Learning the Lifestyle Pt 13 The Party Pt 1
- 1 year ago
- 27
- 0
Learning How free porn video
"Self abuse is shameful and a mortal sin," the fat priest stated with a tone of derision in his high pitched, nasal voice. "It is a practice you boys must always reject, and the degree of your resistance is a true measure of your character. Jesus did not masturbate."
"Father Joe is talking about whacking off!" Ernie Schultz whispered with choked glee to us guys in the back row of the class room. Elsewhere I heard more than one outburst of suppressed tittering.
"So you find this amusing, do you?" the overfed cleric stormed in outrage, his tight facial skin becoming livid, the crack of his ruler on the desk bringing us to order.
"There are also dire physiological consequences of such disgusting behavior," the Jesuit almost yelled, "not the least of which is the loss of mental capacity with every discharge. You could wind up going to Hell a mindless idiot!"
I caught a glance of Jimmy Saunders, who sat ahead of me and to my right, a prissy teacher's pet who always put on airs. His face was pale with fear. His lips quivered and his body seemed to tremble. So he's done it! I chortled inwardly, delighted at his discomfort.
I, of course, was still pure and free of sin as we began the new school year in the seventh grade at St. Ignatius. It seemed that almost everybody had returned from summer vacation with a new sexual awareness, myself included, although my knowledge of the subject did not yet involve physical experience. I understood well enough what so many other guys were suggesting with their oblique comments, but my little cock had not yet conquered me.
After gym on that first day of classes I noticed that many of the guys in the showers were inclined to face toward the wall, to hold their hands in front of themselves and otherwise seek to avoid displaying their pricks. But not so Craig Jumblat, who was larger than the rest of us. He even had hair above his cock!
"This is how you do it," he proclaimed, assuming the role of a leader. "You need soap."
His hard cock jutted forth at least five inches, and I looked on in amazement as his grasping hand slipped up and down the shaft, the shower water pelting him from behind.
"Oh, yes, oh, yes!" he exclaimed in excitement, and then he squirted onto the wet floor.
"That's disgusting," someone said, but most of us, especially those who had not yet done it, were absolutely fascinated by the demonstration.
After school that day I walked home thinking about Craig's performance. It was naughty, whacking off, and sinful, so I concluded that it must be fun, that it was something I must try.
When I got to the house Mom was just getting into the car to go shopping. "You need to clean up your room Tommy," she shouted to me from the car as she backed down the driveway, but I had other plans.
The house was empty except for my dog, Tippy, to which I snuggled and petted in the kitchen. He followed me upstairs to my room, but I closed the door on him. He whined outside for a while. I had something to do, and I wanted complete privacy. Who knows what a dog might think? I stripped naked and then lay upon my bed with my head cuddled to the pillow. My cock had occasionally become hard in the recent past, but this time I had to coax it with my fingers. It felt so naughty.
"I don't need soap," I said to myself hopefully.
A tingling frightened me. My cock came alive in a way I could not control. "I don't need soap!" I declared positively. I had to continue, I just had to, and I desperately pumped it with my fingers. Then it happened with a stinging delight, and white stuff oozed out after a startling spurt that landed on my thigh.
We piled into the car for the long drive to Lake Michigan, to close the cottage for the season. It was Labor Day weekend. I sat in the back with Lisa, my sister, seven years old, who snuggled a stuffed animal to her face. I could endure the excruciating tedium of the trip because I so much wanted to play in the waves of that inland sea. We arrived after five hours of utter boredom, unrelieved by the sight of even a single car wreck.
I always associated our trips to the lake, to our cottage, with the aroma of rubber, perhaps because of the two enormous inner tubs we kept in the shed. We would retrieve and roll them down to the shore almost as soon as we arrived. That weekend Lisa and I were in the water even before Dad unpacked the car. She stayed near the shore, but I swam out past a deep spot to a sandbar where I could stand upright with the water reaching just to my upper chest. The waves that day were not too large, but still they persistently pushed at me from behind as I faced the shore, almost lifting my feet from the sand below. No one on the strand could tell what I was doing out there. No one could know that I had pulled down my swim trunks and was jacking off in the water. I had become an addict, I acknowledged ruefully to myself. I was doing it two and three times a day.
Later, after supper and not long before dusk I retrieved the inner tubs from the beach and then went for a stroll. It was still warm, even near the water, and I was clad just in my swim trunks. I trudged up a tall dune intending to watch the sunset from that height. At the top of it I found a slight depression in which I discovered a girl slightly older than I. She lay with her eyes closed on a large beach towel clad just in her bikini top. Her left hand clutched her thigh while she diddled her slightly hairy crack with the fingers of the other. I immediately fell to the sand to watch the amazing sight, but I must have made a noise because her eyes fluttered open and she saw me crouching not twenty feet from her.
"Go away!" she screamed and rolled onto her belly, her head turned away.
I didn't move. I gazed at her perky butt and her lovely, slender legs. I had never before seen so much of a female.
"I'm still here," I taunted.
She moved her head to look at me.
"Oh, you're just a kid," she finally said in a tone of relief. Her words annoyed me. I resented the fact that I was a pretty boy who looked younger than my twelve years.
"What were you doing?" I asked, although I had a clue.
"Sunbathing," she replied with a sneer.
"The sun's almost down," I remarked.
"I didn't want to get burned," she answered.
I stood but did not move to leave. I ogled her shamelessly. My cock was hard and pushed at my trunks. She seemed to smirk and then rolled onto her back.
"Have you ever seen a girl before?" she asked with insincere sweetness.
"Not a naked one," I responded in a quivering voice, my eyes riveted to her half developed groin.
"I'm not entirely naked yet," she replied and rose to a sitting position.
She reached behind her and suddenly her bra fell off to reveal two dainty breasts standing high on her chest. She had golden hair and was almost pretty, but my attention focused on her roseate nipples. I stood there dumbly.
"Now I'm naked," she said and leaned back on her arms to give me a full view of her.
Her pubic bush was not fully grown; it did not cover her labia. I couldn't move from the spot, neither toward her nor away. I had never before seen such an arousing sight.
"It's your turn now," the girl announced as though we had made some kind of contract.
I hesitated in confusion, not wanting to display my cock, which was so shamelessly erect.
"Show it to me," she nagged. "I've never seen one before except on a baby."
She got to her knees and extended an arm to me, inviting me to join her in the privacy of that small depression. I stumbled toward her almost in a daze, stopped and pulled down my trunks just a few feet from her.
Eisley
- 24.12.2022
- 19
- 0
Learning the Lifestyle Pt 13 The Party Pt 1
- 3 years ago
- 23
- 0
Learning By Experience
- 3 years ago
- 27
- 0
