WARNING: This factual account includes explicit details of sexual activity between teenage males. If any readers are minors, resident in a jurisdiction where such material is illegal or are likely to be offended by it, they should leave this site at once.
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SPECIAL CARE FOR AN INJURED FRIEND AND OTHER MEMORIES OF MASTURBATION
Robert J Thomson writes:
Peter was my classmate and playmate all the time we were in Primary School and the same when it was time for Secondary School when we reached 11. He lived only a short bus ride from me, so the two of us used to see a lot of each other at weekends and in school hols, going places on our bikes, often going swimming in the indoor water centre when the weather was no good and at the outdoor pool in summer, and just hanging about together, all the usual boy stuff.
When both of us were 16, he was in a bad car accident. Except it being just through speeding and Jack losing control of the car, there was no reason for it happening. Pete's older brother was driving, just over two years older than him and me. His name was John, always called Jack, and he was meaning to join the army. Anyway, one early evening in good weather, Jack somehow drove off the road into some small trees, with the car ending up on its side where Pete was sitting.
It was nothing less than good luck that a police car came that way only something like 5 minutes after it happened, so they got Pete and his brother out and an ambulance was there very soon after. Pete was taken to one hospital and Jack taken to another because their injuries were different. It was their dad who phoned to tell me that Pete was in hospital because he knew that we were very close friends, and of course I was real worried, wanting to go to the hospital to see him, but it was over a week later before I managed to get there.
He was in a side ward by himself, with a window and a big wash-basin. Pete had broken one leg, and on top of that he'd done something to one ankle and both his wrists. His broken leg was in plaster all the way from just above the ankle to close to his knee and it was up on a frame. His other ankle and both wrists were tightly bandaged. All he had on was one these hospital gowns, the kind that tie up at the back. When I arrived, the nurse who was mostly looking after him was just finished giving Pete a wash. His name was Gordon, black, quite young, a big strong-looking guy. After he'd gone, I sat down on the chair close to Pete's bed and wanted to know what he remembered.
He said how there was like a big bang. Next thing, he was in the ambulance without Jack, and when they got him into the hospital he was still a bit out of it. He remembered lying there with doctors shining a light into his eyes and asking him if he knew where he was. Someone was cutting all his clothes off, leaving just his boxers on and a sheet being put over him, and when they took him for a scan, they even took the boxers off him and got him into a hospital gown like he had on there in bed. He must have been given something to knock him out while they plastered his broken leg and put all the other bandages on, because he just woke up in that bed. He wasn't happy having to pee into a bottle and have a bed-pan for the other, but he liked Gordon and had got used to being washed by him. When he was getting washed round his balls and that, he said he more often than not couldn't help getting a bit of a stiffy, but Gordon never paid any attention or said anything about it.
I was sitting there on the chair close to where Pete was lying. At 16 neither of us needed to shave any more than once in over a week, but sitting there I could see the gingery hairs on Pete's chin, and just a little on the sides of his face and I was kidding him about it. He said Gordon had promised to give his face a going over with the electric shaver his dad & mum had brought when they left some clean clothes and other things, all in his bedside locker. After I was there for more than an hour, I was getting ready to go and stood up. Pete suddenly asked me if I would do something for him, so I said, "Sure, anything you want."
For a moment, he didn't say anything, just lay there looking at me. Then he told me. Know what it was? He wanted me to give him a wank, that's what! I sat down again on that chair close to Pete's bed.
He wasn't joking about the wank. I knew how he must be feeling. He said he'd not had a chance to do it for a couple of days before the accident, and he'd been in hospital like that for 8 days. I told him I wasn't really happy with the idea. For one thing, what if Gordon or another nurse came in? Pete was sure no one would come in. Gordon and the other nurses were busy with other patients, and anyway, the way he was feeling, it wouldn't take long, and he promised me he wouldn't make a lot of noise, no loud groans or anything, no matter how good it felt.
Well, Pete was far and away my closest buddy, and I didn't want to refuse to do it for him. Goes without saying that both of us had been into wanking since we were 14, and we'd done it together plenty of times. What I mean to say is right from being too young to cum, except for the little squirts of watery stuff that boys produce as first efforts, and all the later times when both of us eagerly watched the real semen bursting out of our rigid cocks, great spurts of thick white stuff, and the shuddering orgasms shaking our whole bodies, leaving us dry-mouthed, out of breath, hearts pounding. But while we'd touched each other, and watched each other cumming, we'd never wanked each other right off, and I'd never even touched any other lad's cock except his. All that was going through my head, understand?
