Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 04 June 23, 1612 hours

If bisexuality didn’t teach me anything, it’s that sex is to be enjoyed… and even when you’re just having sex with yourself. Yeah… spanking the monkey; choking the chicken; rubbing one out.

I’ve mentioned the day a friend showed and taught me how to masturbate and I’m sitting here thinking that in a hierarchical sort of way, it was the fourth sexual thing I learned about. First there was sex with a girl and, really, who knew I could put my thing inside a girl like that? I sure didn’t! Then, sex with a guy, both oral and anal (kinda but eventually being nicely penetrated and creamed); then masturbation comes in at #4 and while I’ll say that I kinda/sorta knew that playing with myself could feel good, jerking off made that early “playing” pale in comparison since I was now ejaculating and, come on – who knew that you could make yourself shoot the stuff? Learning to eat pussy was the “last piece of the puzzle” and like everything else, who the fuck knew that doing that to a girl was more fun that some didn’t think it was?

Yeah, not me but once I learned how to get myself off, doing it just for the fun of it became a must except I was told not to. Ever. Going blind and all that and, as I would later learn, the misperception that it’s a sin and, um, okay, if you’re gonna put it like that, I was already sinning my young ass off and in extremis already so what’s one more sin to add to the list?

Adult Me would reason that if you can’t or won’t pleasure yourself, who’s supposed to? Some guys were weird about it; girls started demanding that we not do this, and they were in the same camp as some of the guys who were all of a mind that a guy has no reason to masturbate… because we’re supposed to have sex with girls. That’s all well and good… if you could convince a girl to have sex with you but, fine – I can go both ways and having sex with a guy could be just as satisfying but what about those times when it’s just me, my dick is hard and not of a mind to go back to being soft (unless somehow shocked into it) and, well, hmph, I know what to do about that and just like all the other sexual things I was doing that I wasn’t supposed to even know about, I could sit, stand, or lie and make myself shoot and, um, sometimes, giggling at how bad I was being.

One day I’m hiding in the bathroom and jerking off and I’m about to shoot and… I wanna see myself do it and wondering if I could since when the moment came, I tended to have my eyes closed and only opening them after the fact. I’m doing the jerk and snatch on myself, it’s feeling good, then really good and then that good and I shoot… myself in the face since I wanted to get as close as look as possible. Doing this was messy to begin with and hiding it from my parents was problematic since, um, a lot of toilet paper would go missing and trying to be mindful to get rid of any evidence that I did this and sometimes being “sure” that I might have missed some. Going through those first moments of having wet dreams was… embarrassing enough to wake up in the morning and my underwear are literally plastered to me because I shot my stuff while I was asleep and unaware of what had happened and now I gotta put them in the hamper and realizing that there was no way in hell that my mother – who was a nurse – wasn’t gonna figure out what that white, crusty stuff was in my underwear.

I knew that she knew but she was gracious because she didn’t really say anything to me about itr but, of course, she’s a nurse and a grownup woman who obviously knew something about boys and if I’m already embarrassed by this, no need to make it any worse… unlike my father who’d see fit to “give me da bizness” about messed up underwear and sheets and even thought it was hilariously funny, too.

But I’d better not be playing with myself because it’s a sin and evil and if God doesn’t get me for doing it – and by making me go blind – yeah… parents were going to say or do something about it. A friend asks me if I jerked off and I said that I did and… he didn’t seem to know why I would.

“Because it feels good!” I remember saying while giving him a “what’s wrong with you” kind of look and learning what was wrong with him was that he was afraid to do it because he knew he’d be punished if his parents found out. But even then, it “made sense” to me that if he was going to be punished for it, didn’t that also mean that his parents knew he might do it? I thought so but we tabled the jerking off conversation to go have sex and shoot the way it’s supposed to be done and, well, I wasn’t going to say no but I had “reasoned” that just because I was having sex didn’t mean I had to stop… what’s that word I learned? – oh, yeah – masturbating.

Sometimes I had to do it in lieu of not being able to have sex with someone; sometimes I did it… just because I could and sometimes I’d do it even after having sex with someone because… it felt good and not so good after the fact but Adult Me would learn some stuff about that and how getting myself off made me feel guilty for doing it… but it sure was fun in the doing. Hanging with the fellas and we decide to have a contest to see who can (a) shoot the most stuff and (b) who can shoot it the farthest and, sometimes, (c), who could shoot it the fastest and who took a long time to shoot this way and, yeah, we’re boys – what did you expect?

And while some guys were embarrassed because they masturbated, I… wasn’t. Adult Me would look back at this moment in time and realized that I had zero shame when it came to having sex with a girl, boy or… with myself. I remember the first time I tasted my own stuff because… I wanted to know what it tasted like. Now, this was before I was eating pussy and way before the first time I went back down on a girl after I’d cum in her but, sure, guys and gals would let me shoot it in their mouth and they’d either swallow it or spit it out but… what did it taste like?

I’m in the bathroom and beating the shit out of my meat because I want to shoot so I can taste it and wasn’t aware of the fact that because this was something I felt I had to do, I was making it hard on myself to shoot but eventually I did; it was all over my hand and fingers and now… I didn’t want to even think about tasting it but I have a problem: I forgot to get a new roll of toilet paper! I will admit that it didn’t occur to me that all I had to do was… wash it off. Nope – this was my chance to taste it and I’m in a panic mode over no toilet paper so I… licked my hand and fingers clean and, hmm, it doesn’t taste bad at all!

I would learn that if I’m going to do that, um, it’s best to do it while it’s still warm because once it cooled down, eh, it wasn’t the taste that was bothersome but the weird jelly-like feel of it in my mouth and, once, I almost threw up because it didn’t feel right in my mouth so, yeah, if I wasn’t going to “get it while it’s hot,” just get rid of it the usual ways.

For some guys, being able to do this kept them from having sex with someone; I didn’t understand this at first but, yeah, parents. I never got caught jerking off – but I’d been close enough to getting caught to know that whoever tried to barge into wherever I was doing it just knew what I was doing… but if you didn’t see it, it never happened. Some guys got caught doing it and if they didn’t get grounded for it, they got beaten for it and parents had no qualms about leaving the evidence of a beating behind because it also served to send a message to the rest of us: If you start fooling around with any kind of sex, this is what could happen to you, too. It was a clear and present danger because I grew up in a village situation where if an adult member of the tribe caught you doing something you had no business doing, they could beat your ass for it – then take you home and rat you out to your parent(s) so you could get beaten again.

And if you tried to say that you didn’t do what you got caught doing, tack on some more beating for lying on an adult and lying to begin with. A lot of my friends either got caught jerking off or there was proof that they did and, sometimes, even if it was merely suspected. Adults were seriously serious about us not knowing anything about any kind of sex but for those like me, yeah, that ship had already sailed and got sunk… a lot. Did girls do this, too?

They said they didn’t, but my older sister once told me, “Those bitches are lying if they say they don’t!” I learned that they, too, got hit with a lot of shame and guilt over playing with their pussy and one girl had asked, “If I can’t let you play it with and I can’t play with it myself, what am I supposed to do when I want it played with?”

Of course, the only acceptable answer was, “Nothing -and you’d better not or else!” Another girl told me with a high degree of certainty that good girls don’t do that – only bad girls do that and, gasp, have sex with a boy! Some of them – catch me if I faint – will even put a boy’s thing in their mouth! Some girls would say that they did but, of course, it would be better if I played with it and even better if, you know, I was to kiss it… a lot… and until they tell me to stop and stick it in.

