was a lawyer and suggested I sue Uncle Don. The case dragged on for months. Meanwhile, I was back in our trailer with Dad, and back in college. In a courtroom appearance, pictures of my penis were shown. It was terribly embarrassing. First, the horrible picture of my black, lumpy, bent, fractured penis. Then my penis with stitches under the corona, and fully erect. The urologist had injected something called Caverject to make me artificially hard to check his work.

To my amazement, the lawyer won. I was awarded 1.5 million dollars. The lawyer got $500,000, leaving me a cool million. I was planning to buy a mobile home park of my own.

The only problem was, the money hadn’t been transferred yet. Don was pulling some legal shit that was slowing the process.

Just when I was figuring I’d never see the money, something unexpected happened. Don had gone out drinking, and somehow drove his car right into a bridge abutment. He messed up his innards something terrible. He languished in terrible pain in the hospital for three weeks before he died. I shouldn’t say this, but I was secretly happy. The world is better off without a guy like that.

I figured that was the end of my million dollars, but even more surprising was the call from Don’s lawyer. My fucked up uncle had written a will. He had left two of his mobile home parks to my father, and one to me. Mine was assessed at over $5 million.

Twelve Students

I’m going to be a psychologist when I grow up. In fact, I believe I’ll specialize in sexual research. I’ve learned a few things already. For instance, if you want something, don’t be shy. Just ask! That seemingly simple technique works wonders!

Knowing that, I went to Dr. Wilton, the principal of our school, laid out my plan, and asked his permission. Now, you should know that our school is progressive. Established in 1978, it’s a ‘free school’ meaning open curriculum. Or, at least it was back in ’78. Over the years, it has become an almost typical high school, although instead of ordinary electives, we have two hours each afternoon to study exactly what we want. Much of this study is not on school grounds, but all over the city, at various volunteer mentors’ homes and places of business. The teachers, who prefer to call themselves ‘counselors’ guide us in integrating our own interests such that we end up writing, learning relevant math, and presenting our projects, so that we end up well-rounded. Interestingly, several graduates of our school have gone on to have illustrious careers.

So, when I told Dr. Wilton that I wanted to conduct a research study, involving 24 kids, he didn’t balk. Well, not entirely. When I told him I wanted 12 kids to masturbate together daily, then chronicle their results in their social lives against 12 kids who didn’t masturbate, or at least not as often and socially, he did his best to suppress an expression of shock, then he told me:

1. There was to be no sexual activity beyond masturbation. No penetrating of anyone’s anything.

2. None of the ‘counselors’ could supervise, because they could too easily be construed as being involved in illegal ways since we were minors.

3. For the same reason, this could not be conducted on school premises.

4. It was to be stated in any presentation, written, video, or live, that the school was in no way associated with this research.

Frankly, I was rather amazed that he went along with it at all. At the end, he told me that he thought it was a very valid experiment, and he would be very interested to read the results. He went on to say that masturbation ought to be a required subject in school, like physical education, so that students wouldn’t be dealing with pent up horniness, and therefore they’d be better able to study. I was my turn to be shocked, hearing this coming out of an adult!

Getting 12 kids to participate as masturbators wasn’t easy. Almost to a person, they said ‘yes’ then a day or so later they backed out. Finally, after pestering everyone in sight, I got my twelve, 8 boys, and 4 girls.

You’d think that getting the 12 control students would be easier. First, I went to the Christian club. They were amused, but informed me that Christians do masturbate, quite often, in fact. “This is not your father’s Christianity” they told me. We don’t hold wanking as a taboo.

Anyway, I got six kids from the club. After all, my control group wasn’t supposed be kids who didn’t jerk off at all. They were supposed to represent more-or-less normal kids. Finally, I also got six kids who weren’t in the club, two of which claimed that they don’t masturbate at all. All these kids had to do was fill out questionnaires about their social lives at the start and then again at the end of the six-week experiment. The masturbating group had to fill out the exact same questionnaires.

