The Jackoff Artist (m/m)

Discussion in 'Fictitious Stories' started by Duke610, Jul 22, 2009.

  1. Duke610

    Duke610 Member

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    I jacked off for the first time when I was 11. Although I had no idea what happened that first time (other than that it felt terrific and made a horrendous mess), I figured it out pretty quick, and began a lifetime of masturbation and other forms of masculine self-pleasure. Due to LPSG’s completely correct stance against underage storylines, I won’t dwell on those early experiences. Instead, I will simply say I’ve jacked off – at a very conservative average – twice a day, every day, ever since.

    I’m 51 now, and it’s been 40 years and 8 months since that fateful evening. First wank of the day, I can easily come twice in an hour. Four or five times a day is still very commonplace, and my personal best of 7 jacks in one 10-hour period came just a couple of years ago. My refractory period is exactly the same as I was when I was a kid. They say you slow down when you get older, but I’m sure not seeing any signs of it.

    Doing the math, jacking myself twice a day for 39 yrs/8 mos works out to 28,966 acts of masturbation. If each session lasts 10 minutes, and each phase of orgasm lasts 10 seconds, and each ejaculation is 10cc of sperm, a little calculating work reveals the following:

    If it all was compiled into one session, I would masturbate for 7.2 months, and then spend the next 80 hours ejaculating, and produce 76.5 gallons of sperm. Whew. I think I’d need a nap after that.

    But, spread out over years, there have been many interesting experiences – both by myself and with others. I know the latter are of particular interest to the group, so here are a few of my more ahem interesting jacking experiences with other guys. All true, all 100% as happened. Loose chronological order, I’ll put one up every few days. Please feel free to comment, I have pics of a lot of the guys if anything particularly floats your boat.
     
  2. Duke610

    Duke610 Member

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    A Beemer and A Bike
    At 19, I was only just starting to experiment with sex with other guys. I’d been having sex with girls since I was 15, and was pretty up on that, but my experiences with other guys were hesitant and somewhat clumsy affairs. They happened by coincidence, accident or seduction. I didn’t know how to cruise, had no game, and was generally pretty clueless. That would get addressed quickly, but on this particular day, I am very horny, in desperate need of another man’s touch, and with only vague ideas how to go about making that happen.

    I rode my motorcycle to a small village near the city where I live. To get to it, I passed through an abandoned military installation. Riding along, I saw a BMW 3-series coming towards me. Closing speed of 50 mph each, I had only a momentary glimpse of a blond man in a tank top. All he could have seen of me – if anything – was my eyes behind the visor of my helmet. I continued into town and gazed longingly at hot tourists and men working shirtless on their sailboats. Tan skin, hairy chests, and the little curly patches of hair at the bases of their backs. Still with no idea of how to connect, after an hour or so I gave up in frustration, to head home to another afternoon of compulsive masturbation over porn.

    I decided to stop inside the abandoned base and smoke a joint. I parked on a promontory with a spectacular view of the bay, fired up, and let the smoke ease into my mind. As the pot buzz washed over me, my frustration eased up and I relaxed. But, suddenly, I had the peculiar sensation that I was being watched. No cars or other motorcycles had passed me. I looked around, and saw no hikers, joggers, or bicyclists in any direction.

    Just about to give it up to pot nerves, I sensed movement at the top of my peripheral vision. There was sheer cliff on the other side of the road and at the top of it – about 200’ up – stood a man. Silhouetted by the hot afternoon sun, it was impossible to tell who he was, what he was wearing, or what he looked like. He gave me a long, broad wave. I waved back. He made an equally broad ‘come up here’ motion with his hands. I made a broad ‘shrug how’ motion with mine. He gesticulated pointing to his right.

    The bike was parked the opposite way, so I got on and turned it around. I looked up at him and he pointed again. I went about 1/8 mile down the road and, in a small clearing, I saw almost hidden in the foliage an unlocked and open gate. Easing the bike forward, I went up a deeply rutted dirt and gravel driveway, completely shrouded on all sides with trees and shrubbery. The bike slipped as the rear tire gained and lost traction, but I eased up the hill, and all of a sudden emerged on top of the hill into bright sunlight.

    The blue BMW I’d seen earlier was there, deserted. I parked next to it, took off my helmet and jacket, and looked inside. Inside was a tank top, and a couple of gay porn mags. I walked over to the edge of the cliff, to his vantage point where he had just been looking down at me. The grass was still compressed from where he had stood.