I’d see that social norms and morality-related things threw in a lot of shame and guilt about masturbating; I didn’t have any of it but, in this context, this wasn’t about me – it was about other people and how this particular sexual thing affected them one way or the other. Like, guys who weren’t of a mind to beat their meat – but were having trouble getting pussy – would, likely, opt to have a guy do it for them, suck their dick or the guy was willing to be fucked. Which, in the way my mind was now beginning to work, didn’t make a lot of sense because getting yourself off… wasn’t “as bad” as opting to have sex with a boy most definitely was… not that it was really bad but, still.

To me, it was a lesson in what “the lesser of two evils” could mean and confusing since, as we were told, both things were a sin and sins were never to be done or even thought of and… adults are crazy, aren’t they? Oh, then if this wasn’t confusing enough, we were also being told that if we have sex, you can never tell anyone about it. Wait, what? So, if someone asks me if I’ve had sex yet, I can’t tell them that I have? What if they’re asking me because they want to have sex with me? How does this even work?

Yeah, those crazy adults and their rules that weren’t making any sense to me… or anyone else who were of a similar mind. Sex was good. It felt good to have sex with a girl… and a boy, too, but it felt good if you had sex with yourself but the obvious contraction that we shouldn’t be having sex… and the idiotic notion that we couldn’t and didn’t know anything about it.

Childhood innocence my ass. It is never to say or imply that there weren’t kids who were still as innocent as the day they were born; it just wasn’t all of us. I even figured out that if you didn’t want to hear anything about it, you still knew about it and knowing was “just as bad” as doing it and, yeah, adults. They have no idea what they’re talking about well, right up to those moments when you find out that they weren’t as crazy and clueless as we believed them to be.

Except that going blind and/or hairy palms part. No idea what girls were told about what would happen if they played with their pussy – would they go blind, too? Oh, and if a girl or a guy wore glasses, did that mean that they played with themselves and… they’re going blind?

Adult Me looks back at stuff like this and I… just shake my head and smile wryly if I’m not actually laughing at how naive we all were but, at the same times, how some of us, myself included, was way ahead of the curve because we had few qualms about having sex with each other and… with ourself and the only real purpose for me to masturbate was to make myself feel good.

Forty-year-old me is talking to a guy about us getting together to suck each other off and with another 40-something guy and we somehow get to talking about masturbating and he proudly says that he’s never masturbated and didn’t believe in it… but thought I was “kinky” because I could never begin to count the number of times I’ve pleasured the shit out of myself and… how and why does a guy my age be proud about not ever masturbating and, better, not believing in it? He did say that the reason why he didn’t do it was because it’s something that someone else is supposed to do.

Oh, I wish you could have seen the look on my face to hear a forty-something-year-old man say this and then something I hadn’t heard a guy say since I was like 14 or thereabouts – but I realized that there’s some… shit that us guys can get told and we’re made to believe it because the adult/parent who told us this… didn’t believe in it, either so if they didn’t believe in it, you couldn’t believe in it. I almost broke the deal with him because of this; I didn’t because I felt this would be me being petty but, still.

People were weird about masturbating and, if nothing else, I just had to… note it. Me? Love doing it. Once told a woman that, I beg your pardon, but this is my dick, and you don’t get to tell me what I can’t do with it! If I want to spend all day jerking off, I can. She maintained that there was no need for me to because it was a woman’s job to get us off and… I just looked at her.

You can imagine that look, can’t you? Here’s a woman who just told me she wasn’t going to have sex with me telling me this and giving me shit because I honestly said that if she didn’t want to, it wasn’t a problem because… I have two hands. Here’s the funny part: Because I said this, we had sex. Go figure, right? But in my ongoing quest to learn all there is to learn about sex and sexuality, this particular thing fascinated me, from the men and women who wouldn’t do it to those who said that it did nothing for them and if it didn’t, um, why not since as far as I knew, it’s supposed to.

Unless one’s mind has something else to say about that. Or that belief that gets imparted to all of us that says that the only meaningful source of sexual stimulation has to come from someone else and, I dunno, as such, not something one should do to and for themselves. I’ve known women who have said that they cannot cum if they masturbate… but they sure as hell can if I do it for them, manually, orally, or both. Or not. Was it really a physical thing… or something else?

Guys who’ve said that, sure, they can get hard and jerk off and… nothing. Again, some kind of physical thing going on with their bodies or… some kind of mental block that got placed there by someone or even themselves, which kinda made sense to me given the number of men who said that they didn’t believe in it and, yeah, I knew some of them were lying like a cheap rug… but, clearly, there was still a lot of stigma attached to getting yourself off and, for me, continuing to ask the question, “If you’re not supposed to do it, who’s supposed to – and why would you expect someone to even want to get you off?”

My bisexuality lent itself to me learning some shit about masturbation. It is very much a personal thing to do and while I’ve had men and women jerk me off, eh, they can’t quite do it the way I can do it to myself but, then again, I know my dick better than anyone else does. I see guys using toys to get themselves off and, well, at least they’re doing it but often wondering if they could masturbate without that kind of assistance and, yeah, my mind really does work like this and, really, it’s of no real consequence because from the day I learned how to masturbate, I have zero shame or guilt over literally taking the matter into my own hands.

I’ve been awakened in the middle of the night with a raging erection and one that isn’t of a mind to go anywhere now that I’m partially awake and, welp, only one thing to do about that, right? Right! I even keep a towel within reach so I don’t have to get up to… clean up the happy mess I made.

Guys on the forum are often very keen to know what we masturbate to (and if we do) and a lot them talk about what they fantasize about and I don’t need to do that because I have a lot of memories of having sex with someone that I can jerk off to… and sometimes I don’t need to call them up in those moments where and when I’m getting myself off… because I need to because it’s what my body is telling me. One member accused me of lying about not having fantasies and I… forgave him because he just assumed that all guys have them but what he didn’t know was that I don’t have any because any fantasies I might have had… were made real. Why fantasize about having sex when all I have to do is think of any moment that I had sex with someone and relive that moment and add to the stimulation I’m already feeling?

In this particular thing, it’s what I learned I could do for myself and despite being told not to. I know that some get… addicted to it and to the extent that some are incapable of having sex with someone and… some folks get nothing out of it at all. In a time where we are talking about self-care, well, um, isn’t being able to get yourself off a part of caring for yourself?

I think it is but that’s me and I’m obviously very biased in that direction. After I finish this, I… going to pleasure myself and just because and… why the hell not? Not really a sexuality thing per se but a sexual thing that became a part of me learning how to be bisexual and to have sex.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 10 May 23, 1409 hours

TMI Tuesday Flashback

I’ll begin with a WordPress thing. I copied the URL to Mrs Jones’ blog so y’all can take a peek at what I’m about to write and instead of the expected URL, I see the above. Again. Sheesh.

Anyway, I read her blog today and she answered an old TMI Tuesday question about the first time she masturbated and it triggered a “memory” revolving around why some guys, if/when they couldn’t have sex with a girl, would opt to have sex with a guy instead of doing what a lot of us were doing: Jerking off. Spanking the monkey. Beating your meat. Choking the chicken. That one always makes me laugh until I recall seeing my mother grab a chicken by the neck and… it became dinner at her aunt’s house and farm. Her technique was flawless.

Anyway, one of the earliest memories of this is being told to not play with myself “down there.” I don’t recall playing with myself and being told this in order to make me stop doing it but I do recall being… fascinated because when I “messed with it,” it would get hard, then soft, and it felt kinda good in between and, well, it felt good. Adult Me recognizes that this moment was my introduction to “that good feeling” I was, later, experiencing pre-puberty and pre-ejaculation when having sex with the guys and gals. If nothing else, it was orgasmic, I would theorize.

