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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2066927-The-Experience
Rated: XGC · Non-fiction · Experience · #2066927
I be 13. I do not know what masturbation is.
The Experience

The sunshine spilled through the trees and sparkled on the moving water as I patiently reeled my line in slowly, the worm wriggling on the end of my hook as it was dragged through the water by my line. I had found what I considered a likely spot to catch fish. There were sunken logs in the water and the river churned against the bank as it flowed in a deep wide curving arc underneath my feet and back out into the center of the river again. The Rainbow trout liked the deep cool water.
The bright red and white bobber was coming up out of the water as I slowly cranked my reel round and round. The worm followed on the hook 6 or 8 inches later. I carefully raised the rod high over my head and threw it forward with a powerful snap as I depressed the casting button on the reel. The line hummed as the worm sailed high through the air arcing out over the water and landing with a small splash out in the middle of the river just upstream of my position. There was a soft “click” as I released the casting button and turned the crank half a turn taking up the slack in the line. The red and white bobber floated peacefully downstream as it moved with the current. And although I couldn’t see it I knew my worm dangled underneath it wriggling about as it tried to get off the hook.
Ah, what a beautiful afternoon for fishing. It was towards the end of September and there was a light breeze afoot. The temperature was a comfortable sixty something degrees and the sun splashed warmth and comfort about as it sparkled off the river and filtered down through the leaves of the trees. I was in my element. I was outdoors-man extrordinaire!
The bobber suddenly disappeared underneath the surface. I reflexively jerked back on the rod setting the hook. It bent over low as the fish pulled hard in the opposite direction. I had one. I quickly pulled back on the rod and then let it fall forward as I quickly cranked up the slack in the line. There was a splash as the fish jumped out of the water in an effort to escape the hook. I took in more slack. Soon I had him at my feet. Reaching down with a net I scooped him out of the water. A nice Brown Trout probably 8 or 10 inches long. I carefully removed the hook from his mouth and fed him onto a stringer I had with me. Then poking around in a small cottage cheese container of dirt I found another fat worm and began threading him onto my hook.
The wind rustled the leaves. The line whirred again as another worm sailed out over the water. A soft “click”. The line draws tight. The bobber begins to drift. I’m one with the fishing rod. I’m one with nature. I drink in the beauty all around me. I’m content. I’m fishing on the AuSable river. What more could one ask for? The bobber disappears again. This time it’s a small Blue Gill. I throw him back in. He’s too small and besides I’m more interested in Trout. Next a respectable looking Rainbow Trout that is definitely twelve inches if not fourteen. I add him to my stringer.
Fingers plunge into the warm black dirt extracting another worm, another whir as the line feeds out allowing the worm a spectacular death defying ride out over the water. A soft “click” as the reel engages and the line draws taught.
I look out over the water as streaks of golden orange and yellow reflect off of it. The sun no longer in the sky flickers and winks at me through the trees on the opposite side of the river. The day is coming to an end. A twig snaps. I look up. My cousin Harvey is standing on the trail.
“Well, I’ve caught three. How many you get?”, he asks as he reaches down and pulls my stringer out of the water.
“I think it’s four”, I say. “They’ve been biting pretty good right here where the river cuts under the bank.”
“Wow, look at that nice Rainbow!”, He exclaims as he stands up straight with my string of fish.
“Yeah, he’s the last one I caught. He is a beaut though isn’t he?”, I rise to my feet and begin reeling in my line. Clearly we have enough for supper and we’re running out of daylight. What a great afternoon of fishing I muse to myself as we head back to camp.
It was really nice of our bus driver to invite us to go camping on the AuSable. What a great guy! He had asked us if we wanted to go camping earlier in the week suggesting that we could go after school on Friday and he would return us to our parents on Saturday. It sounded like a great idea and we had enthusiastically asked our parents for permission to go. So here we were. We had gone home with him after school in the bus. Upon arriving at his place we simply hopped out and into his pick-up truck. He had it all packed and ready to go. An hour or so later we were at the campsite on the AuSable river. We had wanted to go fishing so he set us up with the fishing rods and bait. Told us if we caught any fish he would clean and cook them for supper. If not he assured us he had “back-up” food. We both knew how to fish and had no intentions of him having to dig out his back-up food whatever it might have been.
