I don't remember when I didn't fondle my penis. I still do, every chance I get. My first memory is of sitting in my highchair at the dining-room table with no pants on, fondling my penis. Apparently, I had wet all my pants and they were in the washer. My father was yelling at me to "Stop that." I had no idea what he was talking about, so I kept right on fondling myself. He then said that if I didn't stop, he would throw his water at me. I didn't stop, since I didn't know what he was talking about, so he threw his water at me.
I had my first masturbation session when I was at the start of my teen years, age 13. Nope, I didn't discover it by accident — it was because I got curious about what my classmates were telling me about the good experiences they had while masturbating, which then I would discover as the art of orgasm.
I am a 67-year-old circumcised man who has been very happily married for 44 years and yet still indulges in the pleasurable pastime of masturbation.
I suppose I must have been about 10 years old when I first discovered that by playing with my penis it would stiffen and produce a delightful sensation. My elder brother had already reached puberty, and he showed me the "fist" method so that I could induce the wonderful feeling that I later learned to be an orgasm.
As a young child through 8th grade (age 14), I was sent to a private Christian school. This school was very strict in the teachings they presented to us. Everything was completely religion-based. Even the science and history classes were all about "God's plan." Anyway, I think this background is what kept me from masturbating at an early age like most young boys. When I was a little kid, I didn't even think about what my penis was for. I was not even concerned with myself in that sense until the end of 6th grade when I was 12.
I thank JackinWorld for being an integral part of my masturbation life — there from the very beginning. I first masturbated to orgasm 6 years ago. As puberty was just starting, I found myself browsing the Internet searching for whatever information I could come across. At some site, somewhere, I found a link to JackinWorld. I was intrigued and diligently read the JackinHow-To section. I went downstairs to my room (by now everybody was asleep), stripped naked, and lay on my bed. I tried to follow the directions, pulling the skin on my penis back and forth.
Hi! Female here. Heaven knows how I happened to run into JackinWorld, but I did. I found it most interesting, and sound in judgment and fact. Because you take the subject seriously, I thought I would spend a few minutes and pass along some of my experiences with boyfriends who enjoy my hands on them.
I'm 47 years old, and I can't remember when I didn't know what an erection was. When I had one, it was lots of fun to play with. I remember being a little boy in the bathtub with a little tiny erection, rubbing it between my fingers, and it felt so good. My parents didn't give me much grief about it; they just studiously ignored the matter. I got the subliminal message that I should do it in private, or maybe not do it at all.
I've masturbated for as long as I can remember. For all I know, I may have been busy masturbating when I was born. Of course, my technique when I was young wasn't very sophisticated. I'd lie on my front, I'd use my right hand to clamp my flaccid penis against my right leg, and I'd cup my left hand over my scrotum, which I held to my left. Then, I'd wiggle my groin. I masturbated like this at least once a day, and I think my penis may have been my favorite plaything. It certainly is the only plaything I still play with 30 some years later!
I started noticing differences between boys and girls' bodies in nursery school. The boys and girls didn't have separate restrooms; I thought that girls had to urinate sitting down because their penises weren't fully developed like boys (of course we urinated standing).
I was never very conscious of erections, and at first, they were a pain — a needless, useless wonder. I'd get one, and if I noticed, I'd tap it to try to rid of it. At sleepovers when I was very young, friends would ask what they were. I had no idea, and told them so. This continued until I was about 10, at which point I decided (or was told) that erections were something to be hidden and covered up. Ironically, it was this decision/command that piqued my curiosity.