Beginning Anew

Thank you for following my blog. Over 1000 views in the first 7 days. Amazing! I hope it’s been entertaining and, maybe, even a little instructive at times. We’ve come to the end of a long, tough year for a lot of people. Like many, I wonder what the future will bring.

I’m an eternal optimist; though at times I’ll engage in self-pity, those spans never last very long. Looking forward to a new year, may all of us find,  first and foremost, all the things we need to provide for ourselves and our loved ones and good health.

The rigidity factor of your boner is an indicator of good health. The way to keep the tissues healthy like this:

Is to do this:

Which results in this:

Which should result in more of these:

 And more of this:

Keep it healthy in the new year!

Be well, play safe. May 2011 be our best year to date; a New Beginning for all that is good and right. And I hope to see you all here after January 1.

Happy New Year Everybody!

On Male Bondage

No, I don’t mean shackles and leather restraints. I mean JO Buds. Hmmm. Another “secretive,” completely misunderstood thing. I mentioned in an earlier post about married guys looking for a jackin’ bud – or buds. I think I should clarify. What I meant was, straight dudes – married or single.

What a negative stigma has been attached to this type of male bonding! A psychologist friend of mine, when I admitted my teenage activities to him, laughed and told me it’s way more common than most people realize. He said it does not change, or in any way influence, a man’s sexual orientation. The simple act of masturbating with another male simply brings them together through a common bond. It becomes a learning tool; you are able to come to the full realization that what you have hanging there is, with minor variations, the same. It feels the same, looks the same and, above all else, behaves and reacts the same.

For adult males to engage in mutual jacking strengthens and solidifies the bond between them. I think the founder of the Rain City Jacks (a jack off club in Seattle, Washington) stated it on their website most succinctly: “Sexual orientation is both very simple and very complex. As human beings, we're a lot more than just one thing and it takes more than an interest in JO to make a person gay.
Masturbation is sexy. Seeing a man stroke his hard cock is an erotic sight, even for a straight man. A gay man may have a different range of experiences around that image, but just finding it erotic and exciting is simply human and simply male.
A gay man is going to experience a strong sexual attraction to other men throughout his life, will be sexually indifferent to women and compelled naturally to seek romantic partnerships or familial alliances with other men. A straight man will experience strong sexual attraction to women throughout his life, general sexual indifference to men and will feel compelled to partner with females. These are fundamental drives etched in our genes.
But given the right circumstances, when presented with a safe environment to explore, a straight man can thoroughly enjoy masturbation with other men. It does not alter his fundamental sexual orientation.
These examples are extreme. The vast majority of men fall on a continuum of sexual orientation between completely gay and completely straight. Most of us are capable, given the right circumstances, of enjoying a sexual experience beyond our natural predisposition.
Therefore, it is perfectly okay for a straight man to be turned on by the sight of another man masturbating, and perfectly possible to masturbate with him and enjoy the experience. It does not alter his fundamental sexuality.”

Personal experience, throughout my teenage years and into adulthood, has proven that all true. I belonged to a jack off group until it closed down for a lack of facilities to hold events. And, the overwhelming majority of our attendees were married, self-identifying straight men. One day I polled the men to ask what, beyond the friendship and male connections they formed, at least part of the allure might be (beyond the obvious).

Overwhelmingly, the answer was: men are way much better at hand jobs and sucking dick. No lie (sorry, ladies, but it’s a totally true and accurate statement). I guess it simply boils down to if you have a cock, you inherently know what to do with one. You know how to treat it, you recognize the physical signals it’s telegraphing as it twitches and throbs, hardens and subsides, and as the balls elevate and drop back down.

That’s Entertainment

or The Benefits of Jacking Off

In my various relationships with women, I found them to be… what’s the right word? …not straight-laced, or uptight, necessarily… but they don’t understand guys. I don’t mean mentally, or intellectually, though that’s probably true too. I mean, they don’t comprehend the way our bodies work and how our brains are connected to our dicks. I suppose it’s fair – we don’t understand them either. Maybe we aren’t supposed to.