I’d say that I’m probably “weird” because I learned to masturbate after I learned how to have sex. More on that later. But I do remember asking my mom why I shouldn’t play with my “thing” and she said, “Because I said so!” My father had overheard my question to her and he chimed in with – wait for it – “If you play with it, it’s gonna make you go blind, and you’ll grow hair on the palms of your hands!”

I immediately looked at the palms of my hands and Adult Me just cringes knowing that I did that. So, I was admonished not to do that which, later, was a kind of moot point since in “rapid succession,” I learned how to have sex with a girl and then with a boy and, jumping jeoshephat! Having already been told and “threatened” to not have sex, “the sex thing” was magical. Beyond exciting. Made me lose what little mind I had back then. Then this happened.

I’d gotten hit by a car. I don’t recommend it as a life experience kind of thing. “Right after that,” I learned about dick. Started having sex with my male friends the very next day. One week after that first experience, I was having sex with my “girlfriend” and ejaculated for the first time and, embarrassingly, thought I was dying. The girl was highly excited by what had happened; she kept saying, “You did it!” and, okay, what did I do? She had me look between her legs and there was a whole lot of white stuff coming out of her and I “recognized” it as the baby-making stuff I’d heard about and in very vague terms. She wanted me to do it again and that second time ejaculating was less… scary. Felt pretty good this time.

It had made me popular to be the first of us guy to “shoot the baby-making stuff.” Adult Me would theorize that because us guys were a kind of closely knit group, it seemed to me that once I could do it, a lot of the other guys started doing it and, say, over a period of two or three years. The one guy in our group who was a few months older than me was the second guy to be able to shoot and it led to this moment in time.

We’d been in my room playing and… I wasn’t feeling very good for some reason. He noticed it and asked me what was wrong and… I didn’t know. I felt edgy, “nervous,” and like I needed to jump out of my skin. He asks me, “Is your dick hard?” and, um, I actually looked down and, yeah, it was hard. He looks, too, and sees that I’m hard and says, “Watch this!” He shucks his shorts and underwear and, gasp, starts playing with himself! His dick gets hard and he’s moving his hand up and down on it and he’s oohing and ahhing and… the baby-making stuff comes flying out of his slit!

“Now you do what I did,” he said. I shuck my shorts and underwear and I… fumble with duplicating what I saw him do but I figured it out, it felt very good and then it felt really good. My friend, I would realize, was on his knees in front of me to, I guess, watch what I was going so when I shot my stuff, he got it in his face! Ah, but the moment I was done shooting it, I… felt better. He tells me that what was wrong with me was that I was “horny” and if I felt this way again – and there was no one around I could do it to, I could “jerk off.”

To heck with going blind or growing hair on the palms of my hands! This felt incredible! Now, Adult Me would wonder how my friend knew about this and I never figured it out but I’ll say “shortly thereafter,” I would see that there were a lot of the guys who were afraid to jerk off because, yup, they would go blind but because they couldn’t get a girl to do it to, they decided that doing it with a guy was the “next best thing” and not likely to make them go blind or get hairy. I would learn that some guys got caught playing with themselves and punished for it as well as for disobeying the order to never do that.

Adult Me would realize that this made a lot of guys seriously leery to pleasure themselves but, in a way, that was a “good” thing because I got to have sex with them. I have a memory of a friend being scolded for jerking off and making a mess of it and his father telling him that men are not supposed to do that because… that’s what women are for.

Sorry, ladies, but I’m just telling you like it was. Growing up, I had a lot of sex with guys who wouldn’t jerk off and for whatever reason they wouldn’t, from the “blind” thing to the “women” thing to them not believing in doing that but I would learn that guys who didn’t masturbate were being left with few options for getting off and, again, more so when by the time I was really aware of this, girls were putting their pussies on lockdown and for a whole lot of reasons. I’d run into a guy who only wanted us to jerk off together which, okay, nothing unusual about that except this guy… wouldn’t jerk himself. Off or otherwise. Insisted that I had to do it for him and when I asked why, he said that it was because he wasn’t supposed to do it for himself.

Okay, this was weird, but I reached over and jerked him off – but he could jerk me (yup, go figure, right?) – and he came all over the place and I wasn’t that far behind him. I wanted to “dig into” why he couldn’t do this for himself, but I left it alone and wondered about it in my head and, yeah, some guys are just weird about some stuff. He wants us to do this again and I’m all for it but as I’m pulling his pud I really want to suck his dick and the urge to do so was incredible but before I could ask him if I could, he stops pulling my pud, swoops down, and starts sucking me! Okay, what the heck? See, we were jerking off because he didn’t believe in doing anything else but here he was blowing me and we wound up in a 69 and both of us getting a mouthful of spunk.

Of course, I asked him why he did that and… he couldn’t really say why other than “it made sense” but he also said that while I was jerking him, he “just wanted” me to suck him and, well, he made the first move in this. So, going forward, we would start out jerking each other and going right to sucking each other off… but he wouldn’t jerk himself off. He said that he thought it would okay if someone else jerked him off but not okay if he did it himself. One day, he wanted to watch me jerk off and, yeah, I didn’t have a problem with him – or anyone else – watching me do this and glorious moments later, I was shooting and he’s looking at me like I’d done something very evil; he even said, “I don’t know how you can do that and not feel bad about doing it – aren’t you afraid that something bad is gonna happen because you did?”

I wasn’t… but he was. Jumping ahead a few decades, 30-year-old Adult Me is with a 35-year-old guy who… had never jerked off until the day we hooked up. At first, I didn’t believe him because, okay, who gets to be this old and hasn’t spanked their monkey? Ah, but this guy is Catholic and shared with me their believe that, essentially, anything that doesn’t make a baby is forbidden and that includes the sin of masturbation. Okay, I’d heard this one before and, indeed, it was one of the reasons why, back in the Younger Me days, a lot of guys wouldn’t masturbate. What didn’t make sense to me was that a lot of them were okay with doing some sucking and fucking with guys and that, too, was a sin. But this version of me had already learned that masturbation… isn’t a sin and those who said it was took that whole moment in the bible totally out of context but I’d also realized that it was a good way to make guys keep their hands off of their dick.

And then the whole thing being justified if someone else did the jerking. Well, um, if it’s a sin – and it never was – isn’t it still a sin because a guy’s seed would be spilt upon the ground by someone else doing that? I thought so but, yeah, what did I know? This guy was good at sucking dick and he preferred to be screwed over doing any screwing because, you know, that’s sodomy and that’s a sin, too, and, okay, dude, there’s some shit that’s not quite right going on in your head but that’s you and not me. I was surprised when he asked me if it was really that bad to jerk yourself off and I said that the only way it’s bad if he believed it to be and, a little while later, I got to watch at 35-year-old man masturbate for the first time in his life.

“I don’t really know why I never did this before because I always wanted to and all my friends were doing it,” he said. The thing that stood out to me was that he could have sex with guys – and knowing it’s a sin and highly immoral – but hadn’t gotten himself off until now. I was, at the time, learning a lot about how guys justified having sex with dudes and this experience gave me a lot of food for thought; it seemed to me that for such men, masturbating themselves into bliss was the “greater evil” but, okay, if actually having sex with a guy was also a great evil, what’s really going on in someone’s mind about this? I knew from the younger days that a lot of guys – and gals – got the shit shamed out of them for even being suspected of masturbating and also learned that if guys were weird about this, girls were just as weird.

