Picturing Myself as a Young Masturbator
by Fergus MacDougal
A few days ago I attended the memorial service for a family member about my own age (60’s). There were displays of photographs of him at every age, and I was in a few of them. It triggered a flood of memories of my younger self, particularly as an adolescent.
I especially pictured myself at age twelve or thirteen, slim and good looking, with kind of a smirky self confident air. I know from carefully reconstructing my sexual history that at the time I was a regular masturbator – most guys are at that age. But was my indulgence in that sort of secret activity publicly apparent? Would people looking at me back then, or a picture of me later, have imagined my secret life of compulsive masturbation?
I remember well how it was at that age. Any time I pulled my pants down or off, an instant erection sprang up, stiff and urgent. If I had sufficient time and privacy I would heed the call of nature and vigorously stroke my foreskin back and forth until I orgasmed and ejaculated. Then I usually had to put it away and resume my life, looking like a respectable young man again. At night, or when I had a longer period of privacy during the day, I would do myself again and again, making it last, cumming several times. I was a sex-obsessed monster – when I wasn’t working my penis I was thinking impure thoughts, looking forward to my next opportunity to play my favorite game.
It never occurred to me that others might have been able to see what was really going on. That they might be quietly enjoying the thought of me jerking off at every opportunity, seeing right through my innocent demeanor. I never discussed masturbation with anyone, my own age or adults, and assumed that my dedication to penis play was just a personal quirk. I kept it a deep secret and never suspected that other boys might be doing the same, or that adults might not be fooled by my good boy act and recognize me for the dirty degenerate I really was.
I think of that sometimes now, when I see adolescent boys – of course they are jerking off, but are any of them as obsessed as I was? Do they do it every day, several times a day, masturbating for hours at a time? Is sex and masturbation on their minds all the time, dominating their life as it did mine? I picture them as I remember myself, secretly struggling with an improbably outsize penis, frantically pumping away, in thrall to the primal urge until they can achieve satisfaction and release. Then, with barely a pause, starting again.