    Looking to my right, I saw an abandoned compound of demolished buildings – all either just the concrete foundation pads, or else just some stubs of the first floor walls. The whole area was fenced off, but I noticed a cut fencing section and was able to squeeze through. I took off my t-shirt and wandered in, wearing just jeans and sneakers. I got about 100’ in and he came around the corner.

    I’d guess he was in his early 30s – blond, but unusually hairy. He was just wearing a pair of small green gym shorts and some sandals. He bent to take off the gym shorts and stood up, naked. He picked his penis up by the base and began twirling it, helicopter style. He walked over to me and said, “I see you found me.” I could tell he was as stoned as I was, and I reached out to grab a handful of his chest hair, and flick his big brown nipples.

    At this, he groaned, and one long thick rope of pre-cum slowly drooled out of his penis,dropping and swaying in the hot afternoon breeze, until it attached itself to his furry kneecap. Bending down, I took the strand in my mouth and scooped it in like a long strand of spaghetti, kissing the head of his penis to break it free. He was instantly erect, as was I. In a moment I shucked off my jeans and jockey shorts and stood naked, but for my sneakers.

    “Wow. You’ve got a really hairy penis.” he stated simply – the lust and admiration obvious in his voice and his gaze. He led me by the hand into the maze of buildings to one that had to adjacent walls still standing, facing the afternoon sun. Inside it was glaringly bright. In the corner of the two walls was a foam mat, an ice chest, his pot supplies, and some more porn. Obviously, he came here to work on his tan, and he’d been busy getting baked and sexed up when he heard my bike. And now, here we are.

    The improbable nature of this encounter, the taboo of being outdoors, his incredibly hot body, all sent me into a wave of mental, emotional and physical turmoil and desire. We began kissing, licking, biting and sucking each other all over – biting each other’s nipples, eating hairy assholes, and licking swollen cocks and balls. Falling onto the mat, we were a tumbling, contorting, thrusting, gasping, sweating co-mingling of two male bodies at the peak of sexual desire.

    There was no way a moment like this was going to last long. I’m sure it was at least five minutes, but nowhere near 10, before we were both grunting and groaning our mutual simultaneous orgasms as the heavy jets of sperm squirted all over our hands and bellies and bodies.

    Regrettably, in that early stage of my development, the moment I got off I needed to get out. I’ve gotten over that *smirk* but it was an almost visceral need to flee at that time. Jumping up, babbling something stupid about being worried about the bike, I ran to collect my clothes and rode down the bumpy hill and then straight home.

    Even now, I can relive that moment – step by step – as if it was yesterday. I have little to regret in life – either sexually or otherwise – but I do feel very badly that I didn’t at least take some time to talk to him, find out his name, perhaps find a way to connect again. At that time, long before the internet and craigslist, it would have taken a coincidental miracle to find him again. I went back every weekend for months, but the gate was always resolutely padlocked. I never saw him again.

    Comments? More? This is actually one of the tamer ones. I’ve really gotten into some shenanigans over the years.
     
  3. arktrucker

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    I was wondering, with all the jacking you've done how do you hide the back of your head where it caved in or the hair on your palms! lol

    Son, I've done just about as much jacking as you have. A kid I grew up with and I used to jack in the back row of our 5th grade class! I love it and always have. From races with buddies to see who could cum quickest or who had the most output. Who could shoot the farthers (not me, ever) I always got them on volume!

    I can't remember the comedian who said 'if God didn't want you to play with your self, he'd have put your hands on your shoulders'
     
  4. Duke610

    Duke610 Member

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    +1. I've got a buddy way worse than me. 8-10x a day until he was well into his forties.

    Following, one more installment. Got plenty more where these came from.
     
  5. Duke610

    Duke610 Member

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    SLAP!

    A couple years later, and I’d upped my game with guys considerably. But I was still learning a few things. This episode was my first real experience with role playing/fantasy/BDSM. I’d quickly realized that I was only interested in masculine men. Twinky, effeminate guys weren’t my cup of tea at all. So when I met Tom I was hooked. Short, stocky, and very muscular, he had a crewcut and coarse, almost brutal, features. He looked like a Marine, but in reality he was a circuit party promoter. He looked a little incongruous driving around in his little Audi station wagon, but there you go.

