pocket pool

It's Thursday morning and I'm awakened by that slightly nagging feeling one gets when the call of nature beckons. Only 4 o'clock, and as late as I retired the night before, I had been hoping for a little more sleep. I try to return to this strangely comical dream I was having, but no luck. Call of nature gets more insistent, so I hop out of bed and head for the bathroom. Back in bed again I'm ready for another 40 winks. Except for whatever trigger sets off in my brain that "dicky boy" was getting ready for some action! I know from long experience this was a call I couldn't just ignore.

Well, as most people, I discovered masturbation when I was 10 or 11. However, I guess I discovered the actual process of masturbation in a slightly different fashion than those I've read about previously here.

The first I can remember receiving pleasure from touching myself was when I was a young boy, probably around age 5 or so. Saturday and Sunday mornings were always quiet around the house, as the older people recuperated from the week, and I was allowed to lounge around in my PJs and watch cartoons in the den. Usually I was alone, and I can remember idly playing with my penis with my hand down in my pants.

I am 20 years old, and it has been a long journey to be as comfortable with masturbation as I am now. My life and masturbation crossed paths when I was 12. My mother had dropped off some books, about all the changes to expect in my body, STDs, and all that fun stuff. I was reading them thoroughly, always hiding because I didn't want her to know I was reading them.

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.