In 1975 I learned to beat off by watching a kid we called “The Hammer”. We were in a fort made from refrigerator boxes that we made behind an apartment complex that was still under construction.
I was 11 years old. There were 5 or 6 of us — maybe more, cause that’s part of the memory I can’t recall exactly — but it’s something I’ll never forget. Just like you’ll never forget the way you learned how to masturbate.
Looking back at it now, I wish beating off was something I just kinda stumbled upon; which, I think, is the way most girls learn how to masturbate. But I could be wrong about that.
Instead, on a nice day after school, I hauled ass to the apartment complex after dumping my school stuff in my bedroom. The complex was directly across the street from where I lived — a suburb on the Chicago’s east side.
We always walked home from school in a group. When we saw the immense pile of boxes piled high near the complex on our way home. It was a mountain of boxes, enough to make The Biggest Fort of All Time.
Within an hour, we had The Great Room, various wings that lead to smaller rooms; there were even enough boxes to create an outer wall, and we were certain that outer wall would protect us from any and all dirt clods — cause we knew it was only a matter of time before we came under attack.
Instead of dirt clods, it was The Hammer who came crashing in. He was a freshman in high school, but in those days, when you flunked, you FLUNKED. Hammer should have been a sophomore. Maybe a junior. He made us nervous, too, because the rumor was he belonged to The Burnham Boys. No one messed with The Burnham Boys. Ever.
None of us had never met a real Burnham Boy, either. Still, no one dared asked The Hammer if he belonged. We didn’t ask him why he wanted us all in The Great Room, either; but when he told us to get in there, we did.
The Hammer wasted no time. He said, “You guys wanna watch me pop sperm?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, and I don’t think my friends did, either. We all nodded yes. He pulled out his dick, and suddenly I felt an overwhelming urge to cry.
No way am I gonna cry in front of my friends — and certainly not in front of The Hammer. We all sat there, kinda dumbstruck. After he pooped, he said, “Now I wanna watch you guys do it.”
I scrambled out, stammering about not wanting to get into trouble for being out. And I ran home as fast as I could.
And yep. That night, sitting in the tub while Aqua Man floated by, I tried to pop sperm. The result? The worst headache I’d ever experienced.
It was obvious to me then that Jesus was punishing me for that dirty behavior. I stopped right away and told Him “sorry”. I also told him I’d never do it agan.
But it sure did feel good before my head started to hurt. A few days later I broke my promise to Jesus. I attempted to pop sperm again. To my surprise, it worked! I walked around for weeks waiting for something bad to happen to me, cause you-know-who was watches everything we do.
No one ever spoke a word about what went down in the fort, and not too long after all this went down, and I was popping sperm on a regular basis.
I found a book in a dumpster. I was in the dumpster looking for beer cans, which was the first thing I ever collected.
The book was pulp smut called Come Swim in my Hole. The cover featured a bikini-clad MILF by a pool watching a younger dude jump off the diving board.
At least that’s how I remember it. Now that I collect pulp porno novels, I always look out for it. Cause it was my first masturbation fodder. Before Come Swim in my Hole, I have no idea what went through my head while I was poppin’ sperm. It was just something that felt good.
In 1978, I watched my first hardcore porno film. It was projected up against a wall in my best friend’s older brother’s bedroom. We watched it on a Super 8 projector.
Seka fucked John C. Holmes, and his wiener was so big I thought it was fake. We all laughed. I took the little poster that was folded up in the Swedish Erotica box the movie came in and slipped it into my pocket while no one was looking. Then I went to the bathroom to “piss”. Of course I had to announce I was had to piss, and no one cared or even looked up at me. They were watching Seka get railed.
I unfolded it to discover pictures of women with sperm all over their faces. They were smiling! I couldn’t believe a woman would ever let a man pop sperm on her face — let alone smile about it afterwards. I thought — Do women like that really exist?
Up to that point in my life, I hadn’t had sex yet, but an older girl named Diana I met at a Rodeo Parade would come over to my house “to do homework”. She’d always wind up blowing me. And she’d always swallow.
It never dawned on me to ask Diana if I could blast her face, and even after I saw Seka take that her facial, I’d never work up the courage to ask any of my girlfriends to do anything like that.
Cause, up to that point in my life, that sort of shit didn’t happen in the real world — and certainly not in mine.
