The magnitude of guilt gay/masturbation

By Harry Broom

Published on Apr 21, 2024

Gay

This is fiction and for adults. Don't read it if it is illegal to read it where you live. Please donate to Nifty to keep the stories coming.

The Magnitude of Guilt 2

I received many emails from guys who enjoyed the first story because they identified with the issues raised. Remember that this is fiction and so the stories have to be read with that in mind. Here I build on the ideas in the story called A Karoo Christmas Discovery.

I am Joel Sher from Wepener a small town in the Free State. I am Jewish and the only son of the last of the Jewish families living in that part of the country. My father is a farmer and a GP in the town. I am now about 5' 8" and have brown curly hair, I wear spectacles. I attended boarding school in Bloemfontein and was a top achiever in the province and now am set to study medicine in Cape Town. But that's not where I want to start, so let me take you back to when I was still in primary/elementary school.

I grew up with Pieter. He was two years ahead of me at school and the son of the local Dutch Reformed Minister. It is very unlikely that I would have even met Pieter if I had grown up in a big city with a strong Jewish community. He was blond, very athletic, and much taller especially after his growth spurt when he turned twelve. His face was freckled and he had a wide friendly smile. He loved a good joke and we enjoyed telling jokes when we got together. I was always attracted to him and didn't think of myself as gay.

Pieter showed me how to masturbate. I was just about to turn eleven, he was thirteen and we were in the barn on our farm. It was summer and the temperatures skyrocketed in the Free State. Our shirts were off and we only wore shorts. We were wrestling on an old double bed mattress that my mother stored in the barn for when we got guests.

We were out of breath, and Pieter was sitting on top of me pinning my arms above my head. I hoped that he hadn't noticed that I had a hard-on. But I saw his dick tenting in his shorts. I half-heartedly tried to wriggle free but he was too heavy and I was too tired. Pieter must have seen me eyeing his goods, and he rolled off me and lay next to me on the mattress. He slipped his hand into my shorts and without warning grabbed hold of my erect dick. I let out a little yelp with the sensation, as he guided my hand to his dick. I never anticipated any of this and I tightened my small fist around his dick and slowly moved up and down as he was doing to me. It felt incredible. We pulled off our shorts and undies and we we both naked. I had just started to get pubic hair, but Pieter already had a dense little bush above his dick. I loved his muscular body and admired his dick which was flat against his stomach. Pieter's was the first uncut dick I had seen.

Pieter continued to wank me and told me this was called "draadtrek" (masturbation). It felt good and he told me to keep doing it to him too. After a while my body began to tremble, my balls tightened, and I got an incredibly warm feeling (my first dry orgasm). Something I had never experienced in my life. I noticed that Pieter's dick stiffened and that his body jerked a little. He said "Ek kom' (I'm coming) and he shot cum onto his stomach. Apart from seeing animals mating on the farm, I had been given no sex education. Pieter explained what had just happened and that he had ejaculated semen. He licked some and told me to taste, which I reluctantly did. I had mixed feelings. I felt guilty and thought it was somehow wrong., but on the other hand, I also thought it was incredible (This was the first of many encounters between Pieter and me).

The next day Pieter was on our farm again. We were in my room playing a computer game when he asked me if I wanted to go to the barn. I understood the code immediately, and we ran laughingly to the barn and put the double mattress down. My dick was hard in anticipation, and I saw he was hard too when he pulled his pants down. I did get a good look at Pieter's dick before when we had innocently compared them a few months ago. His was bigger than mine and he had a foreskin. I was circumcised and he laughed at the time. and said my dick was "kaalgat" (naked).

We lay on our backs and he told me that we can masturbate ourselves and that we don't need each other, just like he was showing me, and I tried it. But it felt much nicer when Pieter did it to me. So, we lay on our backs masturbating each other. I got the same warm intense feeling I experienced the previous day, and my dick jerked a few times. Pieter's dick stiffened and his body trembled, and he shot a few of blobs of cum onto his stomach. He ran his fingers through it and linked some off. He brought his hand to my mouth and I tasted this sweet-salty stuff again.

I had a recurring problem with my conscience that played out in the incredible feeling of guilt that came over me after masturbating. I lived with this guilt throughout my teen years. Even though my dad was a medical doctor, and I'm sure that he must have frequently dispensed sexual advice, he never gave me any. This cloak-and-dagger approach to sex education made sense to me when I read a story on Nifty.

"Many years ago, my dad asked the rabbi he was close with whether he had discussed wet dreams with his son when he experienced puberty. He said, Not yet.' When he asked again a few years later, after his son had physically matured, he said, No, it just never came up.` Giving a boy zero information about why his sheets are sometimes sticky is a recipe for confusion, shame, and guilt. How can it be right to keep truths about human biology a secret from young boys just because we feel uncomfortable?

My dad said that maintaining secrecy must lead boys to think that these challenges only affect a few people, but that wasn't true. The solution my dad gave me was to overcome the urges through willpower."

David went on to explain: "It was sometime after my bar mitzvah when I attended a question-and-answer session where a rabbi was asked how and when, if at all, a Jewish father should talk to his sons about wet dreams and masturbation.

Before he could even answer a person interrupted him: `There are children here!" The youngest boy in the room was two months shy of his bar mitzvah and I couldn't think of no one else who needed this information more urgently than a 12-year-old boy. Then, in rabbinical style, the rabbi said he didn't know and would probably ask his rabbi when his children grew older."

Pieter and I only saw each other in school holidays during high school. He was at an Afrikaans boys' high school and I was at an English one. One of us would say "Should we go to the barn?" By then I was shooting cum and our repertoire had widened (excuse the pun). We knew that we had to be discreet, I once said to Pieter:

"Imagine if the "Gemeente" (Congregation) found out that you were having oral sex with the "Joodse seun" (the Jewish boy)?

We were lying on the mattress in the barn, and he laughed and said that it would be tickets.

Next: Chapter 3


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