I knew I just had to do it for him. First off, I carefully pulled his gown as close up to the top of his chest as I could, expecting that there would be a proper mess. That was when I saw Pete's bruised ribs. When I put one hand under his balls, stroking them, his cock stiffened at once, even before I even touched it. Both of us still have our foreskins. As Pete's cock stiffened and grew, his skin peeled back all by itself, and the swollen pointed purply-red head of his cock emerged.
Kneeling up on the chair to get real close, I kept my left hand under his balls and began wanking him with my right. At over 6" when it was really stiff, and quite thick, I could close my fingers round it, and kept doing that, moving his skin all the way up & down again, not fast, just steady like he wanted me to do it. Pete was keeping his promise: no noise, just heavy breathing and giving tiny gasps, no more than that. I'd been wanking him steadily for less than 10 minutes when I felt his balls tighten, always a sure sign that the point of no return is dangerously close.
A few drops of that clear pre-cum oozed out, lubricating under Pete's foreskin, and I felt his cock go even stiffer in my fingers, the way it does that instant before it starts jerking and kicking like on its own as the hard ridge of muscle under the balls begins pumping. Except for his breathing and little gasps, Pete had controlled himself well until that moment. He went "Aah! Mmm! Now!" and the first spurt of semen shot out, not far, only just above where his hairs were, but as his cock jerked in my hand, the next three, four, maybe five big strong spurts came shooting out in rapid succession, going all the way to the top of Pete's chest and just missing the gown which I'd pulled as far up as I could.
It's strange, same happens with me too, the first little squirt of semen usually doesn't go far, and then the next spurts come bursting out everywhere. Pete was lying there with his eyes closed, blowing quietly through his lips, his cock giving little twitches as the last few drops of semen oozed out. Knowing how sensitive my own cock feels at that stage, I squeezed his very gently and drew his skin forward to cover the top. His balls had gone right up the sides of his cock at the orgasm, and were back down where they usually were, close underneath.
Looking at the sticky white mess all over Pete's chest and belly, I could hardly believe so much had come out of him, so he must have been really needing that wank. He had opened his eyes, grinning happily at me, and looking down at the mess all over him. I had to get him cleaned up before it started to trickle off him onto the bed. It took a big pile of tissues, completely soaked, and with that weird smell that semen has. Dumping them quickly in the waste bin, I got some warm water from the wash-basin and one of Pete's face-cloths, going all over his chest & belly and where a little had run into the hairs above his cock. Then I dried him off very carefully with a towel.
I'd only just pulled Pete's gown back down and covered him with the sheet when Gordon the nurse came in. He said Pete was getting better every day, and that my visit had obviously done a lot to cheer him up. You could say that again!
While I was wanking him there in the hospital, I could feel my own cock going hard. It was poking out through the front of my boxers, rubbing up against my jeans, very uncomfortable. But I couldn't do anything about it because I needed both hands for him and I didn't dare stop in case Gordon or another nurse came in. It went down as soon as I got off the chair to get tissues and then the warm water to clean Pete up.
When I got back home after that and took my clothes off to have a shower, the head of my cock was quite red once I pulled the skin back, suppose it was just from where it was rubbing against my jeans. Another thing, when I looked at the boxers I had on, I found some damp sticky patches of that pre-cum. Once under the shower and when I had finished washing it carefully, my cock felt OK. I washed the boxers out in there and they soon dried on the bathroom radiator.
Pete was out of hospital two weeks later and sent me a card. It said 'Thanks for everything, won't ever forget your help'. It took something like another three weeks or more before the leg he broke was near enough back to normal. When I went to his house to see him, he came to the door in trainers and a pair of shorts on, that soft grey kind, Mizumo or something. We went up to his bedroom. He told me that the doctors said he had to get as much fresh air on that leg as possible. The hospital had given him a big tube of some special kind of ointment for it. It even had his name on the label. He took his shorts off and stood there while I sat on the bed and rubbed his leg with the cream. When they were putting the plaster on that leg, they must have shaved the hair off it and also up the back of his thigh, so the hairs were growing back in, very short and uncomfortable. I finished doing that and went to wash my hands.
After that time when I gave him the wank in hospital, it was like something had changed in how we behaved to each other, always very good friends before that, but sort of even closer, without either of us ever saying anything about it. When I came back from washing my hands, Pete was sitting on the bed. Pulling me close, he undid my jeans, letting them fall down round my ankles, grabbing hold of my boxers and doing the same to them. When he took hold of my cock, it was real stiff almost at once, but instead of wanking me, he took it into his mouth and started sucking it all the way up & down. I'd never had that before. It felt amazing. All I wanted was for him to go on doing it.