Mrs. Jones’ answer to this question lit the bulb over my head and explained to me why my older sister used to sit with one leg tucked under – and her heel in her crotch – and she’d just rock back and forth. I’d thought that… this was just the way she like to sit and, yeah, she very well could have been getting herself off like this and not only in “plain sight” but in a way that no one suspected what she was doing. I remember talking to one bisexual woman and her telling me that she got into eating pussy… because she, too, was told that playing with her pussy was a very bad thing. She’d told me about being with one of her friends and they were both hot and bothered but neither of them would play with their pussies – or wanted their pussies played with – but licking and kissing them was… just fine and dandy.

She had asked me if guys got into this for this reason and I said, “Yup, a lot of guys I knew would prefer to actually have sex than to jerk themselves off or allow someone else to do it.” We both allowed that it didn’t make sense not to masturbate and more so when if you couldn’t have sex with someone, um, what are you supposed to do? Interestingly enough, she told me that once she really got into having sex with girls – and being disappointed by guys leaving her hanging – she got to masturbating “like there was no tomorrow” and even wondered why she never did it before.

Our society likes to shame people for having sex. It’s dirty and nasty and even more so if you were to masturbate and to the extent that if someone close enough to you to be able to ask if you masturbate, one’s first thought is to…not admit to it. I would think that, okay, when it comes to having sex, we’re supposed to have sex with somebody… but not supposed to have sex with ourselves in any way and I knew a lot of people who believed that if you masturbated, there had to be something very wrong with you. I’m talking to a guy and we’re trying to work out the details of meeting for sex and he asks me if I’ve ever gotten myself off and I’m thinking, “What kind of question is that?” but said that, sure, I have and more times than I could ever count.

He asked if I only did it when I couldn’t have sex with someone and I told him that, no, that’s not the only time or reason why I get myself off: I do it whenever I feel like doing it and my developed belief that if you can’t pleasure yourself, well, that’s a problem. He was going to break the deal and all because I routinely did something that he himself didn’t believe in – but he couldn’t explain why he didn’t believe but I suspected that, like so many other men and women, he had been traumatically shamed into not giving himself this pleasure… but having sex with another guy was, I dunno, the better option?

I’d been putting together the “entry points” I was learning about where having sex with another guy was concerned. The “easiest” entry point is… getting together with a guy and jerking off in front of each other and keep your hands to yourself. Guys I would encounter and were into this felt that if they jerked themselves off “in front” of another guy, it wasn’t gay. Just two guys doing what guys are known to do, right? The next step in the progression is jerking each other off. Well, that’s not “all that gay,” right? It gave new meaning to asking a guy to “give you a hand” and, usually, it seemed, both guys deciding that this wasn’t really gay because jerking off wasn’t really sex… right?

The “usual” entry point is cocksucking and guys I’ve talked to who decided to jump into the pool this way said that other than being curious over what it was like, it was better than jerking themselves off or someone else doing it. I would become very aware of some guys who, inexplicably, would be 100% “we’re only gonna jerk off, okay?” and the next thing I knew, they’d be sucking me and, later, when I’d ask why they changed their minds (and the deal), they’d say that… it just made sense and jerking me off, well, sometimes, they couldn’t say anything about that other than them getting the same thoughts and feelings I’d get when I’d be jerking a guy and… then I’m sucking him but, of course, for me, sucking a guy’s dick had become second nature to me and, yeah, more fun and satisfying than beating his meat.

I’d think that because we’re told to have sex with someone and shamed into not masturbating, the justification for having said sex with a guy in lieu of masturbating… makes sense in a way I’m not sure I can really explain. What I do know is, again, I had a lot of sex with a lot of guys who didn’t masturbate and, for them, sex with me was “better than nothing.” I know, sounds kinda insulting to be an afterthought but, um, as a guy, I get it but once I learned about it and how to do it, I’d do it without one single ounce of shame. I remember a woman I was with who caught me choking the chicken and giving me some shit about it and I told her that she didn’t get to tell me what I could do with my own goddamned dick. She said that I was supposed to ask her to have sex and there was no reason for me to do what I was doing. So, I asked her and, predictably, she said, “Not right now but later, okay?”

And… she was wondering why I was getting myself off? I’d learn that some women didn’t like giving hand jobs because they weren’t getting anything out of it and, indeed, when I’d ask a girl/woman to jerk me off, they’d often respond with, “What’s in it for me?” Some would because they didn’t want to have sex and let’s say that they weren’t… enthusiastic about doing it and would often do it in a way that told me that the faster they got this over with, the better. Well, if what I’d been hearing was true – that a guy has no reason to masturbate because a woman is supposed to do it and/or have sex with us so we don’t have to jerk off – then something was rotten in the state of Denmark and, as such, the “justification” for beating my own meat was quite acceptable since there were others who weren’t of a mind to do it for me.

I will never, ever, forget being severely lectured when I got caught having sex with a guy and my mother telling me that when I feel the need to have sex, to use my hand. This is the same woman who, years before, told me to never play with myself and… because she said so. Quite the contradiction, wouldn’t you agree? Not that I heeded her admonishment and, guess what, Dad? I didn’t go blind and I didn’t start growing hair on the palms of my hands… but, duh, he fucking knew that neither thing was likely to happen – and, as an aside, some folks have a medical condition that makes them grow hair on their palms but it’s a sure bet that they didn’t get this because they were masturbating.

But things in the early days showed that guys who didn’t masturbate would, at times, turn to having sex with guys and, again, usually, because they couldn’t get any pussy. A guy is complaining about how bad his balls are hurting – and had been for a couple of days – and that he needs to get laid and I asked him, “Why didn’t you just jerk off?” and he said, “I don’t believe in that shit! But man, I gotta do something because this shit fucking hurts!” I offered to suck him off and out of a sense of “mercy” because, yeah, I know what that feels like. He said that he didn’t believe in “that shit” either… but one blowjob later, he was a believer and he found that sucking dick wasn’t all that bad except for that taste. I very badly wanted to know how he justified this in his head but, nah, I wasn’t going to ask him but, still, it struck me as being very damned peculiar that a guy who didn’t believe in masturbating was okay with me doing something to him that he also didn’t believe in…

But guys tend to be… any port in a storm. It’s either better than nothing or it turns out to be better than jerking off and then, being frustrated when you do it and… you don’t get much in the way of relief or pleasure from it and this, too, is something that a lot of guys who do masturbate are very familiar with. A guy asks me what I do when I jerk off and it doesn’t do anything for me and I said, “I try to find someone I can have sex with.” He asked, “But what if a dude offers to give you a blowjob? Would you take him up on it?”

And I said, “Yeah, I would…” and, what a surprise – he’s shocked. I ask him which thing he thought was better: Jerking off and there’s no joy or getting your dick sucked and your nuts emptied and, if nothing else, he saw the logic of it and since I had reasoned that he asked that question because he needed to get off and jerking off wasn’t getting it done for him, his question was one of those backhanded ways guys came up with to ask me if I’d be interested in blowing them. Well, I was right and… I sucked the life out of him, and in return, he jerked me off (but I hadn’t asked for anything in return). He was… happy. Wanted to know if he could come to me instead of jerking off and, well, okay, as long as you don’t make a habit out of it and as I’d had happen with some guys who (a) didn’t masturbate or (b) got frustrated over masturbating.

