I kind of feel like the guy in Castaway — you know, he painted a smile and two dots on a volleyball for a friend. Well, I was circumcised, so, erect, there's that smile looking at me. My Wilson to bat around and make me smile through the years. There's been a few tears, too. But when I think about it, it's been me and Wilson through everything. The way I look at it, when I ejaculate, that's Wilson speaking. He's spoken to a few people, but mostly to me.
I've masturbated almost as long as I can remember. I am now 30 years old. As a small child before I went to school, I remember getting behind a chair in the living room and playing with my erect penis. It just felt so good to rub it with my hands. I don't ever recall having dry orgasms, but I did enjoy it — although I had no idea what I was doing! There were lots of girls in my neighborhood. I vividly remember a number of occasions before second grade where I would hide away with one of the neighbor girls, and we would show each other our genitals.
When I was growing up, in the early 1960s, no one talked about masturbation — at least not that I was aware of. I had no older brothers, older cousins, or even older friends to put me wise. I attended a small country school, where unless you were a jock you did not even participate in the kind of athletics that required daily showers at school. So I was isolated from "man talk." No wonder I didn't learn to stroke it until I was about 14.
By the time I was 9 or 10 years old, I had discovered how good it felt to have an erection. Some of my friends started to talk about it, and we decided to show one another our erections. We would take out our penises and touch and squeeze ourselves until we got hard. It was a big joke, except that it felt so good. Nobody knew anything about masturbation, so we stopped there.
I'm writing this at the end of a 4-year relationship, one that was quite fulfilling on many levels: emotionally and spiritually as well as physically. It's amazing how sharing physical intimacy can bind people together in ways words won't describe. My partner and I enjoyed each other's bodies quite a bit — whether through full-fledged intercourse or just masturbating face-to-face, watching each other's enjoyment grow, seeing what we do to pleasure ourselves. My definition of sex is pretty wide, so everything counts — including just watching what someone else does with their hands.
I think I was about 6 or 7 when I discovered that rubbing my penis felt really good — not just nice, as it had felt when I was younger. It started with a "rosy palm" trick: grabbing my penis with one hand and rubbing the very tip of my penis with the palm of the other. The feelings were incredibly intense, and I couldn't do it for very long. A few times, I was able to do this with my friend John, who was about same age. We did this secretly, as somehow we knew it might get us into trouble.
As a young boy I was always interested in things sexual. There was nothing said about sexual things in my household, as both my parents were rather Victorian in their beliefs and attitudes concerning sex. Most of my cousins with which I had contact were girls and were equally interested in my equipment. We often played "doctor" and "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." I remember their handling my penis and scrotum and sometimes even touching my anus at times. This was exciting and pleasurable. I in turn felt them and inserted my fingers into their small vaginal passages.