H**** and obsessed

I had my first o***** 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 d***. I had been teasing and tickling my d*** for weeks. The feelings I was opening up kept getting stronger. I watched my d*** get as hard as steel. Then after not leaving well enough alone my d*** paid me back by giving me the most intense erotic 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 c** 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 d***. It would be so hard and stiff. Sometimes at night the moonlight would shine across my waist as I lay there staring at my d******* because it would be a deep red. I could not get to sleep because my hard d*** would be begging me to satisfy it. I would obey, grunting after an hour of edging. Day after day and night after night c** 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 jerking off, 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 c** I would turn on my side, face the wall, and stroke until my c** would blast out hitting the wall sliding down in silvery white globs. I notice later that the wall became stained with c** streaks. Sometimes at the moment of c** 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 d***. I would watch my d******* turn a shiny deep red, then my hips would j*** back and forth. My whole body became stiff as my c** flew out onto the linoleum floor. Oh, if that floor could only talk. After my j*** 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 d******* just above the water during my bath time. I would groan , grunt and stare as my d******* would swell up and shoot c** into the air. The c** blobs would plop, plop, plop back into water. I watched as the c** 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 d*** into. Yes, you're right, I do have a problem. My d*** won't leave me alone.

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