The question I had, then and now, was… what’s the logic behind deciding that having some kind of sex with a dude is the answer to being able to get off when (a) they can try their luck with a woman and/or (b) literally take things into their own hands? I don’t pretend to understand this anymore than I pretend to understand what makes a guy decide that sucking the dick he’s been jerking on… makes more sense and more so when it’s something they’ve never done before and that’s because… they don’t believe in that shit. But any port in a storm… fits us. Some kind of… logic that says that if you’re opposed to getting yourself off – but you can’t find a female who’s willing to accommodate you then, um, maybe a guy would be accommodating. Those points of entry I mentioned and “easing in to the taboo” by whipping it out with another guy present and getting yourself off. Or giving each other a hand since, um, it might be “bad” to do this for yourself but not so much if he’s doing it for you and it’s not “bad” to give him a hand in things.

There’s no logic that explains this but, again, what I have experienced is some guys who don’t and won’t masturbate have found that having sex with a guy… works. Fills the need. I won’t tell if you won’t, okay? And, yeah, some women can be just as weird about masturbating as guys can be and I’ve had many tell me why they don’t masturbate or why they never masturbated and…

Sighing. A lot of talk on social media about self-care and, well, shit yeah – if you aren’t going to take care of yourself, who’s supposed to? They don’t mention masturbation as a part of that self-care but it’s my opinion that it’s, at the least, implied and, sure it makes sense even though social norms makes “autoeroticism” a shameful thing to get into. And, in context, if you won’t or can’t get yourself off, who’s supposed to and more so when we all know how iffy that can be? It’s such a “shameful” thing that it’s considered to be inappropriate to ask someone if they masturbate and, well, that’s none of your business.

I’ve seen the… inability to masturbate in men push them into the “bi zone” because, if nothing else, it’s… better than not being able to get off. If we consider both things to be wrong, um, okay, we’re weird about anything related to having sex and, again, logically, it doesn’t make sense to forego one “wrong” thing for another thing that is the epitome and poster child for being wrong: Having sex with another guy. A hand or blow job. Some fucking could be involved. It… makes sense.

I’m going to go jerk off now…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Spank That Monkey!

While banishing the spammers from Tumblr, the first thing I see is a montage of guys beating their meat and busting nuts while staring into the camera and, I’d suppose, giving today’s technology, watching themselves getting their rocks off – the new version of standing in front of a mirror and doing it.

First thought: Guys doing what most guys love doing.

Second thought: Some guys aren’t fans of masturbation – they usually say, “That’s what women are for!” Or maybe some other dude is supposed to do for them.

Third thought: That’s a lot of wasted sperm…

Fourth thought: Why are only young and hung guys being shown pleasuring themselves?

I’m watching the montage and just looking at the expressions on the guys’ faces; they’re trying to look cool as the fiercely manhandle their cocks, well, until they reach that moment of no return and they cum… and it’s funny that some of the guys are trying to look cool when their body is suggesting the stop try to be cool and give into the feelings. One guy was looking cool one second – then looked like he was… surprised when the spunk started flowing…. and he gave up on trying to look cool pretty quick.

One of the hot topics on the forum is jerking off – who still does it, how often it’s done and even asking if spanking the monkey is a poor substitute for having sex – and the answers are all quite varied as you might expect but, um, do you really need a reason to wrap your hand around your cock and make yourself cum… and other than just because you can?

It’s usually the first sexual experience we have and it’s been discovers that children in the womb appear to be masturbating before they’re born. I grew up being told to never do it – hairy palms and blindness were possible consequences but, um, it never stopped me and I’m fairly certain that many other guys were more than willing to deal with going blind or having to shave the palms of their hands.

Why? Because if feels good to do it – what other reason is needed?

You could, if you were of a mind to, get someone else to jerk you off… and it’s good but not quite the same as doing it yourself because you know better than anyone how to work your meat in just the right way to produce that toe-curling, ugly face making result. Then it’s all about cleaning up the mess or, if you’re in a relationship, getting rid of the evidence: Some women feel some kind of way knowing that their man is getting himself off.

Women know we do it but, yeah, sometimes feel that we shouldn’t… but aren’t always of a mind to literally lend us a hand so we’re left to our own devices. I get that for some women, it’s a thankless chore and, indeed, a lot of guys confess that sometimes, jerking off seems to be a waste of time.

You do it because that blue balls thing you hear about is very real and very painful but, eh, relieving the pressure isn’t always satisfying – but at least you’re not feeling like someone hauled off and drop-kicked you in the crotch.

For many men, it’s their only sexual outlet and I’ve heard of guys saying that they’re addicted to masturbation. Some guys do it once in a while while some say they do it several times a day and all week long… and even if they’re getting laid.

Why? That shit just feels good – do ya really need or expect a different answer?

For shits and giggles, try explaining this to a woman or, really, anyone who isn’t a true fan of getting themselves off… and watch the look they get. Hell’s bells… I even wound up telling someone once that it’s my dick and I don’t need a reason – or permission – to play with it until I cum – duh.

And sometimes, it’s not about busting a nut – it just feels good to be hard and throbbing and feeling the heat of it in your hand. These days, a lot of guys are into edging – delaying ejaculation for as long as possible and I guess this is a good thing, could be a bad one – I don’t know because when I do it, um, it’s for the expected result and if it literally comes early or later, doesn’t much matter to me as long as it happens.

Guys being guys, there’s some… interest in how much spunk one delivers when choking the chicken. Realistically, it’s either gonna be a lot or a little bit that’s not really an indication that the pump is broken… and I think too many guys watch a lot of porn where the guy pulls out (or whatever), yanks his crank, and there’s an unbelievable amount of semen flying into the air and landing… somewhere…. and I guess some guys get dismayed because they can’t shoot like a porn star… and some guys are kinda worried because they can bring huge loads.

I’m obviously a guy and I don’t pretend to really understand this one but, okay, some guys do, some guys don’t.

Another big topic: What do you fantasize about when you jerk off? And, nope, I’m not even surprised over what bi guys fantasize about and, no, don’t even think about asking me what’s going on inside my head when I do it, not because I’m ashamed or,anything like that – there just not a whole lot of words I can use to write about although I will say that a lot of times, I’m not thinking about anything other than what I’m feeling bit let it suffice to say that the inside of my mind in these moments is way beyond any X-rating that can be applied. Some guys create fantasies in their minds but I have a wealth of sexual experiences I can recall from storage to serve that purpose.

A lot of guys get their start by literally playing with another guy’s cock and for many bi guys, it’s the only way they express their bisexuality and pretty much the safest way. Some guys admit that they can’t manhandle another dude’s dick and resist the urge to put said dick into their mouth but that’s just something I’d say is pretty normal. Indeed, I know a lot of guys who say they’d jerk you off but not suck you… and then wind up doing the one thing they promised themselves they’d never do and, frankly, I can’t say that I blame them for breaking that promise because it somehow makes sense to go from stroking a dick to sucking it.

Then there are the guys who, for whatever reason, refuse to pleasure themselves. I heard some of the reasons why they don’t and won’t and while I wouldn’t necessarily agree with their reasoning, it is their reasoning after all. In my way of thinking, some guys are… Neanderthals in their mindset – that “That’s what women are for!” mentality and I’d guess that’s all well as good… as long as you can get a woman to have sex with you and that’s not always a given – it makes me wonder how they handle not getting laid and/or having their balls aching.

Is there anything erotic about watching a guy beat his meat? I suppose there is – we’re always and strangely interested in how we do it and looking for tips and tricks to make spanking the monkey better and more exciting, like the guy in the forum who was asking about whether or not using a TEMS device would produce better orgasms and releases if the electrodes were attached to his dick.