He had his hands round my backside, like he was trying to get more of my cock into his mouth, and sometimes putting a hand under my balls. Being sucked like that, I could feel myself getting close to coming off after only five minutes of it and I had my hands on his head. When it hit me, Pete kept on sucking, so the whole lot went into his mouth. He swallowed & swallowed, sucking until I was done, grinning up at me. As usual, I was out of breath and shaking a bit after all that, and had to sit down on the bed with him for a few minutes just as I was, jeans & boxers still round my ankles, with Pete going on about how fast I'd lost it.
He told me he'd never sucked any cock before mine and I'm sure he hadn't. I got my clothes back up and we went down to have a drink of something. My mouth was dry, and I suppose Pete's was the same. All he said to his mum was how I'd rubbed the cream on his leg for him.
The two of us got together again soon after. It was at my place one warm Sunday afternoon when my mum & dad were going to be away all day visiting friends. I put on some old shorts and found some swim shorts for Pete. By then, his leg was fine and he could play just the same as anyone. Stripped to the waist we played basketball in our yard for about an hour, getting really sweaty and needing a shower. In there, we washed each other all over, taking plenty of time. Of course doing that got both us really hard. Once we were dried off, we went to my bedroom naked as were were. In that car accident, besides his broken leg, Pete had done something to his wrists. They weren't broken, just sprained and that's why he had both of them bandaged when I went to see him in hospital.
Anyhow, there was nothing wrong with them then, that's for sure. When we got into the bedroom after showering, he said he was going to do me another good turn, like thanking me for what I did for him in hospital. Sitting on the bed close to me, he got down to wanking me. He was doing it really slowly, one hand stroking my balls. It felt very good. But when I was well into it, he stopped, putting one hand flat against my belly, and still feeling my balls, sitting there watching my face. He started wanking me again after a couple of minutes. I was lying there mostly with my eyes closed, enjoying his hand on my cock, so I had no idea of the time. He did exactly the same thing to me, maybe 3 or 4 times, stopping wanking me for a couple of minutes, and then going on with it again. My balls were going tighter and tighter with all this, and it got to the point that I was begging him not to stop again, and when I put a hand to my balls a moment before it all happened, they'd gone all the way up the sides of my cock, just two big lumps there.
That feeling crept up on me, followed by an orgasm shaking my whole body. I don't know how many big spurts of semen shot all the way up my chest to just under my chin, with Pete going on doing it until I made him stop. He was sitting there grinning, some of mine all over his fingers, licking it off them. I needed several minutes just lying there getting my breath back, while Pete got hold of a pile of tissues to clean me up. "Know how long you lasted?" I had no idea. "It was all of 30 minutes, promise." I wanted to know how he'd learned to do that. He said that he just found out for himself. I set to and wanked him off right after that. He was in such a state that it took me under 10 minutes to bring him right off. For me, it was certainly the best wank I can remember, all that semen, and I'd done it for myself only the day before and there had been quite a lot. Seems we were both just full of it.
Pete came to mine again another Sunday not long after when I had the house to myself until I knew my parents would be back around 7. That time we also played basketball for something like an hour. Going for a shower when we'd finished playing, that led on to us lying down together naked on my bed. After a bit of just playing around, that was the first time we ever did 69. I still don't think we meant it to go as far as it did, just that it felt so good that we couldn't stop and both of us came off at exactly the same moment, swallowing each other's semen. Of course I'd tasted my own a couple of times. Who doesn't? Pete's tasted just the same as mine, warm and salty. We lay on the bed together for a while, got our clothes on and went down to our kitchen, sitting there drinking Cokes to get rid of the taste of semen, laughing about what we'd done.
I put on a long video about mountain biking and we were still watching it when my dad & mum came home. They hadn't seen Pete since he came out of hospital, so they wanted to know how he was and all that. When my dad asked how we'd spent the day, Pete said, "Oh, just played basketball and talked a lot of nonsense" and gave me a dig in the ribs which they didn't see. My mum said something about she could tell the two of us were happy to see each other again. If she only knew! She insisted on him staying for some food with us, and when it was time for Pete to get home, I walked with him to the bus stop and waited there until it came.
