orgasm

I am a 36-year-old man living in Maryland. I grew up with no real father support, so I knew nothing about what was happening to me. It all began in the summer after 5th grade, when I began experiencing erections. I didn't know why I was getting them or what they were for, but I tried my best to ignore them. One day in school a group of guys were talking about having "wet dreams." I knew nothing of what they talked about, but from what I was listening to, I thought it was something bad and that my mother wouldn't like it if my sheets were sticky when she went to wash them.

I was raised in a fairly conservative Christian home, and was raised to think that the act of masturbation was both disgusting and evil. It wasn't until I was 17 that I discovered the contrary, and that my masturbation life began. Like all boys I had a tendency to get random erections, and always found them annoying and sometimes even painful. Being uncircumcised, I also found what few experiments I held in touching myself to be painful as well, as my glans was too sensitive for much direct contact.

I grew up in the bush in Australia. We lived in a scattered community. The one-teacher school, with a couple of dozen kids, was in a village a couple of miles away, so we had to walk to and from school though the bush. I was 7 years old and in 3rd grade, but we all played together with boys in the upper grades. One afternoon I set off to walk home after school and was joined by three 9- and 10-year-olds. They told me that they wanted to show me something. We stopped at a picnic spot on the edge of the bush.

Sex for me began innocently enough. Starting at age 12, I enjoyed lying on my bed in pajamas, on my belly, rocking forward and back, because it made my penis feel good. If I did that long enough, for just a moment I would feel very good all over my body, like I was flying, and there'd be a little "jump" deep inside me. I had never heard of masturbation, didn't suppose that any observer would guess that my penis was being stimulated, and did it openly, whenever I wanted, even if other family members were present.

My penis and I are close friends and trusted companions. We have traveled the world together and indulged in ecstatic pleasures for more than 6 decades. I became aware of him as a secret source of enjoyment when I was 6. Not long after that, I remember sitting up in a tree with my sister and her friends talking about forbidden parts of our bodies. I can still revive the sensation in my penis as we probed imaginatively into the intriguing unknown.

Sexually, I always remember being at least "inquisitive," even as young as 4 years. I can only remember a few specific instances during the pre-school and elementary school years where either my curiosity got the best of me or I would somehow wind up concentrating on the good feelings my genitals would give me. The natural curiosity of young boys growing up — where most would at least play the "You show me yours and I'll show you mine" game — happened as often as I could get the other neighborhood boys to play, which was not very often.

My first strong memory of getting an erection is from when I was 4 or 5 years old. My mom and I were walking around in a department store, and she happened to notice I had a tent in my pants. This seemed to embarrass her a little, but being so young it didn't embarrass me at all. She asked me if I had to go to the washroom, and because I didn't, I said no. But back then, I didn't even know why my penis got hard and stuck out like that. I just figured it was what happened when I needed to urinate, and I gave no more thought to it.

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.

It's Thursday morning and I'm awakened by that slightly nagging feeling one gets when the call of nature beckons. Only 4 o'clock, and as late as I retired the night before, I had been hoping for a little more sleep. I try to return to this strangely comical dream I was having, but no luck. Call of nature gets more insistent, so I hop out of bed and head for the bathroom. Back in bed again I'm ready for another 40 winks. Except for whatever trigger sets off in my brain that "dicky boy" was getting ready for some action! I know from long experience this was a call I couldn't just ignore.

My first interest in sex probably began when I was 7 or 8. At church we didn't have bathrooms in the building, so we had to go to a bathroom facility that was in the school yard in back of the church. Often I would meet up with a fellow (probably in his 20s or 30s) sitting outside the bathroom moving his hand up and down on his penis slowly, then rather rapidly. This interested me, but I had no idea what he was doing. In fact, I did not even know the word "penis." I came from a single-mother family with no siblings, and my mother was never into discussing sex.