My first memory related to my genitals dates to an incident that occurred when I was about 4. Three other boys of the same age and I decided to compare the sizes of our penises. Incredibly, we did so in broad daylight in the parking area of our apartment building! I don't know if we were observed by anyone, but nothing was ever said — to me, at any rate. There were no further such episodes or anything else related to it.
My next memory is from when I was 8. I was sent to camp for two weeks and got into a fight with a cabin mate who wanted to suck my penis. I refused, and the fight for my genital defense ensued. Nothing else happened that two weeks.
While I can't remember actually stimulating my penis, later that school year I distinctly remember my Mom saying on several occasions, "If you don't stop playing with yourself I'm going to have Dr. K. cut it off." Fortunately she never carried out her threat and I obviously did not stop playing with myself then — or ever.
I was very ignorant about sex. When I was 11 my parents went away with their best friends for a weekend, and I stayed at their house with their 6-year-old daughter and young housekeeper. When Maggie was preparing to be bathed by the housekeeper, she came running into my room completely naked and lay on the bed in front of me. She was the first girl I had ever seen without clothes. I was amazed: She had no penis! Before that moment, I didn't know that boys and girls were built differently! Yet another disadvantage of being an only child. And, there had been no sex-education classes in school, nor had my parents ever told me anything related to sex. After her bath I went into Maggie's bedroom dressed in my PJs, through which my erection was obvious. Maggie was intrigued, and as we sat side-by-side on her bed, she proceeded to play with this new wonder. She held it and examined it and squeezed it. She would push my penis down and it would pop back up. Oh, what fun — for both of us!. After about 5 minutes she was told she had to go to sleep, and I left to go to my bedroom and my own playtime. The next day I went to my best friend's house, and I couldn't wait to tell him of my "anatomy lesson." I even drew him a picture. Whether he didn't believe me, or already knew and couldn't believe how stupid I was, or didn't really care, I'm not sure — but we never discussed it further then or later.
The summer after 6th grade I returned to the YMCA camp for the summer. Campers were required to swim nude in the small river. No one seemed to mind, despite the fact that a road ran alongside the river. I was never aware of any sexually related play that took place during these twice-daily swim times. On the last night of camp, all of the camp was involved in a game of Capture the Flag. I was excused because I am night-blind. One of the high-school guys who worked in the kitchen came into my cabin, and after a while we got on my upper bunk and he started to masturbate me. I had just started puberty, and this was my first time. After quite a while I felt as though I had to pee. We pulled up our shorts and he went with me to the back of the cabin, where we always peed, but I couldn't seem to. I didn't realize it until long afterward that I had just missed having my first orgasm. We returned to my bunk and he continued to rub my penis as well as his own. He asked me to rub his penis, but I was too scared. His penis seemed enormous, justifying his nickname: the Eel. I never did have an orgasm that night.
One night in bed that fall, after several months had gone by and I was in seventh grade, I started rubbing my penis using my thumb and index finger forming a ring that I moved up and down the head of my penis. Only then did I remember my camp experience, but this time the increasingly good sensations compelled me to continue rubbing, and this time it resulted in my first orgasm. Perhaps it was my further development in those few months that made the difference. Something clicked that night, and I've been masturbating ever since. Initially I used only my thumb and index finger. Later, I tried using my thumb and middle finger, and eventually I finally discovered that using all of my hand was really the best. I started masturbating virtually every night when I went to bed. I honestly can't remember my first ejaculation. This seems very strange to me now that I have read so many biographies on JackinWorld. When I did start ejaculating I couldn't seem to get enough. I tried to see how often I could achieve an orgasm in a short time or in one day. After ejaculating, my glans became extremely sensitive, even painful, to touch, so there was a mandatory interval before I could start again. In those days I achieved an orgasm very quickly. I masturbated so frequently that sometimes my penis became sore and I would have to abstain for a day or two. It was then I discovered how saliva could make those orgasms extraordinary and at the same time help prevent soreness. Unfortunately, I didn't then, or even later, produce much more than a drop or two of "pre-cum." I started looking for slippery household products that I could use, but most were unsatisfactory or worse. I sometimes liked the persistent, tingly sensation produced by toothpaste diluted with a little saliva. I also started experimenting with different techniques, all of which now seem to be at JackinWorld.
