My first Orgasm(s).

1956
The game I most enjoyed with Johnny and the one Johnny most enjoyed with me (as evidenced by his apparent obsession with it) was "doctor" -- that is until my enjoyment of the game was considerably tempered by the guilt my Mother's discovery and reaction foisted upon me. . . .

The penis was not the be-all and end-all of "doctor," but it was the ultimate objective. This organ and its immediate vicinity were so much more sensitive than other parts of the anatomy, and although it pleased me to be touched wherever as I lay naked upon the bench in the makeshift "doctor's office," a touch upon the groin conveyed an especially intense pleasure, which was all the more pleasurable by association with a place that was not supposed to be seen in public or touched by another. Yet it never occurred either to me or to Johnny, nor did we ever discover in our play, that sustained fondling of an erect penis, while diminishing momentarily the sensations of the organ itself, would eventually transfer to the whole body, many times over, the pleasures of the initial touch.

I discovered orgasm . . . in the foothills of my adolescence, when Johnny was no longer a friend.

I [had] lost Johnny's friendship. . . . Perhaps one of us simply outgrew the other. In any event, I soon hooked up with Kenny, who lived ... just down the street. . . .

Kenny was a friend of convenience, a playmate with whom I could pass time when I had nothing better to do. A sustained friendship was not in the offing: apart from having a bicycle, the same teacher, balls, and an appreciation for a good game of "cops and robbers," I had nothing in common with Kenny. Besides, Kenny preferred to pal around with Jim.

Jim was my age and grade. He attended my school, but always wound up with different teachers. I did not know him at all well and he knew very little about me. ...

Kenny normally would not allow me to join in his games with Jim. . . . But one sultry afternoon in August, when Jim and Kenny both wanted to be "cops," they let me play "robber." Couldn't have a good game of "cops and robbers," after all, without a robber, and a warm body in the role was much better than a pretend body. The game ended up at my house: the four-man tent in the back yard made a perfect hide-out for a would-be robber. Then, toward the end of the afternoon, one of the "cops" proposed that we camp out that night in my back yard. ...

We assembled in the tent at dusk. I had laid out one of the family's two sleeping bags. I got the second one from the basement when neither Kenny nor Jim arrived with their own bedding. Jim proposed that we zip the two bags together to make room for three. We inflated the air mattresses (a breathtaking, but arduous experience), then surrendered ourselves to raucous and rather noisy horseplay until, along about midnight, my Dad ordered us to bed down. Something about disturbing the neighbors. Jim shucked his shirt and jeans, and slipped into the three-man bag. Kenny and I followed his lead.

Two hours later, ... Jim climbed out of the bag and out of the tent. I followed along to see what was up. ... I found Jim off to the side, naked but for his pristine white briefs, peeing on the lawn. Jim emptied his bladder, shook off the last drop or two, and turned, tucking his tail back into the briefs, to find me watching him from the entrance of the tent.

"Bet you haven't got the guts to run all the way around the house like that," said I.

"You're on!"

Jim was back less than twenty seconds later, only a bit out of breath. "Let's see you do it," he said, "without your shorts."

There was some risk, albeit minimal at that late hour, that a passing motorist would see me in the pale light of the full moon, naked and mostly, if not fully, aroused. I weighed the risks a bit, then slipped out of my briefs, tossed them into the tent, and took off.

"Now its your turn", said I on my return. I addressed Kenny, who had come out of the tent to see what all the commotion was about.

"Let's all do it together," said Jim, as he pushed his briefs off his ass. "Come on, Kenny, get naked."

So, without a stitch, we three boys ran around the house hand in hand -- not once, but several times, giggling all the way, more daringly each time until on about the fifth circuit, which took us to the very edge of the street at a pace somewhat slower than a brisk walk, we saw a light come on suddenly in the family bathroom. We raced back to the safety of tent. I looked about a bit for my underpants, but seeing Kenny and Jim jump into the bag without theirs, I jumped in as well, naked, next to Jim.

We laid quiet in our bag for the next several minutes, feigning sleep, but expecting that someone -- my Mom or my Dad -- would appear momentarily to see what on earth was going on. I began soon to feel the warmth and occasional movement of Jim's naked hip and thigh against mine. This was a totally new experience. Though I had slept with my sister until I was four or five, and with my Grandmother when my folks went off to Canada with their friends, there was always fabric -- and distance -- between me and my bedmate. Johnny had touched every part of my naked body, but never laid down naked beside me. The one time I slept in Johnny's bed, Johnny and I both wore pajamas. Now, Jim's unencumbered flesh pressed upon mine, filling me with desires, sensitivities, and urges that I could barely understand, much less explain. My penis began to swell, and I began to worry that my Dad would come into the tent momentarily to pull away the top of the sleeping bag and find me naked with a hard-on.

