Gather Around Kiddies, Grandpa Has a Story to Tell and He's Real Proud of This One

They say some of the greatest discoveries are stumbled upon by accident. While my greatest discovery was thoroughly accidental, I wouldn't say I stumbled upon it.. more like jerked my way to it.

I've been wacking off since the third grade. Okay thats a lie, second grade. There I said it. Yeah, that may be TMI at first, but I think its rather indicative of some creative thinking on my part. I discovered wacking off. Yeap, little boy Einstein put 2 and 2 together to make one big joyous 4. In turn my cherised equation has produced many, many 4's, all which have been transcribed on the backs of various napkins and tissues. But in all truth, back then I didn't even know what an orgasm was, nor did I know what it was for, or what part of my body felt it. I was simply playing with my dick one day when things started to feel way cool. "This is starting to feel gooder!" Little Second Grade Me thought. "I must explore this goodness, choo choo!". Little did I know what goodness lay ahead... Goodness to the extreme.

*3 seconds to departure.*

So there I am, giving myself the ole' down up down up when my shit, unexpected as a theif in the night, goes off. It hit me like a ton of bricks. The feeling... not the semen. The sensation exploded like an H bomb, spreading its supersonic shockwaves of unimaginable goodness around my entire Hiroshima region. I think i may have even lost my vision for a second. And if I may be extremely candid for a moment, it was a dry-load - my balls hadn't even dropped yet. Go get em tiger.

I stood up looking as if I had just dreamt of being anal probed and was trying to figure out which state of consciousness I was in; but knew I wasn't dreaming. I was experiencing something real, something very very real - I was feeling a newfound love for my penis and my hand. Oh my blessed, blessed hand. On top of this rapturous sensation I was embraced by a consequential "aftershock" which resonated throughout my penis. It was a subtle yet pleasant sensation my penis was sending out, notifying the rest of my body that the dragon has awoke, and is now breathing fire.

A bead of sweat dripped down my forehead, signifying my baptism into a new life...

So there's my story kids. I was the Louis and Clark of masturbation. Excuse me, I feel a bit nostalgic right now, there's nothing quite like the first time. But I find it rather funny how no one talks about their first time wacking off, yet they're quick to detail that one fateful night when their voice dropped a whole octave and they found out the smell of Sally Fuckalot's snatch refused to come off their fingers. But in all honesty, I recall my first time greasing the pole in technicolor vibrancy as compared to my first time fucking. But then again, the unparalleled intimacy shared between me and my right hand might explain this little discrepancy of recollection. It's just so damn... faithful to me.

I've never understood why some guys don't talk about wacking off. It's not like you're joining some secret society by talking about it; perhaps it may feel that way in light of such a "secret", kept hidden like a stash of bondage. But you're really just admitting "Hey I'm a guy. I have at least one hand and a penis" and that's all. I think perhaps the main reason most men don't want to say anything is because of the visuals. Those lonely, lonely visuals. That left hand bracing the wall, that right hand pumping faster than the eye can fully see, those eyes darting back reaching for concentration... you look like a fucking retard. But I don't care about the visuals, fuckit... I"ll smile for the camera. Hi my name is Greg, this is my shower. Cheese motherfuckers... cheese.