Two significant things happened when I was in 8th grade. First, my mom accepted a full-time job, which meant I had the house to myself after school. Second, I found in my parents' bedroom a wonderful book, The Art of Love by W.F. Robie. (This is still readily available despite having been first published around 1930.) What an eye and mind opener! It had sections on sexual anatomy, the Kama Sutra, the art of love, the art of unmarried love, case studies, etc. At its first publication it was sold only to doctors; I suspect that I learned much more than they. It was so wonderfully arousing that reading a section of it became a preliminary to many masturbation sessions. One by one I brought my closest half-dozen friends home after school to share its delights and instructions. Reading it never failed to induce an erection in each of us — but these were relieved only after we parted company. All we ever did together was to feel each other's erections through our clothing. Only once was there an occasion of mutual masturbation and our initial trial of "69" oral stimulation. My mom's arrival home cut this episode short as we scrambled to pull up our pants and appear "normal." This was never repeated. I didn't like the taste of his penis and was never tempted to try again.
Robie's book had become my sex-ed instructor; there still were no sex-ed classes in junior high, and my parents had still not (and never would) provide any information about sex. Robie was a constant friend for only two years, however; it disappeared when we moved to a new house at the end of my 9th grade. The vivid memories of Its descriptions of how to provide the best romantic setting and how to built up sexual arousal in a woman prior to intercourse served me well during my high school years and during the courtship of my wife.
That summer I returned to the YMCA camp, where it became much more difficult to masturbate. It was understood that if you were caught masturbating, you would be sent home from camp. I was able to solve this problem by a shift in my favorite time for masturbating. Every day after lunch was an hour rest period, so I found it "necessary" to go to the latrine where I had some privacy. (In this primitive camp that was a large 10- or 12-hole outhouse well beyond the last cabin.) Once one of my cabin mates and I went through the woods and down the hill behind our cabin to a small creek where we sat on its bank, pulled down our shorts, and started stroking ourselves. We had barely begun when we heard one of the counselors calling to us to stop and come back to camp. We were really scared that they would tell our parents and throw us out of camp, but that was the end of it. Nothing was ever said or done to us. Whew! (As it has turned out, this was the last time I engaged in mutual masturbation.)
In high school I was a very serious student, had lots of extracurricular activities, and had a busy social life. While I still enjoyed masturbation, it certainly was not the center of my life. In 11th grade (when we finally had a sex-ed class taught by the gym teacher) I started "going steady" — i.e., Carol and I always went together to parties, movies, dances, etc. Those were the days when you danced "cheek to cheek from head to toe." You felt your girl's breasts against your chest and she could feel your ever-present erection against her tummy, but neither of us would have dared to use our hands to touch each other — at first. Needless to say, that excitement lasted long enough to produce a memorable session of masturbation after I got home. After several months of going together, I was often invited to her house for dinner on Saturdays. Very often we were left alone as the rest of the family went out after dinner. It was wonderful making out while lying in front of a roaring fire. It wasn't long before kissing led to fondling and then to mutual masturbation. Carol often had one or more orgasms from my fingers; I had developed very good self control (through "Stop & Go") and rarely ejaculated. Our sex play often had to be interrupted so I could literally run to catch the last bus home. I very often had "blue balls" and sometimes found it difficult to wait until I got home to relieve the tension. Where I got the bus was the beginning of the route, and on a couple of occasions I was the only passenger and didn't have to wait. The lingering smell of Carol's vaginal secretions on my fingers drove me wild. I even tried not to wash my hands the next day so that I could again "take off" on her scent. We never had intercourse; Carol really wanted to, but I wanted to save that experience to share with my wife. This was also the time (1948) before "the pill," and it was almost impossible in those days for a kid my age to buy or get condoms. Carol and I were very serious about each other and talked about getting married after college. However, we stopped seeing each other in my senior year. Carol seemed to attract older men, and she began an affair with our high school football coach. I was devastated and had few dates for the rest of high school — except for the many "dates" with myself.