The last thing on the agenda was to find a place, since we couldn’t use any school facilities. My main counselor, Mr. Taylor, offered his guest house. This guy had inherited quite a bit of money. I believe he was a teacher by choice, not because he needed the money. His guest house was bigger than my family’s whole house, with a large, carpeted, well-furnished living room. Other school activities had been held there. He warned me that since he couldn’t be there to supervise, we’d better not leave a mess, or our use of the place would be terminated instantly. No food wrappers left on table tops, no stains on the carpet, and that sort of thing. I agreed.

The first day started out quite awkwardly. We had 10 kids, plus me as the moderator. I decided that I’d be one of the test subjects, as well. (How could I resist?) One of the boys, Jeremy, had a dental appointment on that first day.

We all gathered at Mr. Taylor’s house, and sat around on the sofas and chairs for quite a while making uncomfortable small talk. I didn’t quite know how to get the festivities under way. Fortunately, this group were all enthusiastic about what was to unfold, but not one was taking their clothes off. Kyle piped up with a suggestion, “Turn up the heat. It’s fucking cold in here.”

Oh, right, of course people would be more inclined to get naked if the room was warm. May found the thermostat and turned it up. Kendra suggested we might start with some dancing. A couple of the kids found Mr. Taylor’s stereo and CDs, and put on some music.

We started dancing. It was fun, even though there were twice as many boys as girls. Still, everyone was clothed, and the nervousness in the room was palpable. I figured out it was up to me to get things going, and if I didn’t start soon, I could feel that the people were going to start heading home, disappointed, and not likely to ever return.

I took off my shirt, so I was topless. A couple of the other boys followed my lead. Then, the magic got underway: Yvette took off her top, revealing her wonderful tits! Oh my god, I felt something like adrenaline flow through my lower stomach area. This was going to become real. Until now, I hadn’t allowed myself to fully imagine what was going to happen.

Teddy whistled, and the other boys were practically drooling. Come to think of it, I believe May was kind of drooling also. I was having trouble taking my eyes off Yvette, but when I glanced to my left, there was Sandra topless, also. Her tits were small, but absolutely beautiful.

Paul was the boldest among us, always the one to crack risqué jokes, always the life of the party in any group, always smiling, always willing to take dares, so it’s no surprise that he as casually as if he were stepping into his own home shower, he stripped totally naked in front of everyone. More than that, his little wiener, oddly still hairless, considering he was 15 years old, was sticking up at a 45 angle fully erect, and waving back and forth as he danced.

To shorten a long story, it wasn’t long before we were all naked, and all the boys were erect. The dancing kind of faded out, as we all took positions on the various chairs and couches in the room. No one was wanking at first. There were eight young erections at full attention, and four very excited young girls, but nothing was happening.

I said to myself, “OK,” took a deep breath, and started working the skin of my penis up and down. Within ten seconds, everyone else was wanking furiously.

Thinking intelligently for just a moment, I warned the boys not to get cum on the furniture. This caused May to laugh, adding, “And girls, don’t get anything wet, either!”

That first day, all the boys except Will came within a minute or two, and Will was only a couple minutes behind. The girls were all moaning and arching their backs in orgasmic delight also. Even though no one touched anyone, it was the most erotic day of my life. When I got home, I jerked off again, remembering the day, and especially the four pretty girls. Even May, with her extra-wide body, was a real looker, in my opinion.

We were obligated to meet at Mr. Taylor’s house three afternoons a week for the duration of the six-week experiment, and with great enthusiasm, almost everyone showed up all the time. There would be the occasional kid who missed a day due to a family obligation, medical exam, or maybe detention for doing something stupid in school, and they always expressed great disappointment.

I had recommended to everyone that we keep this whole thing a secret. That didn’t last long. The whole school was aware of our little group, and I was asked like a million times whether others could join. I really wanted to let them all in, but I couldn’t. It would either wreck the accuracy of the experiment, or maybe even get us all kicked out of Mr. Taylor’s guest house.

After that first day, it didn’t take us long to get really, really involved. I mean, by the end of the experiment, I had been wanked, and I had done lots of wanking of others. I had had my fingers in all the girls’ asses, and most of the boys, too. I was just loving my daily dose of fingering the various girls’ pussies. At the start, I didn’t think I’d care for oral sex at all, but after Kendra gave me that first blowjob, I was hooked. Kyle developed a strong liking for the taste of cum, so he sucked me many times. I learned to love giving cunnilingus, and fellatio, too.