I’m about six years older than you, but my innocence-losing experiences share ceartin similarities with yours.
The world was very different then. I came of age when there was no Hustler magazine. Playboy didn’t show viginas or even female pubic hair. That part of life stayed very mysterious for a very long time.
The 1970 me would have traded my very soul for today’s high speed Internet. I thank the gods that I lived to know a world where all the smut anyone could ever want is as near as the baseball card-sized telephone in my pocket.
Holy shit Billy, that’s fucking awesome. I had to make a conscious effort not to write, “That was the greatest thing I’ve ever read, man!” … yea. Good job. You’re the fucking man.
I learned to jack off from a cousin that simply told me “you rub your pee pee and then white stuff comes out and it feels reeealy good.” I was like WTF is this guy talking about? Then one day after school I was watching MTV and they played some pretty provocative music videos.. at least to a 12 year old boy they were provocative, and I managed to make the white stuff come out and it did feel reeealy good. I didn’t use the stereotypical sock, but I did use a tshirt or sheet for whatever reason. Didn’t learn to do with my actual hand till much later! And even then it took a while to adjust to the feeling. I’m not even exactly sure how old I was.
Anyway.. I was subbed to you on YouTube..It sucks you got censored again. I heard you were gonna relaunch on Vimeo. Any updates on that?
Billy, this is why you should write a book. Excellent post.
Billy, it’s a new age. Find yourself a black dominant boyfriend and be free man. Suck his big black cock and rim his rectum to your heart’s content. White boys don’t have to be ashamed anymore. You can quit using white women as your sexual surrogate to black jizz.
Ah Hunter…eggfu…anonymous. Whatever you wanna call yourself. Thanks. I dunno what I would do without all your wisdom. You’re an old soul, and I’m glad to have you as one of my readers.
Billy! What’s your view on the whole Duke thing?! I mean every girl in the same shoes has to reconcile their performance persona with their “real” persona right? Even you – over time, do people learn to “respect” the boundaries?
Lol… I see a guest blog approaching… email soon
Good to see you still (somewhat) care about this site ,Billy. Great post. I must be weird as it goes with my first encounter with masturbation…because I had actual sex (age 14) first.Sure,I saw Playboy / Penthouse/Hustler before that event…but it never occurred to me to “rub one out”. I just walked around with a drippy perpetual boner.A coupla months after my first sex with a girl…I remember humping a bed (while replaying my 1st ” big event” in my head) I was in ecstatic disbelief at how good it felt…and that I was about to come to the same quick conclusion with the bed that I’d had in the condom with that girl.Having discovered my “new toy”…I of course made up for lost time.Boy did I ever.
I remember watching a lot of porn and smuggling dirty magazines back and forth but nobody was jacking off in from of each other. We trying to get girls to do that for us. These older chicks told us to jack off in front of them and my friend said “I don’t choke my chicken for nobody.” If I would have know what I know now I would have skeeted on those chicks or at least done a you show me yours I show you mine type of deal. As a young guy I tried my best to get girls involve in anything sexual. I was playing doctor as a kid. I never though girls were gross or weird. Beating off was gay but if you we’re getting pussy you were the man.
Zombie revival, I know. But I would like to say that I jerked off for over a year before “popping sperm”. The first time it happened, I was shimmying up a metal pole to untangle a tetherball knot and had to stop mid-shimmy to collect myself. I slid down the pole slowly, smiling like a boss. “You guys gotta try this. It’s so cool!” I was sure that this discovery would instantly catapult me to playground super-stardom. My best friend tried it – no luck. I couldn’t understand it. Next day, I did it again with a bunch of kids watching. “Like this, see? Just go up and up and it happens. Ahhh… Yeahhh…. It feels so good!” Having seen the truth on my face, they all started clamoring to get their turns. I handed it over, sure I’d be crowned Seth the Great by day’s end. But no. Instead, some fucking asshole older kid saw what was really happening and began ridiculing, turning my joy into shame and setting the stage for my life-long hatred of jocks. I know where he lives and am honestly planning on burning his house down. Not just for that one incident, mind you. He would laugh at whoever was chosen last for kickball, steal your food, pound on the bathroom stall doors when guys smaller than him were in there taking a shit. He was three years older than me and I could never beat him at anything on the playground. I think that qualifies as justification for arson, don’t you?