I tried to counsel a co-worker, whose wife was pregnant and had cut him off with “get that thing away from me,” when he didn’t know what to do. I told him to just say “honey, I’m going to be in the bathroom for a while…” His response was, “she’s not happy about that either.” She won’t help him get his stones off and she doesn’t want him getting himself off? How ridiculous! I told him he needed ignore her and do it anyway. You know, maybe women need to become more comfortable with masturbation – on and for themselves. Maybe they’d finally begin to understand the benefits. (Are you listening, girls?)

Yet, when I think back, I realize when I would masturbate the ladies in my life got all pouty and hurt and displayed a “how come I’m not enough for you” attitude. And no matter how much you try to explain it has nothing to do with them, they just don’t understand. Because then they would invariably take it into the realm of cheating: “You may not be with someone else, but it’s still cheating.” Oh, Jesus H. Christ! All I did was whack off! It’s just…

Well, to be honest, it’s not “just” anything; it’s lots of things.

It’s the need to go off somewhere by myself and just be… me. Not to have to think about anything else, or anybody else; to concentrate solely on my own desires; kicking back to pleasure myself – to take as long, or as short a time as my current mood desires. A buddy of mine – no, not a j/o bud – once told me he felt masturbation is the ultimate experience. His thought process is pretty simple. “Nobody can do you the way you can do you.” And what he meant was this: When we whack our willies, we know what we want right there in the moment and we satisfy it. We don’t need to say “squeeze my balls,” or “lick my nipples,” or faster, slower, or make any other verbal command (request?); if we want our balls squeezed, we squeeze our balls. If we want our nipples licked, we wet our fingers with saliva or (most likely) pre-cum and rub our little nubs. If we want something shoved up our ass to hit our g-spot, there’s no “gross! I’m not doing that!” Make sense? Well… I thought so.

And, yes, I’ll admit, sometimes it is just because I’m horny and want to get my rocks off. If she’s not in the mood, or incapacitated for whatever reason, I should be able to satisfy that urge by stroking my cock without any measure of guilt. And I definitely should not have to hide what I’m doing by locking myself in the bathroom. I should be able to spread out on the bed and enjoy it.

Whether it’s a long, slow, hours-long session of worshiping my cock or a crazy-fast, death-grip, furious stroking to cum as quickly as possible I realize the full benefits of jacking off.

It can be as simple as a need to calm nerves and reduce stress. Let’s say I have this big presentation to make at work the next day. I’m nervous about it; all keyed up and I can’t relax. Dropping trou (perhaps in the men’s room, either standing at a urinal or in one of the stalls) getting hard and blasting a load of cum enables me to push the work concerns to the back of my brain. The pressure and stress go away.

It’s a way to get rid of excess, or what some consider “nervous,” energy. Like when you’re feeling itchy and you need to do something physical. A guy can burn off some of that energy with a good, long, intensely physical stroking session, the energy spent when he cums.

It’s definitely a form of medicine. A headache, or tightness in my shoulders or neck can be relieved, at least to a degree, by having an orgasm. I cum and those muscles relax. The endorphins released by my brain, as my body releases its man-juice, flood the brain and reduce the headache.

It extends life expectancy. Reducing stress is good for us, we’ve already explained jacking off will accomplish that task. Calm people live longer. It’s also been well-documented that men who jack off regularly reduce the risk of prostate cancer and has been proven to extend a man’s life by two years or more.

It’s an over-the-counter sleep aid; without having to resort to drugs. When I can’t sleep, can’t turn my mind off for whatever reason, even a quick release seems to help. There have been times I’m so freakin’ tired, so exhausted, but I’ll lay in the bed and toss and turn. I can’t get comfortable. With a nice soft, soothing touch I can work up a decent hard-on, cum, and I’m able to fall asleep.

