I first found out about masturbation when I was 10 or 11. I was in the shower and I had an erection. I sat on the floor of the shower and just started to rub my penis. After about 15 minutes I started to experience a feeling I had never had before. It got stronger and stronger as the seconds went by. I was getting nervous about what was happening, but it felt too good to stop. All of a sudden a huge wad of white goo spurted all over. I had no idea what it was or what I had just done. I thought I had done something wrong or harmful to myself. I felt like a pervert.
Masturbation has been an important part of my life since I was a small child. Now I am a happily married husband and father of 3 great kids. I have a normal sex life with my wife, but I still cherish my love life with myself through masturbation — usually once a day, but sometimes twice. I also cherish the memories of my masturbation experiences through the years.
I discovered this wonderful aspect of human life when I was 13. How I discovered it is quite a long story, perhaps similar to others' experiences.
This is a shameless account of the masturbatory experiences of a man who has masturbated regularly since he was 14 and who now, as he approaches 60, considers masturbation to be one of the most enjoyable sexual experiences of all and an art in its own right.
Since I am in my early 80s my masturbation history, while long and eventful, is to my profound regret no more.
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.
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 am a married male in my 40s and have been masturbating regularly since I was about 10 years old. My first exposure to "the deed" was seeing my older cousin lying on his bed late one night as I walked past his slightly open door. As I had never even heard of masturbation it really didn't arouse much curiosity in me at the time. But a few months later while I was home alone one afternoon, I took off all my clothes in the bathroom to take a bath and suddenly got a raging erection.
The summer after my 11th birthday I went to Boy Scout camp and learned to masturbate. I'd heard guys at school talk about "jacking off," and I thought it had something to do with sex, but I really didn't know what it meant. One day at camp we were hiking in the woods, and a friend told a group of us that his father, who was a scoutmaster, caught my friend's brother and another boy "jacking off" in their tent. I laughed along with everybody else, but then I asked him what, exactly, they were doing.
I first remember masturbating when I was about 7. I'm sure I was doing it before then, but that is my earliest memory of doing it. I would put my hand in my underpants and, holding my hand flat, move my soft penis up and down. The rubbing of my hand and of my penis head on my cotton underwear felt fantastic, and if I was lucky I would reach a sort-of orgasm before I got too much of an erection for my technique to work. Of course, I didn't use those words — "boner" was what my best friend and I called an erection, and orgasm was just some final, great, nameless feeling.