Another story from a client:
When I was thirteen, I didn’t know anything at all about sex. My family and friends never talked about it. Remembering back now, my dad once mentioned something about ‘finger-wave’ but I paid no attention. I had no idea what he was talking about, and he didn’t explain. The way he spoke quietly, then quickly changed the subject seemed weird, but I gave it no thought.
Up until that time, I might idly play with my penis and sometimes my balls – I hadn’t discovered anal pleasures yet. I’d get an erection, and it felt nice, but nothing ever came of it. Eventually, I’d lose interest, or thought I might be discovered, so my pants came back up, my erection went down, and that was that.
Discovery did worry me. I had no idea just why, but I knew that being caught playing with my dick would somehow be a bad thing. A very bad thing.
I got in the habit of sitting on the toilet, the one place I could be assured of privacy, when I got my little erections and played with them. They weren’t so little any more. My erect cock was now around 5 inches long. Not quite adult, but getting there. I also had three hairs growing out of the intersection of my penis and body. I remember it was three, long straggly dark hairs. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of becoming an adult just yet.
So, there I was playing with my dick on the toilet one day, and somehow, I was moving the skin on the sides of my penis up and down with a thumb and first finger gripping each side, like you see in the picture. It felt nice.
Then it started to feel very nice. I felt a chill run through my body and end at the top of my head. I didn’t know what that was about, but didn’t care at the moment, what was happening felt remarkable! Then, I felt spasming. Something inside my lower body was pulsating, and it felt very, very nice – for a moment.
All too soon, it was over. I didn’t feel excited. I didn’t feel proud. I felt scared. And worried. This was entirely new, and it wasn’t normal. Furthermore, I thought it was against the Bible or something. I wasn’t clear about that last bit, but I was rather certain what I had done was wrong.
Nevertheless, a couple of days later found me in the bathroom again with a very hard little penis. I was using the exact same grip, because I was rather certain it was something about that exact grip that created the magic, or whatever it was. Sure enough, the feeling came over me again.
From that point forward for well over a month, I made sure to use the exact same grip. I had no idea that there were other ways to accomplish the same thing.
One day, a couple of clear drips of something came out. I was puzzled that it wasn’t urine-colored, and was thicker, more viscous, more oily than piss. I was starting to get an inkling that this was natural. All by myself, I was starting to figure out that this had something to do with how babies were made.
Fast forward a year, and I was fully ejaculating. Somehow, the original grip had been forgotten. Somewhere along the line, I discovered the more conventional ways of jerking off.
By the time I was fourteen years old, I got my thirteen-year-old neighbor involved, and we became jackoff buddies for a few years, but that’s another story.
Later, I became married, had kids, and all these years later, my wife still gets a kick out of hearing this story.