It’s a form of… entertainment. It’s definitely a way to relieve boredom. I can keep myself busy for hours on end stroking, teasing, playing with my rigid cock, and fondling my balls. There have been occasions when the time has flown by, because all I’ve been doing is enjoying myself; stroking and playing to the edge over and over again. No different than spending two or three hours reading a book, or watching a film. It’s a nice way of passing the time when the power goes out – no electricity needed!

(Unfounded) Fears

of a Dry Spell

Uncle Sam sent me Greetings. Oh, shit! Not wanting to get embroiled in a very unpopular war, a cousin and I ran down to the Air Force recruiting office. Two weeks later, after standing in a long line of naked guys getting the standard ball check and “bend over and spread ‘em” we were off to boot camp. The most troubling issue for me, which I expressed to my cousin on the flight down there, was “What the fuck do we do when we get horny?” “I heard they put Saltpeter in the food; it keeps you from getting a hard-on.”

That first night, right after Sarge snapped the lights off and the room went pitch black, the rhythmic sounds and tiny squeaking of bed springs floated through the barracks. A few snickers. The bunk next to mine started up. Then a few more added to the chorus. A short while later sighs of satisfaction and the distinct aroma of cum was thick in the air. At 4a.m. the lights snapped on. 40 guys jumped out of bed, most with dried semen covering their torsos, and all of us running for the gang shower with our morning boners pointing the way. So much for Saltpeter. “Looks like you were wrong, cuz.” “Yeah, thank God!”

Basic training was over. Tech school followed – and everyone took to hiding in the latrine stalls to surreptitiously relieve aching balls. Then my first assignment; my fears began anew. On the way to the base I wondered, “Now what? More hiding?” The barracks turned out to be more like college dorm rooms: Two guys to a room. Beds, lockers, dressers, and a sink. I got put in with a buck sergeant a few years older. He greeted me wearing nothing but a smile, pointed to the bunk, locker and dresser I would use. I dumped my stuff and pulled my dop kit and a towel to head down to the latrine to shower. “It’s a lot easier to just undress here. Guys walk the hall naked all the time. No big deal.” I followed instructions. When I returned to the room, he was stretched out on his bed, slowly stroking his hard-on while he browsed through a porn magazine. I tried to reign in my surprise too late. “Hey, if this bothers you, go down to the day room for an hour every night.” “Nah, it’s okay. I shared a room with my brother.” “Bottom drawer under my locker – help yourself to a magazine if you want.” I hung my towel, put my stuff away with a smile of relief and did as he suggested. I got comfortable and he tossed a bottle of lube over to me. “You gotta buy the next bottle.” “Okay.” When he came, he pushed his hips high into the air, groaned and soaked his upper body. He slowly rubbed it into his skin and watched me until I shot. We tossed the magazines to the floor between our bunks, he flipped off the light and we slept like babies.

A couple weeks later, I began to notice his eyes were on me more than his porn. I smiled at him; he closed the mag and stood up. I stood up to face him. He threw a towel down and used his foot to wipe our cum off the floor. We hit our bunks, he flipped off the light and we went to sleep without a word. Several nights later, standing and stroking, he reached out and cupped my balls and our mutual jacking began.

A few weeks after that, on a Friday night, he invited me to a party up on the third floor. We walked in and 6 guys were sitting around drinking beer and talking. We all recognized one another. A projector was loaded with a reel and pointed at one wall. Somebody tossed me a beer and I joined the conversation. 15 minutes later the door got locked, the light went off, the projector started. In the flickering light I saw guys groping their crotches. It wasn’t long before cocks were unleashed and clothes got strewn on the floor. A hand wrapped around my hard dick and began stroking. Holy crap! an honest-to-God circle jerk. Needless to say, the experience was mind-blowing. 8 guys fondling each other’s cocks, kneading balls, whacking off and shooting hot, thick loads everywhere. I became a regular invitee to the monthly events.