Yeah, right – okay, have fun with that one. Still, there’s a fascination with watching a guy doing something that you’ve done to yourself an untold number of times that I’m unable to explain – it just is what it is. I do it, other guys do it, nothing unusual going on, right? Doesn’t really explain the erotic beauty of watching a hard dick being stroked and it’s not your cock you’re looking at but, you betcha, we do like watching ourselves pulling our own puds and the only explanation I can offer is that it’s just erotic to look – we are some very sexually visual creatures even if we’re just watching ourselves going through the process of making ourselves bust a nut.

Why do it? Why not do it? It’s probably the one healthy thing a guy can do for and by himself since it’s been proven that masturbation is good for a healthy prostate.

That and that shit just feels good.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Pulling it Off

Just remembered something else I wanted to scribble about from something I read on the bi guys forum.  In this forum, we just don’t talk about the complexities of male bisexuality – we talk about other guy things as well and when I was on the site earlier, I read a post by a guy who, essentially, said that he didn’t have time to masturbate even when he has the urge to.  He was asking the membership about when and where be a good time to pull one off…

And I thought that if a guy (or even a gal) couldn’t find or make the time to pleasure themselves, what in the hell are you doing that takes some much time that you couldn’t find a few moments to do that?

Aight, here we go:  It’s no secret that people are funny about this particular topic. I’m sure there probably isn’t a guy who hasn’t heard that jerking off could make you go blind and make you grow hair on your palms.  The more studious of us probably know that once upon a time, masturbation was considered to be a mental illness and one that had to be cured… and in ways that would have made Torquemada and the Marquis de Sade very happy campers.

Some folks believe it’s a complete waste of time because it gives them no pleasure at all; I’ve heard guys proclaim that they don’t need to spank the monkey because if they wanna bust a nut, that’s what women are for (sorry ladies but that’s what they said); some folks actually believe that masturbation is a sin – and, actually, that’s not true and I recommend doing a Google search on “The Sin of Onan” to find out what his sin really was.  Rumor has it that the Catholic Church frowns upon men jerking off because it’s a form of contraception – that prohibition is probably directly responsible for folks believing this was Onan’s sin (and one, if I remember correctly, he got offed for).

To save you a search, Onan’s sin wasn’t that he spilt his seed upon the ground; his crime was failing to conform to a tribal law that required him, upon the death of his brother, to take the late brother’s wife as his own and then fill her with child – and in short order, if ya don’t mind.  Onan felt some kind of way about this and he did screw her as mandated but just as he was about to inseminate her, he pulled out and, well, we know where it went and it wasn’t inside her,

Anyway, while there are those who feel and/or believe that choking the chicken is pointless (or whatever), wow, how can a guy who’s not adverse to doing it not find the time to do it?  I’ve had some days that have made me wish that a day was longer than twenty-four hours and days where I thought that I didn’t have the time to think about not having the time to do something… but if I had the urge to squeeze one out, yup, I’d find the time to do it and, indeed, as highly stressful some of my days were, going it was necessary stress relief.

Now, I can understand “making an appointment” to get laid – you do have to coordinate this with someone else after all – but, um, making an appointment to massage yourself into erection and then have a nice mess to clean up?  Okay, sure, I can see putting it off if you’re in the middle of doing something when the urge hits you; finish whatever you’re doing and then, ahem, take matters into your own hand.  Wait, you say you’re at work and that it wouldn’t be appropriate to hit the men’s room, have a seat in a stall, and take care of business?  What, you’re at the in-laws or even visiting your family and it wouldn’t seem right to excuse yourself to take care of a personal matter?

Afraid someone’s gonna walk in on you?  Worried that someone will think you’re weird for wanting to masturbate in the first place?  If so, well, damn…

Someone asked me back in the day if I masturbated – not sure I remember why they asked – but I know they were… disturbed because I said, “Yeah, and every chance I get!”

They seemed confused; wasn’t I married?

“Of course I am… and that means what?”

They inquired that if I was married, then there was no need to jerk off so why do it?

“Two reasons:  Because I can and, uh, because it feels good; is there some other reason required or that I don’t know about?”

“You’re weird…,” was their only response and I did wonder why they thought that getting myself off whenever the mood struck me was so unusual.  I mean, even though I knew some folks had reasons for not doing it, that seemed to be more weird to me; as it was once suggested, the only abnormal sex is not having sex at all… and even if it’s with yourself.

I didn’t ask the guy who wrote the post what, how, or even why he felt that he didn’t have the time to pleasure himself and I might go back and ask him.  I mean, this is one of those things where you don’t need much of a reason to do it and, depending on one’s sense of adventure, can be done almost anywhere and at any time you can get a few moments of privacy (preferred).  Now, I’ve seen some clips of guys walking down a busy street and stroking themselves, riding the train or the bus and doing it, stuff like that.  Perhaps inappropriate but still makes the point that, yup, any time you can do it is a good time and where you do it, well, that’s up to you.

But if you say, “I wanna do it but I don’t have the time to do it…” well, some inquiring minds wanna know what’s up with dat… and if the answer isn’t, “It takes me too long to cum!” the inquiring minds really wanna know what the deal is.

 

I Want To…

It begins with a feeling, a kind of itchy warmth originating in my groin and it’s a familiar one and quite unmistakable.  I may not be immediately aware of it; I may be doing something unrelated to things sexual, like playing a game or watching television.  The feeling arrives unbidden and at the moment I become aware of it, I just know what it is…

And what I have to do… and now it’s off to the bathroom, not because I think Linda will be freaked out to see me doing myself but, eh, this is not a time I want any distractions like maybe having the cat getting all into my business (the nosy heifer).

By the time I get there, my cock is already beginning to swell, my mind is disconnecting from conscious thought and slipping into that pornographic place in my mind which, thanks to my experiences and imagination, contain a plethora of sexual thoughts that will aid me to getting where I want to be.

It’s erotic and oh, so stimulating, with just the right sense of “danger” because I know Linda might get concerned and come looking for me and the thought of her “barging” in and catching me in the act sends thrills all through me… and now it’s a question of whether or not I want to take a seat on the throne or stand before the bathroom mirror and watch what I’m doing… and all because I’m a guy and we are all so very visual even when doing ourselves.

My pants and underwear are down around my ankles and my hand proceeds to finish bringing me to a full erection if I’m not already there and, gods, it feels so good to feel my blood rushing to this part of me while feeling rational thinking take a seat on the bench… and now it’s on with a purpose.

The XXX-rated theater in my mind is scanning through so many images and scenarios that I can’t keep up with them… and there’s no telling what it’ll settle on; maybe it’s my Linda and the amazing skills she possesses or, as some people want to believe, I “willfully” commit an act of infidelity if my thoughts crystallize onto a past lover, male or female, or even someone I wouldn’t object to having sex with if I could – and that person may not even exist but, yeah, that’s just the way my imagination works and it is powerful.

All the while my hand is moving up and down my shaft; I look up and see the reflection of what I’m doing to myself and, fuck, I never get tired of the sight of my dick hard and all that does is add some extra incentive to finish what I’ve started and maybe even how I want that to happen.

Maybe I’m going for the quick, totally mindless release that’s devoid of the ultra-X-rated images I’m capable of summoning; I just want to cum fast and hard and it gets interesting because I have to do this left-handed – and I’m right-handed but, okay, that fucking stroke trashed my fine motor skills on my right side but I’ve learned to adapt, improvise, and overcome so I can continue to do something that, off the top of my head, I’ve done thousands of times since I first learn how to get myself off.

