I started jacking off when I was about 11 years old, when my family lived in the city. It was my brother’s porn I used and I used them a lot. I don’t remember ever having a wet dream then, even though a few guys in my class has inquired each other here or there during recess. We moved from the city to the rural South when I was about 13. There wasn’t much porn, just my mother’s tawdry novels that she would leave around once finished. I did not stop the amount I was masturbating, as my father said: I was always going to the outhouse. And into the woods. But, strangely, I started having wet dreams. I remember having one during a daytime nap on a hot summer day. My brothers and sisters saw the wet spot in my gym shorts.
“He just had a wet dream!” my older brother yelled, pointing out the obvious. And they all teased me for awhile. I was mortified.
As frequent as they were at the time, they became rare as the years passed and I went into high school and got my driver’s license. Many a country road, boys room urinals, once in a buddy’s car (I was driving his car back to my place where he would pick it up after he fucked some girl) and that porn drive-in a couple of towns over had encountered my semen. At home it was my room or the bathroom or my parents’ bathroom or outside in the middle of the night. I had stopped going into the woods, though.
There was an old white guy my father partnered with in tobacco farming. That dude was awesome! I mean really salt of the earth. And he loved talking about wet dreams, when it was guys only. “Yeah, and you wake up and just squirting all in your shorts,” was one way he’d enthusiastically convey. In addition, me and my boys talked about it once on the carport of my family’s house and each of us talked about some embarrassing moments.
I remember the night before I was sworn in the military, I had the room to myself for some time and went into the bathroom and jacked myself in a frenzy for about an hour and a half. I felt like it was the last time I would be jacking off. Later, just when I thought I wouldn’t be getting a roommate and I could jerk off again…I heard the key in the door lock. Moving on, I masturbated in the shower before breakfast – at that time thinking: okay, this might be the last time so make it good!
The military was the wet dream of wet dreams. “And I don’t want to see any obscene stains in those sheets!” our T.I. barked at us on our first night.
After a few days, I was squirting my underwear almost every night. Before bed, we had to shower and change into fresh underwear. Once you heard that trumpet at 0500 hours, you’d better be dressed and in rank and formation in a matter of minutes. I’d be walking around in my sperm all day, having to turn to face my locker in the evening while undressing before a shower. However, the couple of times I had to be a Laundry Lady, I knew I wasn’t the only one soaking his shorts at night of course.
On to tech school and military life, I jacked off any chance I got. The wet dreams came and went until I was out in civilian life and living on my own. I haven’t had one since…wow, I can’t remember. I was probably in my mid 20s finally in my own place. I’ve always preferred to live alone not only because I’m at ease with my own company but because of my love for masturbation and being able to do it as long and as many times as I want and need.
Once, in my early 40s, I tried to see if I could have a wet dream…and a wet dream while sleeping naked! My dirty mind set a task: no jerking off for a month. I was sure with my high sex drive and my body used to shooting off 2 or 3 times a day would trigger me in a week. Nope. I lasted 3 weeks, and no wet dream – but damn that load I shot!
So the days of wet dreams are behind me and I remember I loved having them. I also remember sometime during my military years that after waking up from a wet dream, I would always want to masturbate. I would tug myself off in the private showers, remembering that earlier delicious and unexpected orgasm.
Those are my experiences with wet dreams. I wonder if C.C.’s open joy for wet dreams taught me to enjoy them?
I sometimes wonder if my cum fetish came from filling my underwear up and having to walk around in it all day during boot camp?