However, we were all very good students. We never fucked anyone. Somehow, everyone was very good about that. Oh, there was lots of kissing and hugging going on, and two of the girls became quite steady with two of the guys, but at least in Mr. Taylor’s guest house, no one did anything in the way of fucking.

Six weeks came and went all too soon. I had all the kids from both groups fill out the questionnaires. Unfortunately, from a scientific point of view, the experiment was a failure. There were no discernible trends. I had hoped that the study would reveal that the masturbatory group was more socially settled, less frantic about sexual matters, than the other group, but the results were nearly the same for both groups, with perhaps just a slightly better outcome for the wankers.

There was only one thing to do about the nebulous results: Run the experiment again.

Translation

I found this very weird translation from Japanese on a sex toy website:

Continue on the edge, the sperm cow shot from a few minutes to now can last for half an hour. ABS strong contraction, drive the anus shrinkage pull, thus driving the prostate extrusion, silent pleasure a wave devour the will of the fine cow. As a punishment, this time will not give him the power to ejaculate. Feelings of loss evoke the infinite desire and physiological desire of the fine cow for the next opportunity.

Edging:
Camouflage + elastic Binding belt, air filter hood reduces the Roar volume, but also forces the fine cow to breathe to obtain more oxygen. The scrotum binds to the traction to avoid the fine cow swinging violently because of the sensitivity of the tortoise, while also gaining a different pleasure through local numbness and pain. Coronal ditch smear Swiss navy lubricating oil, reduce friction coefficient, avoid fine cattle early horse. Then, it depends on the performance of the dairy farmers.

Sounding:
Three months, not less than three times a week, full paraffin lubrication after the expansion of the urethra, now, sent to his dream of double sounding. He says the desire for subjugation and unknown fear of urethral pleasure, mixed with prostate pleasure, is unstoppable. Again, the body’s ductility and adaptability is very strong, the body is a large sexual organs waiting for you to explore to develop. Do a good job of disinfection lubrication and no monkey urgency, the risk of infection is extremely low.

Tony and Anne By The Pool

I had met Tony recently. I knew he, like I, was married with grown kids. I hadn’t met his wife yet.

I thought I knew him well enough to drop by his house unannounced. Friends can do that, right?

So, I drove over and rang the doorbell. His wife answered. What a knockout! She’s Asian and petite. I’ve always been attracted to small women, and Asian women! Her name is Anne. She told me to go around back, Tony was by the pool.

It made sense, it was a hot Saturday afternoon. I was thinking, as I walked along the side of the house toward the back yard, ‘How lucky, Tony and Anne have a pool.’ I wished my wife, Lorie, and I had one.

I came around the corner of the house, and saw the concrete area surrounding the pool, and the pool itself with a big inflatable toy idly floating on the water. But I didn’t see Tony – at first.

My gaze went to some loungers by the side of the pool, and there was Tony, laying in one of them. At that moment, I quickly decided I should turn and sneak away quickly and quietly. Because, you see, Tony was not only stark naked, but masturbating a very erect penis!

As I started to turn, Tony yelled, “Oh, Hello Tom. So nice of you to drop by!”

Now, I couldn’t just sneak away. I felt like I was caught. Caught with my pants down. How weird is that? I mean, I catch the guy jerking off, and I’m the one who feels trapped, embarrassed!

What could I do? Hesitantly, I turned back toward Tony and took a step closer.

“Oh Tom, it’s fine, I was just jerking off. No need to run off like that,” he laughed.

Then he added, “Why don’t you join me?”

What in the world does one do in such a circumstance? Of course I’d masturbated a thousand times. I was no stranger to the activity. But with another guy? Never!