Maybe I want to take my time and prolong the inevitable , my eyes watching my hand as if it doesn’t belong to me while the images race along in my mind, adding more fuel to the fire that must burn… but I’m also trying to temper and bank because this, too, feels so damned good.

Either way, I eventually get to a point where I need the release… and I don’t want to do it; even the highly pornographic images in my mind are being ignored or just goes away, my focus totally on what my hand is doing to me and how it’s making me feel, pushing me ever closer to the edge…

And shoving me unceremoniously over the edge and into the abyss.  I can see the spurts of cum but I’m not really seeing them although I have been surprised to see where that first spurt winds up landing and/or how far it travels… but it’s a passing, fleeting thought because I’m being consumed by my release, my whole body going from orgasmic rigidity to boneless flaccidity and if I’m standing up, well, I’m in danger of winding up falling – not good when standing up is a piece of work to begin with.

Now it’s a matter of remembering how to think and breathe and, yes, how to get up if I’m sitting, and getting my legs to cooperate with that standing up thing.  Oh, yeah, there’s a mess that has to be dealt with but that’s just part of the process although I just might treat myself and lick my hand and fingers clean – and just because it’s a fun thing to do and what’s the point of acquiring the taste if you’re not going to indulge in it?

And now it’s back to whatever I was doing before the urge to do this struck me, knowing full well that I just might feel that urge again and very soon…

 

Rubbing One Out

Are you familiar with the term? It is one of many euphemisms for masturbating or, if you wanna be PC about it, autoeroticism, yeah, you know what I am talking about, don’t you?

This isn’t as much as whether you really do it or even how you do it but as this crossed my mind, I got to thinking about where we go when we do it and how we just seem to know what to do and how to do it and all without really thinking about it.

I know my mind takes off and goes somewhere as I massage myself, an action I’ve done so many times and is so familiar that I’m not even thinking about nor am I really watching what I’m doing because, yeah, I’ve seen it so many times before. Sometimes my mind goes straight to that storehouse of erotic images, some real, some just a figment of my very active imagination; sometimes my mind is focused on one specific thing, oh, like how good it feels to be hard, to feel the length and thickness of my erection right along with the increasing rise in my body temperature… and I marvel at it and at how natural it feels to be manipulating myself in this fashion.

I know at some point my ability to think will fade into the background, that the images, which were once HD-quality, are now mere blurs racing through my head as I slip from conscious thought to primal reaction as that part of my brain that loves this takes over.

I don’t exactly blank out; I’m not exactly unaware or all that oblivious to my surroundings or how I’m feeling. I hear, see, and feel everything just as much as I’m not really doing these things because I am distracted, feeling my… essence collimating into one sharp focus as I work my way into my inevitable release.

The thing that often amazes me is that I know that I’m there but not there; I often feel disembodied, as if I’m on the outside looking in and almost as if I’m really watching someone else as the pressure builds and now I’m trying to decide if I want to prolong this pleasure or do I want to just do it and let myself become swamped in sensations that words are truly unable to convey.

I know, without really having to see it, that my sperm is flowing and I revel in feeling my cock pulsing in my hand as I involuntarily gasp as the feelings of release wash over me – and sometimes with such force that my knees buckle and makes me do my best to stay upright if I’m standing or damned glad that I am sitting or lying down.

There’s that “aah” moment tinged with a bit of regret because it felt so good to this but now the moment is over. Clarity return even as my mind comes back from wherever it went and now, as all of the good sensations are ebbing, it’s all about cleaning up and going back to whatever I was doing before rubbing one out became a damned good idea… and until the next time.

How about you? Where do you go?

 

Yesterday Afternoon…,

…I had this totally delicious thought in my head about masturbating, encompassing a lot of the feelings and thoughts that go into taking matters into your own hands… and other activities that had to be taken care of erased it from the blackboard of my mind.

I was unhappy, too, because while I was thinking about it, man, it was so very delicious, beginning with the thought that a guy can do this with or without a reason; he can do it ’cause it’s his cock and, hairy palms and ocular impairments aside, he can engage in some autoeroticism just because he can.  My thoughts had drifted to being in a place – any place – that’ll give a degree of privacy and, naturally, I was thinking about all the places I’ve ever grabbed myself a bit of nirvana and, sometimes, in locations where it wasn’t so very private.

I thought about what would be going through my mind as I dropped my pants and underwear and, um, since I’ve been doing this for a long time, I thought about the images that would begin to race along the HD screen of my mind, of all the sex I’ve ever had, the people I’ve had it with, the sex I want to have and even the sex that’s in the unseen future.  I thought about the changes my body would undergo, from that moment of a bit of dizziness as the blood rushes to my dick to the changes in my heart rate and breathing; I thought about thinking about how I want to get myself off – do I want to do it slowly and tease myself or do I just want to test my hand speed and break some kind of record for getting myself off?

I thought about how I’ll have all these things going through my head and how I could be paying attention to them as my hand works my shaft without having to think about it; I even thought about how many times I’ve done this to and for myself and how it just never really gets old or bothersome.  Then I thought about the moment where I kinda just stop thinking, working my shit with what I thought of as a mindless purpose, my eyes locked onto the erection encased by my hand or, sometimes, fixed and staring at nothing at all, seeing without seeing, and while jerking myself off is visually pleasing, it’s all about the feelings taking place before I get to the point of no return.

And I thought that it depends on whether or not I actually want to get to that point; maybe I do, maybe I don’t but that’s never predetermined – it’s one of those ‘decisions’ made on the fly and dependent upon how I’m feeling at that moment and a few other things I can’t put into words.  I thought about the ongoing physiological changes – increased breathing, increased heart rate and blood flow, increased body temperature and how it all combines to put me well into that mindless purpose.

I know I’m trying to recreate my original thoughts on this and I gotta tell you that this writing just does not do any justice to my original thoughts; it’s not even close to my thoughts and feelings as I thought about how good it feels to masturbate, that same naughty feeling I discovered the first time I pulled my pud.  I thought about those early times when I played with myself and just so I could not only marvel at the process of going from soft to hard but to get that rush of pleasure, realizing that I was giving myself an orgasm without even knowing the word existed – all I knew and cared about was it felt damned good.  Of course, my next thought was about jerking myself off so I could see that stuff come out of the end of my dick, my curiosity and heady pleasure combining so that I could really see myself cum… and I got to see it because I shot myself in the eye with that first spurt – now I knew why the old heads said that if you masturbated, you could go blind.

I know that I had a moment of silence for all those folks who either have no use for masturbation or sees it as a futile effort and major waste of one’s time, saying a quick prayer for them because circumstances won’t allow them to experience the most personal thing one can do to one’s self.  But, man, the thoughts that were going through my mind!  Even as I thought about it, I could feel my body starting to respond, that little nugget of sensation that seems to be able to tell me that, yeah, you should go spank the monkey and just because it sounds like a good idea.  Alas, all that hot and juicy (and sinfully detailed) stuff went by the wayside because of more important things that had to be dealt with.

Damn!

 

Morning Musings

I awoke this morning with masturbation on my mind and, no, I’m not really sure why although I suspect my bladder might have had something to do with it since it chose to wake me up with an overly full feeling.  So now I’m up and starting the morning routine as the rain was really coming down, pelting the bedroom windows and giving my bladder more reason to continue to fuck with me.  As I began to wash up, my mind was working hard to recall when I learned – or perhaps was taught – that if I played with that thing between my legs, not only would it get bigger but it sure felt good.  I dimly recall one of my friends showing me how he made his ‘ding-a-ling’ hard but I dimly remember that it was already old news to me – he wasn’t showing me anything I didn’t already know.  I can’t remember if I was six or seven but by the time I got laid for the first time a eight, I knew what that “good feeling” felt like and was amazed that one could get that good feeling by putting his ding-a-ling inside a girl’s kitty cat.