We gleefully entered the campsite holding our fish high and announcing that we would be eating Trout for supper tonight! He seemed quite pleased with the catch and set about cleaning them straight away. Soon they were seasoned and frying in a cast iron pan over the camp fire. He had set the tent up and had started a fire going while we were out fishing. It wasn’t long before we were all dining on fresh trout that had been swimming in the river no more than 4 hours ago. It tasted absolutely superb! I don’t know if that was because we had caught them ourselves or if it was due to our bus drivers excellent culinary skill in cooking them or if it was simply the circumstances. The three of us alone in the woods eating delicious pan fried trout that we had caught while sitting around a smoky campfire as the sun set below the horizon. A perfect ending to a perfect day! I felt absolutely blissful and content.
Following supper we roasted a few marshmallows, sang a few campfire songs and told a few scary stories but soon the embers of our campfire had died down and the night air had taken on a distinct chill. It was time for bed. So we piled into the tent.
I sat down and glanced around as I began to pull off my shoes. Our bus driver had laid out the sleeping bags with his in the middle. My cousin’s lay over against the far left wall of the tent and mine lay against the right wall. I had figured on my cousin and I sleeping next to each other so we could talk and gossip during the night. But we were both tired and we figured maybe he put his in the middle so he’d have more leg room. I placed my shoes at the foot of my sleeping bag and stood up to take off my dirty jeans. They were a bit muddy from the fishing earlier in the day. The mud had dried in places while sitting around the campfire. I stepped outside the tent and vigorously brushed them off. Then stepping back inside I took them off and folded them up placing them next to my shoes. I took off my long sleeve shirt and placed it on top of my jeans. I then dove inside my sleeping bag. Pulled the opening up tight around my neck and soon it was all warm and cozy inside. I lay there listening to the crickets.
Our bus driver finished with his task of dousing the fire climbed into the tent and began to undress for bed. He climbed into his sleeping bag and asked us if we had enjoyed ourselves? We both answered with an enthusiastic, “Yes!”, and then proceeded to tell him our favorite parts of the afternoon. But we were both tuckered out and soon we began to yawn and it wasn’t long after that we rolled over and went to sleep.
I was in that halfway place between sleep and wakefulness when I sensed a hand on my belly. It tightened its grip and rolled me onto my back. I was half asleep, half awake. I lay there trying to find my way out of the sleepy fog I was in. Where was I? Oh, camping... That’s right I’m camping with my cousin Harvey and our bus driver on the AuSable. My foggy mind reeled as I tried to think. I was sleeping so what woke me up?
I lay still. The crickets were chirping. A hand was sliding under the waistband of my underwear. A chill ran down my spine. Fingers closed around my penis and began to fondle it. I immediately became hard. Who’s hand was touching me? It had to be the bus drivers... But why? Was he gay? I had heard about being gay. I was 13 years old and can recall having had a few wet dreams but I had no idea what masturbation was or even how to do it. I had never been shown by any of my peers nor had been told about it. I had no idea what he was doing or why? I decided to roll over. That would move me out of reach. I rolled toward the tent wall. I could feel my hard penis slide through his fingers as the move caught him by surprise. Then he rolled over closer to me and his big hand closed over my rib cage as he firmly rolled me back over onto my back. Then a 2nd hand entered my sleeping bag and pressed down on my chest as the first hand moved back down over my belly and grasped my underwear in the crotch. Its fingers closed down around my stiff cock but instead of trying to fondle it they pulled on the underwear gathering a clump of them into their fingers and pulling hard as the hand moved down the length of my legs. I could feel my underwear sliding down over my legs and then he released them as they reached my ankles. I felt them settle down around my feet as his hand moved swiftly back up to my penis and gripped it firmly. I struggled to sit up but his other hand pressed down on my chest. He was doing something to my penis, I had no idea what! Strange sensations began to pulse through me. This was crazy! I just wanted to get away from him. I decided to roll over and curl up really tight into a fetal position. Surely he wouldn’t be able to get at me if I rolled up really tight? I rolled to the side and brought my knees up over my chest. I wrapped them in my arms and hugged them tight. His 2nd hand having never left my chest simply pulled me back over onto my back. I pulled my knees even tighter to my chest. His arm pressed so tight between my legs and chest he could barely move it. He pulled his arm free. Good I thought. But then he reached around my thighs and slipped his hand in between my legs sliding it down to my groin where he found my little hard penis which is exactly what he was looking for. He grabbed it firmly pulling it out between my legs and began pumping his hand up and down vigorously. He pumped so hard that his hand smacked against the underside of my thighs making a slapping sound. Suddenly I felt as though I needed to pee. I clamped down hard with my pelvic muscles. I certainly didn’t want to pee the bed! Shivers ran up my spine. They exploded in my head causing it to float away from my body. What was happening to me? What was he doing to me? And why?