    We’d met online and he told me the fantasy he wanted to enact. There were four very specific elements to it, and he cautioned me that I was to stick faithfully to those four elements, and not deviate from the program. “If you try to throw in something else,” he wrote, “I’ll get angry and I might hurt you.” I liked the four elements, and the overall scene, just fine and had no intention of modifying anything. But even the threat of violence gave the whole thing a little frisson of excitement and danger.

    I showed up at his mid-town apartment and he buzzed me into the building. The door to his apartment was slightly ajar. I let myself in, closed and locked it. The house was silent, and appeared empty. The only light was what managed to filter through the closed blinds. I stripped off everything except my jockey shorts in the kitchen and walked into the bedroom.

    My first live sight of Tom, he lying on a futon naked, wearing a blindfold. GodDAMN his body is even hotter than the pics. He’s got a little hairy boner – much smaller than mine. He lies there, his head cocked to one side, aware of my presence. #1 – Come into my room wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. I’m already boned up, and I kneel beside him and rub the bulging cotton pouch against his cheek. He lets out a deep, low groan, and his little boner swells perceptibly.

    I take off my briefs, which are damp, sweaty and musky from the heat of the day, and drape them loosely across his nose and mouth. I stand, and put my feet on either side of his shoulders, with my body facing his feet, and slowly lower myself until his lips and tongue are poised to rim me. #2 – I want to eat a really hairy butthole. And ream my hairy ass he did. GodDAMN this guy knew how to eat butt.

    I leaned forward and began spanking his erect penis. But this wasn’t naughty little Madonna spankies, this was verging on cock torture. #3 – Spank my cock, and make it really, really hurt. I varied the frequency, tempo and strength. Many small slaps in a row. Then a long pause, and one huge one. Then lightHARDlightHARDlightHARD. HARDHARDHARDHARD. Light. And on and on and on.

    Blindfolded, there was almost no warning of when each spank would come, or how hard it would be. The more vigorous the spanks, he’d let out little yelps and groans and screams of pleasure. Although I hadn’t ever thought of causing pain as a turn-on, it was so obvious he was totally getting off on the experience that I found myself getting incredibly horny.

    Eventually he started bucking and arching his hips, and I let the slaps gradually morph into a rough, unlubricated jacking. Eventually he arched his back high, let out an anguished groan, and six small jets of sperm squirted out of him, copiously coating his pubic hair and belly. He slumped on the bed.

    At this point, I was painfully, rigidly swollen – as big an erection as I ever got. I stood up – this time by his feet, facing his head. He peeled back the blindfold, and his first sight is of hairy, boned-up me staring at him, swaying my hips so my big cock moves from side to side. His jaw dropped and his eyes glazed over (I’m pretty sure he’s high on something, but this is such safe sex I really don’t care.) #4 – I want your big load all over my face.

    Seconds away from coming, I realize I’m going to come a lot, and standing up won’t do the job. So I quickly kneel by the side of his head, and let go. Wow. He got his facial, all right. But he also got a hair-cial, and a chest-cial, and a whole lot of bed-cial and pillow-cial. Man, I doused him good. Just frickin’ painted him!

    So now he’s lying there in one big puddle of our spooge, and I know I’m supposed to get dressed and leave in silence, but I have a brainstorm. “Stay there. Don’t move. Don’t touch yourself. Don’t clean yourself.” I instruct him in my sternest voice. Eyes wide, he nods in compliance. I walk out to the kitchen stepping into my jockeys as I go.

    Grabbing something from my shorts, I amble back into the bedroom. I’ve lost my erection, but I’m still pretty swollen, and my jockey shorts bulge obscenely, with my thick pubes sprouting out the sides. “Ya like that big dick dontcha?” I taunted him. He nodded vigorously. “Want me to come over and show it to ya again? Beat ya up some more?” More nodding. “Hmm. Maybe. We’ll have to see.”

    I stand up, hidden in my hand was a folded dollar bill. I toss it at him and it spirals down and lands in the puddle of our sperm in his clavicle. His eyes open wide – he gets it. “You used me!” he exclaims in a surprisingly deep voice. “You used me like a WHORE!” “You bet buddy, and you loved every minute of it.” I reply. Without another word, I turned on my heel, walked out, got dressed, and left.

    By the time I got home, there was an email from him. Thanks so much, that was the best ever, nobody else ever did it so well, the dollar bill was an inspired touch, please come back sometime. Hugs, Tom.

    I did. And it went on from there.
     
  6. justmeincal

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    Great stories, especially the first one. Thanks!
     
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