When the warm weather rolled in, a guy asked if I liked to tan in the buff. It’s important to note he was not one of the group. We went up to the flat roof of the barracks. Several old, stained mattresses were leaned against the parapet, loosely covered in plastic tarps to protect against rain and bird shit. We pulled two, stripped, and sat down. And – as always happens with guys – when we slathered on tanning lotion, we both got raging hard-on’s. He looked at mine, I looked at his; we both shrugged and went for it.

Between this guy, my bunkmate, and the monthly jerk-off sessions with the group, I was one happy, busy bator.

On Wood

 and the Big Whack Attack

Guys get boners all their lives and as teenagers every one of us has probably suffered the Big Whack Attack. We get hard-ons regularly when we sleep, during the day, and morning wood is a given. As I mentioned earlier, it starts in the womb and never ends. But it’s never more of a problem than when we’ve hit puberty. From the time those first few little hairs start sprouting around our growing groins until we’re in our early twenties, our dicks just don’t seem to want to do anything but get hard. They’ll pop up at the strangest times without the slightest provocation: at the urinal to take a leak or shaking off that last drop, in the showers after gym class (that was always the worst!), walking from class to class, sitting in Algebra for Christ sake! I think mine was hard twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes a day.

If I didn’t get a chance to pound one out in a restroom stall, I’d get home from school and just have to whack off. Many a day my brother came home and found me stroking my rod so fast I could spark a fire with the friction. I swear, I could blow ten loads a day and still pop bone in a flash.

When I started to date I’d whack one before I left and I’d still get a raging hard-on during the evening. I’d get home, strip, drop to the bed and make myself cum twice before I could get to sleep. When I met the girl I eventually married, we’d fuck, or she’d give me a hand job, and she was amazed at how soon I was hard and urging her for another round. A lot of the time, I’d shoot my load and my dick wouldn’t even go down; it continued to stand there and twitch begging for more. Then I’d go home and stroke until I spewed again! We’re just horny mother-fuckers and, at this stage of life, our existence seems to be one whack attack after another.

We simply can’t help it. Our balls start to feel heavy and there’s a slight ache to them. The head of our dicks get really sensitive. Your underwear rubs against it when you move and makes it twitch. With each twitch, it gets a little harder. Before you know it, you’ve got a full-on boner, straining against your pants. Nagging. Nagging. Begging for attention. The dull ache in the balls increases. They want – no, they need – release. You’re not even cognizant of your hand drifting down to your crotch to squeeze. But when you do, an electric shock runs through your shaft right down into your balls. You get even harder. It’s snaked its way down one pant leg which is more than uncomfortable, it actually hurts. You try to adjust; to push it around, pull it up against your abdomen. The head of it, now extremely sensitive, gets caught against the waistband of your shorts and the whole shaft throbs. A tiny spurt of pre-cum shoots a slick pool against your skin. The head of your cock slips and slides in it, making it drool even more. Now you’ve got such a raging rod of steel, you can’t think of anything but relieving the unrelenting ache in your nuts.

(Sorry ladies, if you’re reading this but,) Ignoring that ache is not an option. That results in a severe case of what’s called Blue Balls or Lover’s Nuts. The blood and fluid which builds up in and around the testicles, actually makes them take on a dark-bluish hue. They get very heavy, and strain and stretch the scrotum which turns an ugly shade of bluish-red. Not only does it hurt like hell, it’s not healthy. Backed up fluids can cause a myriad of problems; infections of the testes, seminal vesicles and prostate. Balls can swell up to huge proportions if infected and are extremely painful. Infected seminal vesicles become inflamed and cause a sharp ache in the lower abdomen. Left unattended, a prostate infection can become so severe as to become blocked – and actually prevent a guy from being able to cum.

