Like I said in my first post to this blog, it all began with my dad. My dad was not your typical male of the 1950's and 60's and he certainly did not "mess" with me. But he was an active man, had a robust runner's body, and, like I said, his RIC'ed penis was a sight to behold.
He wore a Johnson & Johnson Blue Ribbon jockstrap when he was an ump during my impressionable years. But really, he should have worn a cup too. He was lucky because when I was 13, 14 or 15 years old or so, he was hit in the ribs by an errant baseball in a game. Several of his ribs were broken and that ended his career of Little League umpire in my hometown.
So all things considered, my dad's life was coincidental to my sexual development. I say this in all earnest because in later years we became good friends in other areas outside the subject matter of this blog.
Perhaps the high point of my years as an adolescent occurred when I entered seventh grade in the fall of 1962. That was when gym began to be a serious subject. Coach Knox was different from most coaches that I had in junior and senior high school. He was in his early 60's, having coached sports in our public schools for many years. He was different because he had come to accept everyone in his gym classes, even spasmotics such as myself.
I remember vividly the first day of gym class. It was an early September day: cool, clear, crisp weather, ideal for wearing sweaters for the approaching autumn in Connecticut. He said that the school would supply us with a T-shirt, shorts, and white socks for a fee. We were responsible for getting our own sneakers and athletic supporter. So after school that day I went to our town drugstore and I purchased my first jockstrap. It was a boys' size Johnson & Johnson Coach Athletic Supporter. It came in a smallish box with a buck naked athlete wearing nothing but a jock. I immediately got a throbbing boner in my chinos when I made the purchase.
I rushed home and went immediately to my bedroom. I stripped off my clothes and slipped on the jock. I immediately sprung a raging erection while the mesh jock pouch firmly supported my gonads and penis and caressed my circumcised glans. I learned quickly in the weeks and months following to replicate the feelings "down there" by touching and caressing my penis. This quickly laid to earnest masturbation sessions which rewarded me with my first full-fledged orgasm and orgasm a year or so later.
Over the years, I have come to savor more and more my masturbation sessions. Most older guys learn to take their time achieving climax in their masturbation sessions or sex with someone else. Over the years one learns to focus on their instrument of pleasure. I like to think of my penis as a male axis of sexual pleasure. Like many guys when I began a masturbation session I tend to focus on my glans. Several years ago through my years of experience and reflection of [circumcised] Penis, the glans penis is at one pole of this axis and the prostate at the other end. Sexual pleasure arises in the glans, travels down the shaft of the penis and ends up at the prostate from where it returns to the glans. So when a guy masturbates or fucks, it is this up and down motion of pleasure, or even a circular motion, that brings sexual bliss to owner of the penis [and to his partner, if present]. The challenge comes when the guy wants to prolong his sexual pleasure and that of his partner. Edging and stop-and-go techniques are the answer to this dilemma.
I believe now that I was not only in my sexual discoveries. I am sure many guys have had similar experiences. Would love to engage with other guys into masturbation, jocks and cups through Google.
Thom in DC