I remember my first orgasm as clearly as if it happened a moment ago. It was a momentous event and I had absolutely no idea what had happened. Obviously I must have been masturbating long before I could orgasm, which was also long before there was an Internet or JackinWorld or even widely available pornography. I can say without a shadow of doubt I masturbated, because it felt good even before I could orgasm. Oh, and I regularly went to church, and no one ever mentioned that masturbation was a sin, nor did anyone mention that masturbating with other boys or masturbating other boys was a sin either. So when I had my first orgasm I had no teaching to feel guilty about, and I've never felt guilty about masturbating.
It was in 1971, I was 12, my grandfather was visiting, and I had to let him have my bed and I got the spare. I don't know why he didn't get the spare bed — I sure did like my bed. As usual, I lay on my stomach and moved my hips around, as this always felt good and that was how I got to sleep. No one taught me this; I just figured it out all on my own. Then all of a sudden this massive, never-felt-before feeling surged through my entire body, and my penis just exploded with something. As soon as it happened I thought to myself, I've got to do that again, but how? So I rolled over and had a feel about in the dark. It was all wet and sticky, so I smelled some of it on my fingers and it smelled good. Then I tasted some and it was salty. I didn't really like the taste.
It didn't smell like urine, but as only urine had ever come out of my penis, I thought it must be some sort of urine, and I decided to investigate that possibility. I also decided that this new urine had to have come about by some sort of mixing and heat, and the only way I could imagine repeating what had occurred on my stomach was to hold both the palms of my hands either side of my penis and roll my penis between them. Looking back I would say that this was excellent logical, albeit wrong, thinking. I masturbated in that way for many years, never figuring that when I was called a "wanker" that masturbating was wanking, nor that the common hand signal for a wanker, referred to here as the "fist," was the preferred form of masturbation for most boys.
Since I decided this new urine had to have come about by a heat and pressure system, I got one of my mother's pots and peed in it. Then I heated my pee on the stove to see what happened. I was so annoyed when it didn't thicken — it just evaporated, and the kitchen smelled of pee! Maybe, I thought, there was something else in this new urine as well as pee, so I repeated the process and added a little flour. Sure, my pee thickened, but it didn't smell the same, and it tasted ghastly! Then I decided it may be a slow buildup of heat and pressure, so instead of using a stove, I peed in a plastic cup and added a little salt instead of flour and let it heat up in the sun for a day. Unfortunately that proved utterly fruitless — the pee just evaporated, leaving pee-tasting salt behind. By this stage I was getting a little bit pissed off! I settled on "I don't know what this is, but I love it" and left it at that. It never entered my head to ask anyone else if they knew what this new pee was. In fact, I never asked a single sex-related question of anyone until one day at school when sex education was on the menu.
The sex education class I attended was all about girls and their reproductive cycle. There was a little bit on how they got pregnant, but there were no phrases or words used that indicated to me boys were needed for the process. I and a couple of my male friends decided to stay back as we were asked to if we wanted further questions answered. I had a question and really wanted it answered, but every time it got to my turn, the teacher veered off to speak to someone else. So I never did get to ask my question, the only question I ever had. Anyway, looking back it now seems there was never any intention of educating the boys about what ejaculation was or about what erections were or about what orgasm was. I gather from conversations with my mother many years later that the boys were supposed to go home and ask their parents all this stuff, but I never got the hint. When I did get home that day, my mother asked how the sex education class went, and I remember clearly what I said: "It was so boring — I never learned a thing." I think it was my mother's responsibility to carry on the conversation from there, but she didn't. No one in my family mentioned sex of any type to me. No one took the opportunity to teach me anything. The closest my mother got was when I was masturbating watching TV one night, and all she said was, "David, stop playing with yourself." End of conversation! Clearly it clicked in her head that I had something to play with!
I've considered that the society I lived in as a child was so conservative Christian that to even mention people's body parts and what they did was taboo. By that means, boys played with each other,s penises as a game, which it was. They effectively masturbated together and masturbated each other; they had sexual relations with their family members their age and a bit older simply because no one bothered to teach them anything else. All this was done quite openly without shame or guilt, since the ultra-conservative Christians couldn't bring themselves to talk about sexual matters with their children.
So for all those people who moan about JackinWorld, well, it would have been wonderful if there had been just one adult in my early life who took a little interest to teach me. I would have settled for a book or a TV program, but what I got was nothing. That's not good enough in my opinion. Well done, JackinWorld creators— very well done indeed.
— David, New Zealand, 40-something
Do you find yourself masturbating more often during some seasons than others? Why?
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New urine
Gender:
Male