My first intense experience with masturbation happened in the attic. I jacked off while I looked at a gay magazine I had been given by a friend at school. I went through that magazine page by page, admiring, touching the pages, kissing the pages, and then jacking off. I still have that magazine, it was my introduction into gay sex and gay porn.

My first real man was this foreigner who worked the register at the Sack N Pack down the street from our house. I would put together whatever change I could find, ride my bike down and spend it on candy. My folks worked and came home around seven, so in the afternoon I would go down to the Sack N Pack and read comic books, and the clerk let me leaf through the girlie magazines. One afternoon he followed me into the bathroom and locked the door. I got my first cock. He wasn't like any of the men in the magazine, he was older with a hairy chest and belly and his cock was dark and he was uncircumcised, but he was hard and once I took it into my mouth all I could do was stay on him. He checked out my cock, gave me a hand job and sucked me off. I came while he was giving me a hand job.


I took my magazine to show him. He had a source of gay porn, and he would let me look at it in the storage room. If the store was quiet he would come back to back and give me a quick hand job or suck my cock for a minute, and once I a while he gave me his cock to suck for a few minutes. It was a year before he had me lean over some boxes and I experienced him all in.

Between college and retirement I lived the life of a straight man, searching for adventure in the dark areas of town, getting blow jobs in the car, following a guy up the back stairs in low end motels. In those early days I found a man who worked at the bank who liked to get it on in sleazy motels, he was there for the fuck, and I met up with him on a fairly regular basis. We never saw each other in real life.

In my mid forties I met a man and in a discussion with him I related how much I liked those early days of underground magazines that the clerk in the Sack N Pack shared with me. He hooked me up with a man who worked at a seaman's store and he was my source for underground gay porn. I went back to masturbating, enjoying the pictures and the narratives.

Retired now, we have other sources, but really the magazines offer a lot more. You can hold the magazine, worship the pictures and masturbate slowly to the image and the thoughts that fill your head. You just don't get that with the online experience. I miss those days, the clandestine pick up of the latest issue, the adventure of finding a new face and cock to jack off too.

I have my collection, safely hidden away in the shed out back. I go out there, and pretend that I am going to work in the yard and jack off to some of those old magazines. It has been a while since I hooked up and got off to it in the flesh. I watch the lawn guys working the yards up and down the street. Which one of them would get it on with me? Unlikely, just too old for them. But I bet I can give them a pretty good blow job.