I was reared in a home where sex was never mentioned; I never even heard the word "pregnant." How I managed to get to be 11 years old before learning the facts of life I do not know, but I did. I moved to a new school when I was in the 5th grade, and there I began to get a real education in things I'd never heard of. I knew where babies came from, of course, but I had no idea how they got there.
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ejaculation
Jockstraps
My story is somewhat different because I did not ejaculate by hand until I was nearly 18. I was raised in an extremely sexually repressive home. My mother did not believe in sex for pleasure and rarely engaged in it. Sex was never discussed at our house, and neither my 3 older brothers nor I ever received any sex instruction at home.
Sex: Yes, please!
I grew up in the 1950s in Calvinistic South Africa. It was a very straight-laced and conservative place — still is, in many ways. My mom was very religious, and sex, in any form, was not a subject of discussion. At school the word "sex" was never used. We would talk of "gender" or, maybe, male and female. A form might ask what your "gender" was. At least the modern forms say "sex" — to which I always want to respond, "Yes, please!"
Changing room
My masturbation career has been short, so far at least, but it has been very, very good. I guess there's just something about masturbation that once you start you can't stop, and no matter how many times you do it, it still feels good.
Lifelong quest
My nearly 9 years of masturbation have been plagued with misinformation. I keenly recall one of my early experiences: I was watching Saturday Night Live, and Dr. Joycelyn Elders was being portrayed, just after all the hoopla over her now-infamous remarks. At that time, I had just turned 12 and had been getting erections for some time, but was still uncertain exactly what they were good for other than embarrassment. Speaking with my parents on anything sex-related was, and still is, difficult.
Couch car
To begin with, I am a 16-year-old male, so I haven't got much to tell. I'm sure my parents must know I masturbate, because they joke around with me about masturbation and the myths and call me names, and I think it's a good thing they know. I'm sure my dad, uncles, and male cousins have masturbated before. So I feel no shame, embarrassment, or guilt in masturbating.
Scrambled porn
I remember the first time I discovered masturbation. I was 11 or 12. I remember lying on the floor doing my spelling homework, and for some odd reason or another, I just started to rub my penis on the floor. It started to feel really good, so I continued doing it. Then suddenly, this explosive feeling swept over me from my head all the way down to my toes. It felt great — like nothing I had ever felt before.
Long and fruitful
Although I am only 14, I pride myself in my long and fruitful masturbation life. I first discovered masturbation when I was only 10. Bracing my penis on my stomach, I used to do it by taking my index and middle finger and rubbing vigorously until I orgasmed. (Of course, nothing came out.) When I discovered the cool feeling that resulted, I rushed to tell all my friends how to do it. They went home and tried it, and all came back to 4th grade thanking me deeply. In 4th grade, I kept up the habit a solid 3 times a day.
Erotic research
I am a heterosexual Caucasian male living in Upstate New York. I discovered masturbation accidentally. Around age 12, when my penis began to grow, my erections became more frequent and started to capture my attention. I initially wasn't concerned about my penis size; I was in the early stages of exploring my sexuality. I would stare in the mirror with my penis erect at a right angle to my body, just admiring the beauty of the whole experience. My erections were very hard, but they were still only about 4 inches.
New hobby
About 6 years ago, at the age of 12, I discovered the many joys of masturbation. It was a regular night, and I retired to the bathroom to take a bath before I went to bed. I liked to take long baths; sometimes I would even read in the bathtub, but most of the time I just relaxed and let my mind wander. I retracted my foreskin, as my father had instructed, to wash my penis and prevent infection. This time the feeling I had was unlike any other — somewhere between an unscratchable itch and a pleasant tickle. I continued to do this, and the odd sensation became stronger, and more pleasurable.