Alarm Clock

In the puberty scheme of things, I was a late bloomer. My first wet dream came when I was sixteen, and morning woods followed. Being a young man was quite disturbing. Who needs an alarm clock, when your cock is as hard as petrified wood and you're horny as the devil when you first wake up?? I was puzzled, unaware of what to do to cure myself of this unfortunate, yet not unpleasant, circumstance. All I knew was that it felt splendid, and oh, when I touched it, who knew life could feel so grand!?!?! 

I'd always heard guys in gym class talk about 'jerking off' or 'jangling your jollies' or 'choking the chicken' or 'beating the meat' or 'spanking the monkey' or even 'rosie palming it.' I was utterly confused. Maybe all the boys had a secret little language for a new elicit drug??? I didn't know...

I'd learned in Sex Education about masturbation, and then learned how to insert a banana into a condom. Condoms and masturbation. Puberty brings new light into life, a mysterious and tempting light. Masturbation, I learned was when a boy would stroke the male organ, or dick, willie, cock, monkey, jollie, chicken or meat, until climax. And what was climax? I found out.

Curiosity didn't kill this cat! I started out slowly, touching, pulling, caressing and stroking. Every movement felt fantastic. The faster, the better. And the climax blew my mind into a million fucking fantastic pieces, and nothing was ever the same after that. 

If masturbation was so wrong, like my seminary teacher, and my father, and even God says, then why, why, did it feel so damn good!?!?! Ask Adam, that's my answer.