Guided Masturbation Stories
Excerpt from a dead man’s sexual diary, purchased at an estate sale–the late Bill W. Childhood Memories of Gert’s Stockings and Garters It is August, 1955. I am 12 and on vacation with my parents and another couple at a lake cottage in northern Wisconsin. I am in the only private place in the tiny cottage–the bathroom–jerking off with the door locked–or so I think.
My bloated young prick sticks rigidly out of my lap as I sit on the toilet, massaging my exquisitely sensitive foreskin, savoring the itchy, tingly feeling radiating through my balls. My ass twitches and squirms on the toilet seat as my newly discovered pastime causes muscles and nerves to twitch involuntarily in my crotch and legs. I stare at my hand in its vertical dance, wondering dazedly that I can give myself so much pleasure. The feeling is so good, yet at the same time somehow dirty and lewd, which makes it all the better. Continue reading