My mind was racing. What should I do? What should I do? It all happened in a moment. My logical mind said there was nothing wrong with it. Really, what’s wrong with masturbating with a friend? But there was my whole upbringing fighting against me. Wasn’t nudism generally wrong? What about the church? My religion, I mean? What does it teach about this? Trying hard to figure it out, I realized there was nothing bad about wanking with a friend. Why, just a month or so ago in church, the preacher, mostly directing his sermon to some of the youngsters in the congregation, alluded that masturbation was an acceptable alternative to premarital sex. I was almost shocked at the time, but I knew that he was helping the kids by saying that.

Well, I couldn’t just walk away. To say something, anything, wouldn’t work. Like, “Hey Tony, I see you’re busy.” Nope. Or, “Oh my God!” No, that wouldn’t work either.

I must have looked ridiculous approaching the empty lounge chair next to him so slowly. Tony just smiled – and continued stroking his erection. I couldn’t help myself. I glanced, then I stared. Then, catching myself staring at his hand working on his penis, I tried looking away, but that wasn’t quite right either. Like, I was obviously trying to look away. Geez!

It took me a full two minutes, but finally my Sandals, T-shirt, shorts and underwear came off, and I was in the lounger next to my friend. My penis, however, stayed soft.

Frankly, looking back on it, I found the scene surprisingly erotic. This was some serious ice-breaking. To be able to jerk off with a male friend was something I had sort of fantasized about, but here it was becoming real. But it also scared the bejeepers out of me. Why, I don’t know exactly. Maybe it was because his wife might catch us. Or a neighbor. But, no, there was a tall fence all the way around the yard. And Anne, well I guess she knew what her husband was doing out here. Or did she? Hell, I had no idea. But what if Anne caught me? Would that be right? My mind was still spinning. Meanwhile, after stroking my soft noodle next to Tony for a while, it was starting to stiffen up.

Tony had been saying some stuff, but I barely heard it through the noise going on in my brain. I pieced back together what he was saying, “Nice cock, Tom. I’m so glad you decided to drop by.”

I was thinking how totally accepting he was. And more, he hadn’t even flinched when I showed up. I mean, if I was caught wanking in my own back yard by a new friend, I’d probably run screaming into the house.

I was starting to get that ‘gonna cum’ feeling, so I slowed down. I wanted this to last. Evidently, Tony was quite good at edging, since he had been wanking before I arrived, and was still wanking away, evidently in no hurry, and without a care in the world.

Suddenly, the sliding glass door on the back of the house slid open. Adrenaline shot through my system. Anne appeared carrying a tray. What was I supposed to do? Should I grab my underpants and put them back on? No time for that. Should I go somewhere? Do something? What? Talk about a deer in the headlights! I was totally frozen, still with my hand on my erect penis, but I had stopped stroking.

“I thought you boys would enjoy some lemonade,” she said as she approached us with the tray, handing me a glass, and the other glass to Tony. To accept the glass, I had to take my hand off my penis. I accepted the glass, my penis standing straight up in the slight but warm breeze. Tony and Anne acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

What could possibly happen next? Might she take off her dress and join us? Wouldn’t that be something? But it didn’t happen. She returned to the house with her empty tray.

Tony and I talked a bit about tennis of all things as we sipped our lemonade. He kept stroking with his other hand. I followed his lead. The distraction of the drinks kept us away from orgasming. After we had finished the drinks and talked a bit more, Tony started tensing up and grunting. I was able to witness several shots of white semen shooting out of his penis and onto his belly.

I’ve always liked cumshots in porn. I don’t know why. So, naturally, that set me off, and I started ejaculating also.

Afterward, we toweled off the sperm, and then jumped in the pool. While soaking in the deliciously cool water, we talked a bit more. This time, it wasn’t about tennis. It was about sex and masturbation. “Oh, yes,” Tony informed me, “Sometimes Anne joins me out by the pool. We do have sex, but more often, we really enjoy masturbating side by side.”

He went on to tell me this was the first time she had seen another man jerking off with her husband. Tony suspected she really enjoyed seeing that, and suggested I should come by more often. He even went so far as to say she might join us. I asked whether my wife was invited.

“Hell yes!” was his answer.

That excited me in more ways than I can say. Lorie is adventurous, and might just go for this. Plus, she’s a real looker with her tall, slim body and beautiful red hair. I’d like Anne and Tony to see her in all her glory.