In high school we were required to pass a swimming test before we could graduate. Each week we would walk the 12 blocks to the YMCA for our swim class and tests. Although the Y required showers before entering the pool and you had to swim nude, I can't recall seeing any erections or guys masturbating or playing around in the shower, pool, or locker room. That's hard to imagine after reading so many JackinWorld biographies. I don't think I was always in a dream world of my own. We did live in a more prudish era than today, when sex is openly discussed and displayed in movies, TV, magazines, and other mass media.
I masturbated usually once a day when I went to bed. There were no Playboy-type magazines then; TV and the Internet didn't exist. I got aroused by my life experiences and the fantasies they generated. I almost always ejaculated into a handkerchief. I don't believe my mom had any idea that I was masturbating, since she didn't do our laundry. Like many guys, I thought it would be great to be able to put my penis in my mouth, but I wasn't agile enough for that. I sometimes wanted to taste my semen, but that desire seemed to vanish as soon as I ejaculated.
I went to an all-male college where I was a double science major. Lectures started at 8:00 AM every day, including Saturday, and labs seldom ended before 4:00 PM. That left very little time for dating or any other kind of relaxation, and my sexual tensions were exclusively released by masturbation. I had few problems with privacy, since most of that time I lived alone. Excelling at study and research became my consuming passion. During college I masturbated usually only when I went to bed. I still used the "fist" technique almost exclusively, usually dry but sometimes with saliva as a lube. I discovered the enhanced orgasms that anal stimulation provided and did that occasionally. A few times I would rub my lubed anus with the head of my penis or even try to insert my penis, but this was a long stretch and not too comfortable or successful. These were four years of solo sex.
Scholastic passion continued when I started graduate school. But in June at the end of my first year, I found a new passion: I met the woman who would become my wife before the end of the year. She was a research assistant in my graduate department. I had a small apartment where, among other things, I developed my love of cooking that had started in high school. I frequently cooked dinner for my friends and classmates. My cooking skill became an ally. I found that the way to this woman's heart was (at least in part) through her stomach! Once-a-week dinner dates with her and other friends (me cooking) progressed fairly quickly to almost nightly dinners for just the two of us. Casual kissing grew more passionate, and before long we had evenings of mutual masturbation. Although she was not a virgin, she had never experienced an orgasm. Before long I managed to end that deficit, and she began to have multiple orgasms. Through my years of "Stop & Go" I kept myself in check most of the time without ejaculating — until after I returned after taking her home. (In the '50s couples did not usually move in together.) We did not engage in intercourse even after we became engaged in September; I still held out for wanting to experience that on my wedding night. We were married that December. As it turned out, it was worth waiting for!
Our very passionate love-making took place several times a day, every day. Masturbating each other was an essential part of our foreplay prior to intercourse. I was able to bring her to orgasm several times before I finally ejaculated. Within a few weeks, she became pregnant. She reached a point during her pregnancy when she no longer wanted to have intercourse. I once again returned to masturbation, which continued until weeks after the baby was born. Six months later she was pregnant again, and my masturbation pattern resumed once again. I most often masturbated "dry," but if I wanted to climax quickly I would use saliva as a lube, because it seemed the closest to simulating the feel of my wife's vaginal secretions. Occasionally my wife would masturbate me to orgasm. I don't think she was — or is — aware of my solo sessions even when they occur in our bed while she's asleep. Since our third child was born (40 years ago), intercourse has become much less frequent and, as a result, I masturbate almost every day but only several times a week to orgasm. I have never used porn magazines, the Internet, or anything other than my own mind to get aroused. While I still derive much pleasure from masturbation, it's not as good as when I was younger. About 6 months ago I discovered JackinWorld. What a wonderful site! I wish that something like it had been available when I was an adolescent.
