Robert Thomson writes:
For continued access to Nifty stories, remember to donate at https://donate.nifty.org.html
As before, this includes elaborate details of masturbation practices of a 16-year-old male. Anyone likely to be offended by such material should quit this website at once.
DANGEROUS VEGETABLES --- 2
Having read my account of the accident with the carrot, several Nifty readers got in touch, asking questions. Responding to these, I'll do my best to provide answers in the interests of clarity.
The first question was this one. Why didn't I think to use a carrot still with its leaves on top? That would have let me keep hold of the leaves even in the throes of an orgasm. The answer's easy. In the nearby supermarket where I bought the carrots, they were all ready-washed & trimmed. Likewise, another reader asked how I could be sure of finding a big enough carrot. There were always bigger carrots left in the box because other shoppers would choose the smaller ones.
Maybe I missed saying that after trying and giving up on the painful plastic Coca-Cola bottle, I didn't go ahead with huge carrots right away. I started with them about 4 to 5 inches long before progressing to the biggest & thickest ones I could find. By the time I had the accident, the carrot I was using that evening was all of 10 inches long, thick, and the same thickness all its length except for the pointed top on it. Because I was very tight there, I was never able to get a carrot inside before smearing some KY lube on it.
That was from doing a lot of swimming ever since I was around 14, and later belonging to a water-polo team, still in the same team when I had the accident. Once I moved on to the bigger carrots, I would always give them a good wash right away and dry them, cutting a groove all round the thick end. That let me keep a grip on it with my fingers of both hands as I pushed it in, usually lying on an old bath-towel on my back on the bathroom floor with my knees up. Just thinking about what I was going to do had my cock quite hard even before I had all my clothes off. I was careful to wipe the KY off my hands on the old towel.
In my own little flat, I could be sure of not being disturbed so I wasn't in any hurry, enjoying the mixture of pain and pleasure the carrot gave me, with my cock getting harder as I went on, never needing to touch it. I have plenty of foreskin. When my cock was soft, the skin covered the top and more, but when I got hard, it would peel right back all by itself. There on my back, my stiff cock lay against my stomach, its end just past my belly-button. More often than not, drops of clear pre-cum leaked out as I worked the carrot in.
Usually, it took around 15 minutes before things started to happen, my balls tightening, then that jerking & swelling of my cock, spurt after spurt landing far up on my chest, then the last smaller spurts in the hair round my cock. I think the longest I ever managed was 30 minutes, ending in three or four tremendous spurts, the second one hitting me in the face. Like I said, I never had to touch my cock. When my orgasm started, I kept the carrot as far in as possible, able to feel my spasms gripping it. I wouldn't take it out until it was all over for me, lying there until I got my breath back, wiping some of the mess off me with lav paper before having a long hot shower to clean myself properly, looking forward to soft drinks because I was always very thirsty afterwards.
I didn't waste any of the carrots. After giving them another good wash, I usually cut them up to make soup, or ate them with some other food.
Being strong enough, I sometimes leant back with my feet out, working the carrot in, balancing while I did it. I'd done it that way a few times before I lost my balance, falling on the carrot when I was overtaken by a powerful orgasm sooner than expected, losing the carrot up inside me, a bad experience. I told about what had happened afterwards in my first story called Dangerous Vegetables.
When I was doing it with carrots, lying on my back with my knees up, I could raise my head to watch what I was doing to myself by putting a shaving-mirror on a stand in the right position. I had the shaving mirror not because I had a hairy face. At 16, I had only to use my good electric razor on my upper lip maybe once or twice a month.
Another good reason for having the electric razor was because of swimming, especially playing water-polo. I had quite a bit of curly hair above my cock, but none on my balls. However, I had some hair right down under my balls, between my legs and a little on the back of my legs just past my ass. The shaving-mirror let me see to take off the hair. Everyone in our water-polo side did the same. I knew that some team-mates did it for each other.
Our team was lucky enough to be sponsored by a local sports shop. Its owner provided us with swimmers, tiny things, as small as Speedos. They were red, with the sports shop logo very small on one side. They just covered everything and no more. That was why we all shaved down under so that no hair showed. Our coach was only in his early 20s and it was him who told us to see that we shaved there when he started coaching our team. It was something of a standing joke in the team about whose bulge was the biggest.
After playing in water-polo matches with our cocks tucked down over our balls, it was nothing short of a big relief to get these swimmers off when we all went for a shower after a match. (End)