I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Lorie about my interesting afternoon.

Sword Swallower

I went to a vaudeville revival convention a few years ago. Dancers, musicians, jugglers, mimes, clowns, ventriloquists, comedians, and others attended. I fancied myself a bit of a magician, but it was more a hobby than a profession.

I didn’t know anyone, and I wasn’t even sure they’d let me in, but they welcomed me with open arms. Four days in, and I felt very accepted. I was becoming one of them, seemingly a big, happy, if somewhat weird international family. Most of the people knew each other from years and years back. They grew up in the business together. They’d meet at various theaters and so on. I noticed they were a very horny, sexual lot. There was frequent innuendo and outright sexual discussion. I gathered a lot of intercourse and other activities went on in the hotel rooms among these people.

So one night, a sword swallower, a guy named Jeremy Blue, was going to do a private show. I was invited, along with like a hundred other people. Everyone was saying that it was going to be a very unusual show, with something more than sword swallowing.

So, we’re all chit-chatting in the audience, when the curtain opens, and out comes Jeremy with a tray of various sword-like things.

True to form, he did some real geeky sword swallowing. Now, I’m not really a fan of such things. It’s not a magic trick. It’s real. Sword swallowers have trained their throats to accept foreign objects, and they really do stick metal things down through their esophagus right into the stomach. The thing that was cool, is this guy had a great onstage personality. He was truly funny. You didn’t have to like sword swallowing to enjoy his show.

Next, he did some things with fire. Putting out balls of fire in his mouth. Spitting flames, juggling three flaming balls.

Then, a hush came over the audience. Many of them evidently knew something I didn’t.

Jeremy started doing a striptease on the stage. I thought it was a joke, but he kept going until he had not a stitch on. Not only that, he was more naked than most, explaining that he didn’t have any hair except on the top of his head because it would interfere with his fire show tricks.

He proceeded to rub fire wands over his stomach, chest, and even his face. I couldn’t help noticing that he was growing an erection during this process. He seemed totally unabashed, like an erection on a stage in front of a hundred cheering performers was normal, an everyday occurrence. I was shocked, but somehow fascinated, maybe even delighted also. Now, I’m not gay, but I do appreciate the human body, whether male or female.

He stopped, lit what looked like a wad of cloth on fire, and held the flames under his balls for a very long time. I don’t know why that didn’t burn him. He put that out, and seemed to be done with fire.

Now, he grabbed one last implement from his tray. It looked like a miniature sword. He handed it to someone in the front row, and it was passed around. I got to touch it for a moment. It was indeed a miniature sword, about fifteen inches long, with an additional six inches of a small handle. The edges were not at all sharp. In fact, it was highly polished stainless steel in a sort of oval shape. Somewhat like the handle of a fork, but tapered toward a dull but pointy end.

The small sword came back to the stage, where Jeremy rubbed it with something. In a moment, the smell wafted from the stage down to us in the audience. It was rubbing alcohol. Then he rubbed it with something else, oil I assume. All the while, it never occurred to me what he might do with such a thing. I was too focused on his ongoing erection, which he had continued to ignore during this whole thing with the little sword. He continued to tell funny jokes. Then, he sat in a chair, and the whole crowd leaned forward to see better. A big TV screen lit up behind him, so we didn’t have to strain to see what he was going to do next.

And what he did, sent me into a masturbation frenzy back in my hotel room right after the show. He slowly stuck that sword into his peehole. Eventually all fifteen inches disappeared into his penis, while he was explaining how it felt going past his two sphincters. Did you know there are two urinary sphincters? I didn’t. One is voluntary, the other involuntary, he explained. He left it in a moment, then started masturbating with it buried all the way to the handle. He announced ‘I’m now orgasming.’ We could all see his muscles throughout his body tensing and we could see his penis and perineal area pulsing on the monitor, but nothing came out. He stayed stationary for a couple of minutes. It seemed to take quite a while for his orgasm to end. Then he slowly withdrew the little sword. When the tip came out of his peehole, it was followed by a couple drops of semen. He put on a robe, accepted his very enthusiastic applause with a big smile, and the curtain closed.

