My first interest in sex probably began when I was 7 or 8. At church we didn't have bathrooms in the building, so we had to go to a bathroom facility that was in the school yard in back of the church. Often I would meet up with a fellow (probably in his 20s or 30s) sitting outside the bathroom moving his hand up and down on his penis slowly, then rather rapidly. This interested me, but I had no idea what he was doing. In fact, I did not even know the word "penis." I came from a single-mother family with no siblings, and my mother was never into discussing sex.
I was not one of those boys who just happened to discover masturbation on his own. I needed to be taught. Thank goodness I found a good teacher: My best friend in 6th grade taught me the fine art of masturbation.
I live in the Great White North — Canada. I started masturbating when I was 12; I remember it distinctly. I had a bad stomach ache, and my mom said it would help if I went to sleep with a pillow under my hips to sort of stretch out my stomach. I did so, but I wasn't feeling so good and wasn't about to fall asleep, so I put the pillow between my legs and tried to fall asleep on my side. I then started coughing, and my pelvis started to rock back and forth, rubbing my penis against the pillow. I got an erection very fast, and I liked it so I kept thrusting against the pillow.
I was 9 or 10 years old when I was first told about masturbation by a friend who was a year older than me. At that stage I did not think there was anything special about it. I shared a room with my younger brother, but fortunately, as I developed and came to enjoy masturbation, I was able to move into a room of my own and enjoy the privilege of masturbating in private without having to wait for my younger brother to get to sleep. I still had lots of "wet-dreams," although my mother did not seem to be fazed by the stains on the sheets.