Anticipation of the parental inspection eventually passed. I was just beginning to doze when I felt Jim turn onto his side, toward Kenny. I assumed that Jim was only trying to find a more comfortable position in his niche between the mattresses. But then I heard the zip of a zipper and felt a tugging at the cover. My bedmate's ass began moving rhythmically, but ever so slightly against my thigh. I found the flashlight I had stowed so carefully at the head of the sleeping bag. ... I turned it on. Kenny still had his feet under the cover, but not much else. He had a hard-on, which Jim had enveloped in the fingers of his right hand. I watched, transfixed, as the hand moved up to and beyond the head of the engorged organ, then down to the base, again and again, until Kenny cried, "Stop! Please stop!"

Jim squirmed onto his back and kicked at the cover enough to expose his own midriff. Kenny turned onto his side and wrapped the fingers of his left hand around Jim's hard (but not especially ample) penis. Kenny did unto Jim, then, as Jim had done unto him until Jim said, "Alright, already, enough!"

"What was that all about?" I asked.

Jim stared, disbelievingly, into my eyes.

"Well?"

"Hey," said Jim, "we were just jacking off."

"Oh, okeh." I turned off the flashlight and lowered myself back onto mattress. So now you know, Jeremy, what "jacking off" is.

A minute passed. Maybe two. Jim turned onto his side again, this time facing me. He reached across my breast, found the zipper, pulled it down, and kicked back the cover. His left hand found my partially engorged penis, fingered it 'til it was hard, then pumped it, as his right hand had pumped Kenny's.

The intense pleasure of the initial touch upon the organ faded with each thrust of Jim's hand. I began to wonder why there was so much hoopla in the idea of "jacking off." Then, I felt a tightness in the small of my back. My anus puckered. My balls ached. My body shuddered. I gasped. My two hands clamped down on my groin to stop the pushing and pulling. "Oh, my God! Jesus fucking Christ!"

Jim chortled. He released his grip and pulled his hand out from under mine.

I felt my body, from head to toe, sink into the mattress. "Shit! That was something!" Then, four or five silent seconds later: "Hot damn!"

I had had my first orgasm. There was no fantasy involved, just the pure animal sensation of Jim's hand stroking my penis until it throbbed, until my whole body throbbed as the muscles at the base of my manhood pumped -- pumped nothing, but pumped nevertheless in a paroxysm of total release.

We pulled the cover back over our naked bodies and hunkered down into the bag. Jim and Kenny fell asleep straight-away. I tried to replicate the action of Jim's hand on my penis, but found the glans too sensitive just then to endure more than a stroke or two. I tried to sleep. I tossed about a bit, worrying all the time whether my movements on the air mattress would disturb my bag-mates. Eventually, counting sheep to clear my mind of its obsession with my recent experience, I fell into a fitful slumber.

After dawn, when the rays of the bright morning sun began filtering through the olive green canvas, Jim pulled me out of the sleeping bag and onto the ground. Still groggy from my sleep, I found myself on my hands and knees, legs parted. Jim knelt behind me, between my calves, then leaned forward, laying his breast upon my back. His left arm closed tightly around my chest. His right hand found my penis. He rubbed it, pulled it, and diddled it until it was hard. Then, he milked it. Kenny, still in the sleeping bag, hoisted his head, resting a cheek on the heel of his hand. He watched.

I loved the feeling of Jim's thighs pressing hard upon mine. I loved the feeling of Jim's stiff little pricklet in the cleft of my ass. More than that, Jeremy, you know you like being held. Just being held. You know you like being captive, subject to the use and abuse of another. You know you like being watched as you endure on your helplessly naked person the lewd actions of a casual acquaintance.

In the throes of my life's second orgasm, I collapsed to the ground. Kenny laughed. Jim -- caught atop me, his left arm pinned beneath my breast, his right hand, beneath my groin -- also
laughed. He squeezed the flesh in his right hand. I yelped. My haunches lurched. Jim freed himself, rolled onto his knees, and slapped each naked cheek of my ass. At that very moment, my mother called out the back door of the house: "Jeremy! Oh, Jeremy!"

"Yeah, Mom?" My voice rasped and wavered, whether from fear of discovery or the continuing influence of my orgasm or both. It also wasn't quite loud enough for my mother to hear. The screen door squeaked open, then ratcheted shut. Jim lept onto the sleeping bag and pulled the cover up around his chin; I followed close behind.

Mom poked her head through the flaps of the tent. "Why don't you all get up, now, and come in for breakfast?" ...