I’m no sword swallower, and I value my life, so I’m not going to experiment with Jeremy’s urethral trick, even though the thought has occurred to me. But I hear the urethra is very prone to infection, as well as physical damage, so I’ll stick with ordinary masturbation – while I replay in my mind what Jeremy did, thank you very much!

Surrogate

Like you, my wife has quit putting out. And she’s only 47 years old. Dang!

Well anyway, a week before my 48th birthday, she asked what I wanted.

I immediately said, “Sex.”

She got all huffy, then settled down, explaining for the millionth time, it was her ‘hormones.’

Whatever, right?

Then she asked, “What if I get you a surrogate?”

“You mean like a whore?”

“No, not at all. Maybe like a proper sex worker, or a therapist or something?”

We both fell silent, because even though the idea was certainly attractive, I couldn’t imagine any practical way it could work.

The discussion was forgotten. A week later, on the evening of my birthday, our niece LuLu was over for dinner. I was almost sullen. So far, my birthday had been uneventful, and the last thing I wanted to do was to have to sit down to dinner with this young girl with whom I had nothing in common other than her course of study.

She did seem more bubbly and sparkly-eyed than normal, which is saying a lot for her. She’s thin and naturally active, almost hyper-active.

We talked about her schooling. She was studying to be a psychologist. I felt honored in a way, because that is my profession, and I liked to think part of her decision to pursue psychology was due to me.

Then she floored me by announcing that she was planning to focus on sexuality. I almost choked on my bite of potato.

In her non-stop, active way, without hardly taking a breath, she went on to say that she’s a big advocate of sex as a way to heal many of society’s ills, and especially personal ills. She clarified, saying masturbation was one of the best outlets a person can allow themselves, and went on to expound on the benefits of wanking.

Despite our age difference, and my wife sitting right there with us, I became fascinated. And, I can admit, I felt a stirring in my pants, as I was imagining this young woman involved in the activities she was describing. Obviously, she must masturbate frequently, since that’s such a strong part of her belief system.

As I was pondering that, and LuLu stopped for an odd moment, my wife interjected, “So you like to masturbate a lot?”

“Oh, yes,” she freely admitted.

My wife didn’t stop there. Turning to me, “And you masturbate quite a bit too, don’t you?”

Geez! That was embarrassing. How does one answer that? But, figuring how forthcoming LuLu was being, I went ahead and admitted that I do wank quite a bit.

The conversation intensified, until finally, with my wife’s help, LuLu had us engaged in a game of strip poker. But it was just her and I. My wife then went into the den to watch TV or something.

I was naked first. Although embarrassed in a way, I was becoming OK with the fact that I was displaying an obvious erection to this young girl. Looking at those luscious tits, how could I resist?

I didn’t know where this was going, but of course I caught on early that it was my birthday, and this, being here with LuLu, was somehow my wife’s present to me. Furthermore, there was so much talk of masturbation that I pretty much knew I wouldn’t be fucking LuLu. Frankly, as pretty as she was, I didn’t really want to. But anything else would be absolutely OK with me.

She wanted to see our jetted tub. My wife and I have a big jetted tub in our bathroom, and before long, LuLu and I were luxuriating in the warm water. I started to follow her lead. She was rubbing her pussy with one hand while conversing with me. So, I started touching my flagpole of a penis.

We were laying in the tub facing each other. Me at one end, her at the other. Our legs overlapped, her feet coming almost to my crotch. After words of encouragement about how big my penis is (it’s only an average 6 inches), and how nice it looks (it’s just an average penis), she scootched forward a bit, and placed her feet gently against my balls, as I widened my legs as much as I could in the tub to allow her better access. She then started kind of grabbing my penis awkwardly between her feet. Finally, with only her feet, she jerked me off, until I released big jets of semen into the water. As I had one of the strongest orgasms of my life, she cheered. Before we left the tub, as my penis was reducing in size in post-orgasmic glow, right there in front of me, as if it was the natural thing in the whole world, LuLu rubbed herself to a series of strong orgasms.

Shortly after our bath, she went home. My wife welcomed me in bed with lots of kisses (but nothing else), and asked, “Did you like my gift?”