I had the thorough, humiliating displeasure of such an event. In such pain I couldn’t stand it anymore I made an appointment with an urologist. I told him my balls ached, but I couldn’t cum. He did the usual ball exam then had me bend me over the table to examine my prostate. He rolled over on his stool behind me. First one finger poked around, then two fingers, then three pressed and kneaded. Much to my consternation, I got a hard-on. I figured I’d pull my pants up before I turned around to face him. Ha! He kneaded and pressed for almost five minutes and my dick just kept getting harder and harder. He suddenly withdrew his fingers, grabbed my arm pulling me into a standing position, and spun me around to face him with my boner staring him right in the face. He wrapped a hand around it and milked along the shaft. After three or four strokes, my cock exploded in long, sickly smelling, yellow ropes. He continued to milk-stroke until the cum slowed to a drool. His white lab coat was splattered with it, it dripped down his neck, and there were little pools of cum all over the floor between us.

My face was hot from embarrassment. He nonchalantly stood, removed his coat, got a fist full of paper towels and handed me some as he wiped his neck. I wiped at my still dripping dick and he cleaned the floor. “Sorry about that. But it had to be done. Your prostate was completely blocked. You’ve got a severe prostate infection.” He handed me a prescription for antibiotics. “Take one a day for 14 days. Don’t miss any – you take them until they’re gone.” “Okay. Thanks.” “How often in a week do you and your wife have sex?” I shrugged, “Um, maybe once.” “Do you masturbate to supplement that?” “Sometimes.” He shook his head in disgust, “You need to cum more often than that. You should jack off at least twice during the week. Okay?” I stammered an okay – I mean, I wasn’t used to hearing a doctor say “cum” or tell me to “jack off.” “I don’t want to see you back here with this problem again. There’s no excuse for it.” He walked out of the room as I struggled to stuff my semi-hard cock back into my pants.

Lesson learned. I’m proud to say, I was able to tell my regular physician on the follow-up visit, I definitely wouldn’t be ignoring the signs anymore. His response? “Good. If you get horny, take care of it. It’s your body telling you what it needs. Don’t ever let it get that bad again.” Sir, yes sir! Those are orders I can follow. In fact, those are orders I will be happy to follow.

Now, whenever I start to get that heavy feeling in my nuts and they’re hanging real low, I make sure I find some time to give myself a treat. Afterwards, an incredible lightness of being washes over me. My rigid dick softens and my nuts, dropping back down in the sac, relieved of the pressure, feel light again; empty.

Hero of the Month

Whack-off Hero Award of the Month Award

We’ve got a new champion in the world of Bating! Let’s give a big, big, boner hand to Darius Paduch, M.D., Ph.D., associate professor of urology at Cornell University.



Whack-off Hero Award - Big Boner Hand



In this month’s issue of Men’s Health magazine, in a tiny little sidebar, Darius states, “I’ve seen men lose up to 2 inches off their erections because they didn’t have enough sex.” He then goes on to hand out a prescription to all men: Masturbate as often as you’d like to be having sex. “What really matters is having an adequate outlet. Your penis doesn’t care whether that outlet is sex or masturbation.”

We knew cumming doesn’t simply feel good – it’s good for you! And, now, evidently, they’re discovering “flexing” our cocks helps to maintain cock length. Dr. Paduch suggests flexing the bulbocavernosus (the muscle running along the perineum), which sends a signal to the brain to suppress arousal and make us last longer. Now that’s a nice little Hand(y) Hint for edging!

Because the good doctor has given us such great tips and is championing our activity, I give him the very first Whack-off Hero of the Month Award.

If you know of someone who deserves to be named, or you yourself would like to become, the Whack-off Hero of the Month send your submission(s) to whkattk@gmail.com.

Build a Better Boner

In another small sidebar, in the same issue of Men’s Health, Larry Lipschultz, M.D. professor of urology at Baylor College, shares this with us: If your erections are hard, but you want them harder and to last longer, the natural supplement Korean Red Ginseng offers the kind of boost you might be looking for. (Fine Print: Always consult with your physician before taking any OTC drug or vitamin; they may have an adverse reaction to any other meds you’re taking.)

If

If at first, you don’t succeed, try, try again.