Remembering all this and getting it down in writing over 4 years later, maybe seems like disgusting behaviour for two 16-year-old boys, but it was a lot of fun at the time. Besides, we were so excited about wanking that we didn't care what we were doing, the only word for us is horny, fascinated with what we had between our legs, same as near enough every boy is at that age. We never did it with anyone else. From about 12 onwards, when I got into bed, I would fall asleep with both hands on my cock, lying there feeling my balls and hoping they would get bigger. When I woke up in the morning, it was always with a stiffy, running into the bathroom for a pee with hands over the bulge in my boxers, scared in case my mum or dad saw it.
As it turned out, I needn't have worried. Around when I was something like 14, after I had wanked myself several times and the real semen had come, I'd just got out of the shower and was standing there drying myself, with my cock quite stiff, when my dad came into the bathroom. I pulled the towel round my waist, but it was sticking way out. He just looked at me and said, "Come on, son, lose the towel", so I took it off, my cock still hard. He said to me not to worry when I got stiff like that, all perfectly natural. Bending down, he had a good look at my cock and felt my balls with both hands, saying there was nothing wrong with me there. That was all he said.
Looking back on it, Dad must have known that I was wanking by that stage, with a little fuzz of hair just above my cock, and my balls definitely bigger than they were only a few months before then, but he never let on or told me not to do it. That was probably because he knew that it would be a waste of time telling me not to do it, a sure way of making boys do just the opposite. Proof of that was another boy in my class, very serious kind of lad, another Peter, hardly ever joining in when the rest of us were going on about wanking.
But when we were all getting stripped off for PE, everyone could see that he had a good-sized cock, balls hanging down, with quite a lot of curly hair there. After a while he told two of us how his dad had given him a talk about what was going on with growing up, and he had warned him not to start masturbating, and keep his hands off his penis. If his dad hadn't mentioned it at all, this Peter would probably never have thought much about wanting to do it, but he did get started and was quite proud of how big his cock was. Once when we were all in the showers after playing football, he even showed three of us how big it was when he made it really hard, and he wanked himself right off while we watched, shooting out several big spurts of spunk and washing it away in the shower.
Only about six weeks after that time when my dad spoke to me in the bathroom, I had my first wet dream, waking up in the night with that feeling when it comes, and a big mess there, all over the boxers I had on in bed, and on my fingers when I put my hands down to try to stop it, useless once it starts to come. I must have fallen asleep again, because when morning came my boxers were sticking to me, and some of it had stained the cover of the duvet I was under. I went straight under the shower to get cleaned up ready for school, and when I went downstairs I got my dad by himself and told him what happened. He came up to my bedroom right away, seeing my messed-up boxers and the stained duvet cover. By the time I got home from school, these boxers had been washed without a mark on them, and my duvet had a clean cover on.
I remember now telling Pete all about my wet dream. The same had happened to him, except that the mess had been even worse because he'd been sleeping naked, so all his stuff had gone on his duvet cover and when he woke up in the morning the cover was stuck to his belly. His brother Jack had made a big joke of it, like congratulating him, but he'd helped him to get himself cleaned up and showered and dressed ready for school, and he thought it was Jack who took the cover off his duvet and got it into the washing-machine along with some of his own things.
Later, Jack had sat Pete down and warned him not to get into bed naked, better to put something on, like an old pair of boxers, so if the same thing happened again, which Jack reckoned it would, all that would happen is that the boxers would catch the mess, and they could be easily washed out or even thrown quickly away in a street litter-bin or somewhere like that if they were really badly messed up. He told Pete he didn't mind if he was into wanking, it was something that boys did, harmless, and a lot of fun, but he should try not to overdo it, never do it in bed, and regular wanking would reduce risk of wet dreams.
Pete said to me it was the best advice he ever had. Like the rest of us, as soon as it started working right, I mean the spunk coming shooting out, it was like we couldn't do it fast enough to get to the end and have that great feeling, all over inside 10 minutes. After a few months like that, we found out two good ways of making things a lot better.
If we didn't do it so often, it felt much better when we did it. Also, doing it slowly, and stopping at the very first sign of any tight feeling in belly or balls, taking hands right off it, and drawing a few deep breaths, then starting wanking again and repeating the whole process over & over several times until it became impossible to stop, that way both of us could often keep at it like that for well over half an hour and sometimes even longer. When it finally came out, it felt marvellous, no other word for it. The semen would spray everywhere, leaving us with dry mouths, gasping for breath, with hearts going like a hammer.
I'm sure my experience of masturbation, and Pete's the same, was no different from countless boys everywhere, although for the near four years or so that we were really into it in a big way, we never thought about that, and all the semen we must have wasted.
(End)