Part Two of a four-part series; read Part One.

I became something of a compulsive masturbator — at least, I did it several times a week. Bed after lights-out, of course, was a common location. The hand seemed to move unguided toward the penis, which immediately stiffened — and the rest followed naturally. Once, before lights-out, I was caught in the act by my mother, who entered the room unexpectedly as I was masturbating with the bedclothes thrown back. I quickly covered myself and she did not bat an eyelid, although she must have seen what I was doing. She probably accepted it as quite natural, but nevertheless I felt ashamed. Funnily enough it never occurred to me that the semen stains on my sheets and underpants must have made it quite plain to my mother how frequently I masturbated.

The loo — "Elsie," a chemical toilet — was also a place to masturbate. The combination of urinating, defecating and ejaculating brought intensified pleasure. The bath was another ideal place, with soapy hands sliding smoothly over the penis increasing the intensity of the orgasm.

I became very deft at masturbating in my trousers by putting my hand in my pocket, arranging my penis so it was pointing vertically toward my stomach, and then rubbing it with minimal hand movement. I could do this undetected (I assumed) while in company. On one occasion I did it while playing a game of table-tennis with my sister. Whether or not she thought it strange I should be playing table-tennis with one hand in my pocket, I don't know! Also, I must have smelled of sperm, as my pants were frequently soaked in it.

Of course, it was known to me that the "natural" reason for my penis being able to ejaculate sperm was not solely to give me pleasure but to impregnate a member of the opposite sex and so perpetuate the human race. As I grew older the thought of having sex with a girl instead of masturbating became a pleasurable fancy, but actually doing it with any girl I had ever met was wholly out of the question. It was something one didn't do. So one masturbated and fantasized. I remember going for a long walk one evening and imagining a woman appearing out of nowhere and persuading me to make love with her. The epilogue of this fantasy was, of course, a brief pause in my walk to sit on the grass behind a hedge, take out my penis, and slowly masturbate. Masturbating outside was particularly enjoyable — there was a sense of oneness with nature as the sperm fell on the grass or leaves. Masturbating outside is something I have practiced with particular enjoyment throughout my life. On walks I would stop to have a pee and end up masturbating as well, and sometimes I combined it with defecating. Once I went for a walk with nothing under my plastic rain trousers, which had only holes for pockets so I could masturbate throughout the walk, the plastic against my skin providing an extra stimulant. However the climax to my open-air masturbating came later on in life, when I rolled naked in the morning dew high up on a mountain and masturbated into the grass.

The year after leaving school I added another masturbatory method to my repertoire, which as yet was not particularly imaginative. I started working in Salisbury, and my godmother gave me some money to buy a moped to save on bus fares. It was not long before I realized I could arrange my penis so it pressed against the saddle — the vibrations of the engine would bring me delightfully to orgasm, and I could control the timing of it at will. Also at this time I started urinating as a stimulator, although in a very antisocial way. I would go into a public toilet near the theatre, enter the cubicle, and urinate all over the place — over the walls, lavatory bowl, and floor. Then, suitably aroused, I would masturbate, making sure the sperm was in an easily noticeable place. I didn't realize it at the time, but this was the forerunner of a masturbatory stimulant I would use and develop later in life.

Leaving home and going up to London changed the venue but not the method of my masturbatory pursuits. When staying in hotels I took delight in leaving obvious semen stains on the sheets for the chambermaid to see. I was tempted to wet the bed as well but never dared. The most I did was defecate in the bath, until once I blocked the drain and had great difficulty unblocking it! In London I discovered that public toilets sported verbal and pictorial pornography — usually crude, but for me, exciting. I would frequently masturbate in public toilets, usually onto the floor. Once I masturbated into a pornographic drawing on the door, only to find that my sperm was trickling down to the floor and could be seen by anyone who happened to be on the other side.

Soon after leaving home I started having sex with girls, which I found both physically and psychologically preferable to masturbation, though it did not entirely replace it. My sex drive was such that my penis needed at least 4 or 5 outlets a week, be it up a vagina or between my hands. There was something about the freedom of masturbation that made it very relaxing as well as invigorating. I never admitted to a girl that I masturbated, and at that stage I didn't realize girls also did it — otherwise I might have brought up the subject.

I got married young to a woman 8 years older than myself, whom I had gotten pregnant. Sex with her was great, but I was in her hands as far as the love-making intensity was concerned, so I continued to masturbate to fill in the gaps. Actually, she was the first woman who knew I masturbated — during a week of enforced "celibacy" the week before we were married, I masturbated in bed almost every night and then took my sheets to her to be washed! This intensive masturbation period did not prevent me from making love more than 20 times during our week's honeymoon.

I continued my masturbatory pursuits in public toilets, in the toilet at home, in the bath — even in bed next to my sleeping wife. It was something so natural, so harmless, yet I still had pangs of guilt when the sheer joy of the orgasm had died down. But of course I continued doing it — and took great pleasure from it! I also once used a rolled up newspaper as a "vagina," and I also masturbated by lying on my stomach and rubbing my penis against the sheets or between a pillow and the lower sheet, sometimes into a lubricated plastic bag.

My marriage came to an end and masturbation became my only outlet for a while. Eventually I found a girl who wanted sex as intensively as I did, and we had a ball together, with plenty of experimentation. We went to sex shops together, took Polaroid photos of each other masturbating — although she refused to admit to having masturbated and did not like talking about it. So, I enjoyed sex with her — and when we were apart I continued to masturbate, but without telling her.

While abroad on a work trip I met a woman with whom I fell in love and I eventually married. The sex was fine, although not as frequent as I would have liked. We were close enough for me to talk about masturbating, and she seemed to understand if not entirely approve — so I continued freely and sometimes told her about it, which I found quite an arousing experience. Later on in the marriage I frequently masturbated next to her in bed while she slept, very often as a sort of revenge for being rejected! I masturbated with minimal movement and then wiped the sperm over my stomach to avoid any stains on the sheets.

A couple of times I masturbated in the sleeping compartment of a night train when going on holiday with the whole family. There was an added pleasure in doing something so "forbidden" in the presence of people who would have been shocked if they had known. I even succeeded in masturbating secretly in the bath while my young son was sitting on the toilet! One summer, when alone at home, I would masturbate frequently onto the sheets and then leave the bed unmade so the young gypsy housemaid would see the stains.

I quickly discovered a couple more masturbatory methods. Bath taps were halfway along the bath, and by letting the water flow onto my erect penis I reached orgasm with no self-contact at all. Each bath also had a hand-held shower which was also delightfully stimulating, and this became a favorite masturbatory "toy." Also, the bath was as excellent place for sticking a soapy finger up my arse while I masturbated, something I learned from a book and accepted willingly. Of course, I also used "girlie" and pornographic magazines as a stimulation and enjoyed ejaculating over the pictures. I remember trying a new masturbatory method while looking at one — namely, pulling the foreskin down as far as possible and holding the penis firmly without any movement. The orgasm was quite intense, but I did not use this method frequently, as the book that had given me the idea warned it could result in a reduction of sensation.

Although I cannot pretend to have really practiced transvestitism, I have put on ladies' tights and masturbated in front of a mirror wearing them. There were 3 things that turned me on: One was the bizarre sight of an erection stretching the tights unnaturally, creating a pyramid in the front. The second was looking at my erect penis pressed either down against my leg, or up against my stomach — and the sperm oozing out through the mesh as I ejaculated. The third was pushing my penis back between my legs so I looked like a woman. I then just looked at the hand on the pubic hair and fantasized about female masturbation!

Go to Part Three.


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