Well I was around ten, in our shared room, the night I discovered my older brother stroking his meat. It kinda went like this: Rustle, rustle, rustle. In whispers: “Whatcha doing?” “Nothing.” Silence. Rustle, rustle, rustle. “Are too.” “None of your business. Go to sleep.” Silence for a few minutes. Rustle, rustle; the sound of blankets thrown off. Snap! And the room is basked in light, my brother in mid-stroke and a thick rope of white stuff shooting out of his cock. “Whoa…” ‘Course he couldn’t cover up without getting the sheets wet. So I watched as he finished coming; he heaved a contented sigh, his pumping slowed, and his cock wilted. “What’s that stuff?” As he wiped himself off with his t-shirt, “Jizz.” “Wow. That was so cool. Can I do it?” “You have to get a hard-on first. Does your peter get hard?” I lowered my pj bottoms, “Look for yourself.” “Well, you could jack, but you’re too young to make jizz.” “Will you show me how someday?” “I guess. Sure, but you can’t tell anyone, okay?” “Why?” “You just can’t. Especially mom or dad.” “Okay.” Snap! I flipped the switch that tossed the room into darkness again.

Over the next three years, not only did he jack off in bed every night while I pumped to dry orgasms, we would grab every opportunity we found to drop trou. In the garage, behind the garage, in the basement, hiking in the woods, in the schoolyard on weekends, anywhere in the house if no one else was home. It wasn’t more than a few weeks before he asked if I wanted to see how hard it got when he came. I found I liked the feel of his thick cock in my hand, the heft of his big nuts, and coaxed him into pumping my piston.

I was almost thirteen when I realized one of my brother’s buddies was also doing the deed. They were planning on going “hiking” the next day and agreed I could go along if I would jack them off once we got there. The next day we arrived at a small outcrop from the path, near a pond. Using a fallen tree for a bench, their boners were visible before zippers even got lowered. I was ordered to kneel before them, one at a time, between their spread legs and “get to work.” I switched from one throbbing cock and pair of heavy, swaying balls to the other, and they continued to pound away when I moved. Then my brother’s friend decided I had to do myself too. So, off came my clothes to match their full nakedness, even though my brother told him I wasn’t old enough to shoot yet. My brother was the first to blow his wad all over me; his buddy was a close second, blasting off within seconds of me grasping his meat in my cum-slicked hand. Then the strangest thing happened.

A good amount of his spunk drooled onto my little boner as I was wanking away on myself and I suddenly had this very strange sensation in my balls. I kinda hollered and moaned at the same time, my hips pushed forward of their own free will, and a long, hot stream shot out the end of my dick and splattered against his leg. I pumped until it stopped. “Holy shit, man. Your little brother just jizzed all over my leg.” I jizzed? Wow! That felt… great! My brother laughed and headed to the pond to clean his cock, “Hey, little brother! Congratulations, kid. How does it feel?” “Really… does it always feel that good? My balls feel light now, kinda an empty feeling.” “But it’s a good empty, right?” I cupped them, “Yeah.”

Worship

 the Self

It’s been said many times: In order to love someone else, you must first learn to love yourself. It’s true when it comes to sex as well. Whacking off can be a great learning tool. Grabbing your tool in a generously greased-up hand and stroking to the very brink of blasting a load will teach you how to last longer with a partner. You can learn to recognize that ‘point of no return;’ the time at which you lose control over the involuntary muscle contractions which force the man-juice along its path to freedom. In fact, it’s an exercise given to men who suffer from premature ejaculation. You bring yourself to the brink and back off, allowing your body to relax and cool things off a bit before resuming. In the world of JO call this “edging.”

The homework assignment for sufferers of PE is to concentrate on the sensations as you play with yourself. You learn how to recognize the signs of impending ejaculation: The pre-cum is flowing freely. You feel your cock start to generate more intense heat, warmth radiating from its girth. You notice it become harder and the head turn a dark red, bordering on purplish. This is where we coined the term “rock hard” – because your entire rod thickens and lengthens and literally becomes a burgeoning, pulsating piece of flesh; harder than you thought possible. You feel your balls pulling up close, in preparation of emptying their seed. Your leg muscles tense and contract. When you feel the pelvic muscles flex and the perineum, or ‘taint’ as it’s sometimes called (it’s the area between your ballsac and your butt hole), tighten you’re over the edge.

