** and obsessed

I had my first ** at around 12. I became obsessed with that meat hanging from my groin. I seemed
have opened a pandora's box by not keeping my hands off my **. I had been teasing and tickling my ** for weeks. The feelings I was opening up kept getting stronger. I watched my ** get as hard as steel. Then after not leaving well enough alone my ** paid me back by giving me the most intense ** feeling of my young life. I knew right then this meat which had just spilled slimy fluid onto the floor would occupy a lot of my time.

So now, here I begin my lifelong adventures in masturbation. I started using the corner of my white bedsheets as a cumrag. I began to notice the yellow stains. Fearful my mother would confront me I quit. I still needed something else to deposit my ** on. I found a large white handkerchief that would serve my purpose well. So each night in bed as I lay there and would stare in amazement at my **. It would be so hard and stiff. Sometimes at night the moonlight would shine across my waist as I lay there staring at my ** because it would be a deep red. I could not get to sleep because my hard ** would be begging me to satisfy it. I would obey, grunting after an hour of edging. Day after day and night after night ** would be deposited onto my new cumrag. That lovely handkerchief soon lost its white color. It turned slowly tan, then a sticky dark brown. I would ball it up and throw it behind my bed after each session, to hide it from my mother. If I skipped a day or so of **, my cumrag would become hard. I then had to pry it apart to make it lie open. I am glad my mother never looked under my bed. Whew! Sometimes in bed when I would on the verge of shooting ** I would turn on my side, face the wall, and stroke until my ** would blast out hitting the wall sliding down in silvery white globs. I notice later that the wall became stained with ** streaks. Sometimes at the moment of ** blastoff, I would swing my legs off the bed and stand up. Bending my knees a little my hand would be a blur jerking my bloated, hardened **. I would watch my ** turn a shiny deep red, then my hips would ** back and forth. My whole body became stiff as my ** flew out onto the linoleum floor. Oh, if that floor could only talk. After my ** sessions I would sleep like a baby.

If I couldn't get to my cumrag, I used the toilet, and the bath water at the end of bathing. I would stick my ** just above the water during my bath time. I would groan , grunt and stare as my ** would swell up and shoot ** into the air. The ** blobs would plop, plop, plop back into water. I watched as the ** resembled tadpoles descending to lay on the tub bottom. I have used what seems like hundreds and hundreds of tissues and paper towels to shove my erupting ** into. Yes, you're right, I do have a problem. My ** won't leave me alone.