Wonders of wonders, huh?  I ejaculated for the first time when I was nine, just before I had my first taste of dick… but I can’t remember (or haven’t remembered yet) when I figured out that if I played with it enough, that baby-making stuff would come shooting out and give that still-scary feeling like I was gonna die or something.  It’s funny… I can remember shooting my stuff into boys and girls (made me kinda popular since I was doing that before my peers) but I can’t seem to remember “officially” jerking off for the first time… but I can remember spending a lot of time in the bathroom and going through a lot of toilet paper and even trying to get rid of the evidence when I’d make myself shoot all over the place lying in bed – and I totally failed at that and remember my father telling me that I had better not be doing anything with girls and get them into trouble, just as I remember laughing to myself as I thought his warning was a day late and a dollar short – kinda silly to tell me not to do something I was already doing with great glee and, oh, yeah, just not with girls.

As I returned to the bedroom and started to set up our morning medications, I was trying to remember the first time someone other than myself jerked me off and whether it was a guy or a gal that did it.  Something in the back of my head whispered that it was a girl ’cause I kinda remember the look on her face when I shot my stuff all over the place and it was all over her hand and that she wasn’t happy about it.  My mind switched from this to trying to remember when a guy did it and he wasn’t pulling on my dick to get it hard so I could stick it in him.  I can easily remember later years and getting with a few guys whose only interest was mutual masturbation, which sparked a thought of whether or not I had ever participated in a circle jerk.

I was in the kitchen after getting dressed, getting the fixings for my first cup of coffee for the day and getting Linda’s tea set up so I could get that going once she got up… and my mind was still pondering a few mysteries or blank spots  in my memory and I decided then that I was going to write about this and with the hope that by doing so, those missing things might get uncovered or shaken loose.  I said to myself, “It’s not like I don’t enjoy masturbating…” and I felt a moment of what I’d call pride to think about not having one ounce of shame about doing it; but as I sat down with my coffee and started my usual daily routine, I was a little frustrated because I couldn’t remember the first time a guy jerked me off – and I still can’t remember it even though I can’t shake the certain feeling that a some point in my early debauchery period, some guy did jerk me off and just because he could.

My mind was quick to point out that being jerked off while getting my dick sucked wasn’t quite the same, citing examples where I was with a guy who didn’t want sperm in his mouth… but I saw that as being different from any situations where jerking me off – and me doing the same for him – was the only item on the table.  It’s not like I didn’t know that men engaged in mutual masturbation as a singular activity; I’d heard of it, even saw it in progress once and even remembered that I had arrived too late on the scene to be invited… or something like that – I just remember being a spectator and not really upset about being relegated to the sidelines until the jerking was all done with and things escalated to giving blow jobs.

I started writing this and took a few moments to curse my bladder for putting this thought in my head – I’m still sure it was the culprit and I don’t care that it keeps denying any involvement.  I can remember moments where a guy wanted to play with my dick because, as he said, he wasn’t into sucking dick and then being not-so surprised when he went from pounding my pud to giving me a pretty good blow job; the old noodle, now primed with some caffeine, started to work with a purpose as I began typing, trying to figure out when a guy jerked me off for the first time and if I remember who it was… and I’m beginning to think it’s gonna take more than caffeine to find what I’m looking for, although I also have to admit that this initial event might have resided in the parts of my memory that got damaged by the stroke.

At this point, I’m just not sure; I know it had to have happened – after all, there is a first time for everything.  While fixing Linda’s tea, thoughts about all the times I had another guy’s hand on my cock and how those guys never seemed to choke my chicken the way I would, not that they did a bad job of making it feel good… except this one guy who was doing it so hard and fast I had to make him stop before I gave into the urge to punch him in the face; I remember him asking, “But ain’t that how you do it?  That’s how I do mine!”  That would explain why his junk looked like he had some permanent bruising…  Since I complained about his jack hammer technique, he decided to give me a rather nice blowjob.

I know that I’ve finished off a guy with my hand because I either got tired of sucking him, wanted to see him shoot his load, or his pre-cum told me that the real deal wasn’t going to be very tasty.  I know guys have asked me to just jerk them off… but I still can’t remember the first time a guy did me like that; it’s not really bothering me but it is bothering me because one would think I’d remember it… but it is what it is and with the way my luck tends to run, I’ll finish this, move onto something else, and then I’ll remember that first time and who did it, where it was done, the whole nine yards.  I might even be able to figure out why I woke up with this on my mind…

 

The Next Thing

I’m taking a break from playing Borderlands 2 – downloading a new game – and cranked up WordPress to check on things… and saw this in the Top Searches:  Male masturbation.

First thought was, “What guy doesn’t know about this?”  Next thought was, “Well, maybe the searcher is a woman who might be wondering why her guy is spending time spanking the monkey?”

Ya know, I really need to not pay attention to the Top Searches thing…

Anyway – and since I did see it – my thoughts drift back to my youth and hearing all the crazy bullshit about growing hair on your palms, going blind, that it’ll make you retarded – just insane shit that came from who knows where.  I recall there was a lot of shame attached to pulling your pud and since it was grown-ups laying this crap on us, a lot of us – myself included – got caught up in a conundrum of sorts:  It’s right there, standing up and begging for attention… but, damn, why am I feeling so bad about this?

Huh… having those thoughts in my head didn’t make me not do it but for a while, shit, there was always that icky feeling afterwards, you know, like you just did something you had no business doing and maybe even wishing that you hadn’t because the guilt over pleasuring yourself was just so overwhelming.  I recall a bunch of us were in our ‘clubhouse’ and whipped out our junk and started going for what we knew; those of us who could bust that nut did (and happily so) but one kid was so upset after getting his shit off that he threw up.

I remember him saying, “It’s no big deal – I always throw up after I do that…”

Guilt can be a real motherfucker, huh?  Of course, you eventually get from under all the imposed stigma; if you’re curious about such things, you even learn that it was once considered a form of mental illness!  You read further and learn some of the sadistic things they used to do trying to cure people from this horrid disease; I know it totally freaked me out they did shit like electroshock therapy to stop young boys from wanking off.

Later, you learn that not only is jerking yourself off a perfectly natural thing to do, it’s actually kinda healthy and, oh, yeah, they took masturbation off the official mental illness list in – get this – 1974 (or thereabout).  Still, try to get a guy to admit that he choked the chicken… then stand back and watch the show as he tries to categorically deny ever touching himself ‘down there’ for any reason.  All it really does is confirm that when it comes to pleasing one’s self in this fashion, we were still quite prudish and puritanical about it; you were not to do it, better not even think about doing it, don’t even admit or confess to doing something that one can almost easily assume that you’re doing anyway.

In my mind, there’s only one real reason to have fun with your junk:  It feels good.  I’ve said in the past that some folks I know actually have ‘reasons’ why they don’t do it, like, that’s what boyfriends/girlfriends are for, the thought here that if you’re actively having sex with someone, masturbating isn’t something you need to do.  I’ve heard of people doing it and, for various reasons, wind up being more frustrated than gratified, making them reluctant to do it at all (even though some still give it a shot).

I say that if you don’t do it, maybe you should and even if you have someone who’s willing to do it for you – there just ain’t nothing like doing it yourself!