Part One of a two-part series.

A biography of my life as masturbator, huh? Well, I started at a very young age. I have my older brother (by three years), and his friends, to thank for that. I was about 9 or 10 and, of course, I looked up to my brother and wherever he went, that's where I wanted to be. He wasn't too thrilled by my always wanting to tag along. One summer day he and a couple of his friends decided to take a hike. Known as the Golden Stairs, the light brown, shale-bottomed creek stepped down and down into a canyon until it dumped into a pond. The area was heavily wooded and was very secluded. It was a tough climb down and even tougher climbing back out. It was slippery and could be deadly if you fell and cracked your head open on the rock. As usual, I was begging to be included. One of my brother's friends leaned over and whispered into my brother's ear. A big smile came across their faces and my brother said, "Okay. But you have to j*ck us off." Well, I had no idea what that was, but I readily agreed -- anything to be included!

Over an hour later we finally reached our destination, and my brother and his friends wasted no time at all in stripping off their pants. The water was plenty clean enough to swim in, but swimming was the last thing on their minds. Each one sported erections, which they called "boners." My brother was the first to call me over and took my hand and placed it properly over his shaft and, with his hand over mine, showed me how to stroke it up and down. It wasn't long before one of the others held my other hand over his penis and gently guided my hand. I never had to ask to be included again -- it was just assumed that I would be there.

Over the course of that summer they taught me how to stroke myself, and they taught me the pleasures of fondling testicles and nipples and the area between the scrotum and the anus. I had plenty of orgasms but never ejaculated. They would slowly stroke themselves in between turns of having me do it for them, lying back in the grasses that ringed the pond. As each session ended, we'd all jump into the water to clean up. We'd splash and jump and run. I had the time of my life.

The next several years found us getting together at every opportunity for our mutual masturbation sessions. The first time I ejaculated, they all applauded. Every once in a while one of them would take my penis and have me lie back while they took care of me.

I learned a lot of different techniques from them. My favorite was what we called the twister. With a well-lubed hand, start at the very base of the shaft using a medium grip. The object is not to pull the skin up and down but to allow your hand to glide smoothly over the skin. As your hand strokes upward, twist your wrist toward the underside of the penis so that your hand turns around the shaft. When you reach the ridge of the head, swipe your thumb across the front, moving up and across the tip. On the downstroke, reverse the action. The sensations created are the most intense and pleasurable I've ever felt using my hands. The ridge and very tip of the head seem to be the most sensitive spots, and it gives great alternate intense/not intense sensations. As you approach ejaculation, add more pressure on the upstroke, in a "milking" gesture. Whenever I use this technique the quantity of my ejaculate increases.

The last time was in our back yard the summer my brother turned 17. Three of us were "camping out." Unbeknownst to any of us, our mom had been watching us through an upstairs window. She must have said something to our father, because the next day my brother got taken outside for "a talk," and he never asked me to participate again. We shared a bedroom and we would both masturbate, of course. We would watch each other, but stroking each other ceased.

When I was in the service, masturbation was a regular event. We were young, we were horny, and that was the way we took care of it. Alone or together, it didn't seem to matter. Sometimes we'd have contests to see who could last the longest, or who could ejaculate the fastest or farthest. It was no big deal -- you joined in or you didn't. No one cared. Although mutual masturbation is something I continue to enjoy when the opportunity arises, I still don't think of myself as gay -- but perhaps it qualifies me as a bisexual.

To Part Two.


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