There are other lessons to be learned in self-pleasure. Like what feels good to you. You can explore your body for your own most sensitive erogenous zones. Do you like your pectorals to be kneaded and your nipples to be pinched and played with? For many men this is a surprisingly sensual feeling. I say “surprisingly” because so many guys think tit play is something guys do for women. Guys, guys, guys… Our breasts and nipples are just as sensitive.

We’ve got many erogenous zones on our bodies; play and discover yours. The nape of the throat, earlobes, abdomen… We are so much more than our cocks. (It might surprise you ladies who stopped in, to know the one thing guys want and get very little of when with a female partner is ball play.) Our balls are great fun to play with. Bouncing them playfully in a palm, squeezing them (gently, for god sake!!), massaging them.

Now, most men don’t like to think about this, but in the heat of the moment it sure does feel awesome to push, externally or internally, on the prostate, now known to be the male g-spot. Just as we’re about to cum, it will guarantee a final, exquisitely awesome push over the precipice.

These are all the things men can learn when they JO and help them become better lovers..

There are so many different ways to masturbate. And there are tons of sites dedicated to learning different techniques. So I’ll leave that to them and just point you to a couple of the better ones. BateWorld is a terrific resource. Guys of all persuasions, gay, straight, bi, curious guys, are there and very able and willing to share their experience. JackinWorld is another good site – although it tends to be on the tame side; a lot of teens frequent this one due to the wealth of information available there on the basics.

The old adage is: practice makes perfect. ‘Til next time, “Practice, bros, practice.”

Stroking

is as natural as eating.

That male chromosome embeds the code so deep into our core, males get hard-ons in the womb and sonogram technicians have witnessed male fetuses masturbating!! Getting our nut is as natural a need as eating.

It’s healthy and good for us. And it beats the hell out of a wet dream any day.

Think about it this way: It gets our hearts beating faster and our pulses racing, so it becomes terrific cardio exercise; we breathe hard as we’re about to come, so we get a pulmonary workout; our muscles tense and contract, which becomes an isometric workout; spewing the load relaxes us and reduces stress, lowering our blood pressure; coming on a regular basis reduces the risk of prostate cancer; it gives us pleasure and feels good, beginning to end. And, my gosh! how fewer people would be in this world if it weren’t for the ability for a guy to slip into a room and squirt into a tiny bottle? (I’ve had first-hand experience, pun intended, in this area.) How many guys wouldn’t have been able to pay for college, or at least pump up the beer budget, by making deposits at the local sperm bank? Why, many couples would be childless. How can any of this be “evil?”

Most of us discover the joys of beating off as young boys. By the age of thirteen, at the latest, we’ve stumbled across the stroking of our hard cocks with the fist of a hand and are able to blow a wad. If we’re lucky enough, perhaps an older brother or friend finds it in their heart to give instructions and/or a demonstration. Damn few men had (or have) fathers who’re open enough to talk about this secretive activity, much less teach us how. Sad really, isn’t it?

I mean, for such a universal thing, it’s still not talked about openly. I hope that changes. Recently Adam & Eve, the on-line adult store, released results of a poll they conducted through their website. It revealed that 87% of respondents admitted they jack off. (We can only assume [hope?] the other 13% were lying!) The highest percentage admitted to doing it one or two times per week, but a still fairly large number admitted it was a daily activity. Perhaps, we’re finally coming out of the closet with this issue.

So, if you’ve stopped by and read this opening statement, I hope it has encouraged you to get naked, break out your favorite lube, lay back and enjoy what nature put between your legs.

‘Til the next installment, Stroke On, brothers, Stroke On.