The Discovery of Masturbation

Yeah, yeah, this is another one that is not in chronological order. Despite my efforts to keep moving forward, i keep thinking of things that are a bit further back.


It started with the discovery of Playboy. When I was about 10, I found that my father had magazines under his side of my parents' bed. If there's any possibility that early exposure can influence sexuality, I would be straight or least bi, given the the amount of naked female flesh I saw before the age of 12. I knew that Playboy was grown up and sexual. Looking at the magazines made my little dick hard. I'd flip through them and then I'd carefully slide the magazine back into place. And then there were books.

I forget which book I found first. Was it The Happy Hooker or Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex? One of those. It was hidden under my parents' bed near the Playboys. Okay, what did this hold?

I read these books in whatever order I discovered them. Happy Hooker was a shorter book. The only thing I remember about it is an acceptance on the part of Xaveria Hollander of any form of sex as long as no one was hurt and she got a cut of the take.

Dr. Reuben did terrify me with his chapter on homosexuality, describing a world of butches and femmes in which men were either hypermasculine or in drag. He also taught me about masturbation, though I wish he had done a better job of it.

As an instruction manual, Everything You Always Wanted to Know falls short. I remember reading that masturbation is described as the rubbing of the penis to the point of orgasm. Okay, I knew what rubbing was. You might rub a table to get the dust off it. You rubbed a piece of sandpaper on the wooden car for the Pinewood Derby. Rub. Got it.

My earliest masturbatory attempts were done with the flat of my hand rubbing up and down the length of my penis. It felt good and I found I could do it for a while. Despite the influence of Playboy, I imagined my male classmates wrestling about nude in a dogpile.

When I started ejaculating, it came as no surprise, since Dr. Reuben had already prepared me for that. Oh, that felt good. Eventually, I found that it felt even better if you wrapped your hand around it. This was probably after seeing the other boys do it in the back of the bus. On my one demonstration, they were fascinated by my flat-handed technique.

At one point, and this might have been in Everything You Always Wanted to Know or maybe in Playboy, I saw a reference to using a toilet paper tube as a masturbatory aid. The idea was that you slicked up your cock and slid it along the inside of the tube as if you were fucking something (or someone). Pocket pussy/ass on the cheap.

One day, I noticed a toilet paper roll in the bathroom trash. Good boys take out the trash. Bad boys filch things from the trash to use on their cock. I hid away that toilet paper roll until I had a moment by myself. Just to try, I poked the head of my cock into the roll.

And that was it. My first thought was that whoever had come up with the toilet paper roll story was just kidding. There was no way my dick was getting stuffed into that thing. Sure, my cock soft would fit into one, but hard? No way. The whole thing had to be a lie. At the time, I figured every cock was like mine, or even bigger. Yeah, I had seen the boys on the bus, but not enough to compare. Later, I would realize that there were dicks out there that would fit inside a toilet paper roll.

I'd stroke my dick until I came three times a day. Okay, not every day. Every once in a while, aware that masturbation was a sin, I'd resolve to stop masturbating. My record was a whole four days. I decided that there was no torture in hell as bad as an aching teen boner and the embarrassment of trying to hide that I was hard most of the time. Not long after that, I decided that there was no hell and no God trying to torture guys by making their cocks hard 24/7 unless they masturbate.

There were times when I worried about the mess and so I would pinch the head as I came. I suspect I managed a retrograde ejaculation, sending it into my bladder. Probably not a good idea. It seemed like a good idea at the time, since I got the feeling of an orgasm without having to clean up the mess. Given that decades later, my cock still works, I guess I didn't do any damage.