I felt the sensation of my bladder about to let loose. I clamped down hard to keep from peeing. But the harder I clamped down with my pelvic muscles the stronger the urge became and the shivers running up my spine were now waves of sheer energy. I flopped back and let go of my knees as a wave washed over my whole body. I could feel the cool air on my damp skin. I was sweating but why? I really had to go pee and I wasn’t going to be able to hold it much longer. I thought maybe I should say something. Maybe warn him I was about to piss all over him. But why bother. It was going to be all his fault anyway. My mind raced but I was so overwhelmed with sensory input I had no idea what to think or what was important.
Then I felt another wave beginning but this was not like the other waves. This one built up within me like a giant tidal wave. My fingers went numb, my toes involuntarily curled shut, my butt came up off the ground as my entire torso arched high into the air! I felt my penis become hard as steel in his grasp and then everything broke loose! I felt wave after wave of sheer unbidden pleasure wash through me as I felt my pelvic muscles contract over and over again. I had absolutely no control over my body as it arched and spasmed. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. And while I felt pleasure on one level I felt conflict and torment within me on so many other levels. What had he done to me? It didn’t feel right. I lay sweating and exhausted sprawled out over my now unzipped sleeping bag. A deep funky smell hung in the air. He continued to pump my penis up and down but now he seemed to have applied some lotion? I had no idea when he had done that as I didn’t recall him stopping for anything. But clearly my penis was now well lubricated and as a result his hand began pumping faster and faster. I began to feel the waves of sensation again, the need to pee again, my muscles contracting involuntarily in waves of pleasure again. I just wanted it to end. I had tried to get away from him but to no avail. He was much stronger than I was and clearly he wasn’t about to let me go anywhere so I just lay there as the waves of my next orgasm began to build.
I wouldn’t say I was a completely sheltered child when it came to understanding the birds and the bees but I had only a rudimentary understanding of it. I knew a man had to have intercourse with a woman in order to have a child and I understood that meant inserting the penis into the woman’s vagina where the man would ejaculate the sperm to fertilize the woman’s egg. But no one had ever bothered to explain what an orgasm was or that it was required to ejaculate the sperm. I understood sex was supposed to be pleasurable but I had no idea it involved what I was going through right now.
I did understand on some intellectual level that he was forcing me to “have sex” but I wasn’t totally sure what that meant in the current context since there was no woman involved. It all ended up being very confusing for me. I was trying to understand what was going on but I couldn’t think straight. The next thing I knew my body betrayed me again as wave after wave of muscle contractions caused me to squirt sperm high into the air as I felt my strong pelvic muscles flex and channel the semen into my rock hard penis! I closed my eyes tight in an effort to block it all out of my mind. I felt hot jets of heat as the semen fell back down onto my stomach and chest area. I felt his large hand glide over my stomach smearing the semen across my skin as it swept up the side of my rib cage across my chest and back down the other side his fingers gliding up and down over my ribs. It was then that I realized he had not put any lotion on me earlier. He was using my semen as lotion! He continued to smear my semen all over me squeezing my penis to get every last drop out of it. Both hands large and strong roved over my pubic, stomach and chest areas first smearing the semen all over me and then rubbing it in until it no longer offered any lubricating properties. He ended by fondling my penis again but it was unresponsive to his ministrations and he finally left it alone moving down further to fondle my balls. I lay perfectly still wondering how long before he would be done. It seemed as though he were winding down.
He then laid down beside me and reached over taking one of my hands he placed it on top of his penis. I remember it being large and warm. Oddly enough it was not hard. I lay there thinking, “Why did he just put my hand on his penis? He must want me to play with it like he did to me. Yes, that must be it.” But I had no idea what he had done to me. I had no idea what was required to stimulate a penis. I had never masturbated and did not understand the mechanics of it. I know that may sound crazy but it is the absolute truth. I had no idea that night what was needed to pleasure him. I did play with his penis for a few minutes since it was obvious to me that is what he wanted. It did get semi-hard at one point but after awhile I gave up trying and let my hand drop to my side as I lay there beside him. I lay still looking straight up into the dark. What just happened? My mind was all jumbled and reeling from shock.
I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I knew I awoke with streams of sunshine flooding through the tent canvas. The bus driver was up and had the fire going with flap jacks sizzling in the cast iron pan. We had breakfast and then packed up to leave. Not a word was said about last night.
A year or so later I did bring the subject up with my cousin Harvey and he admitted that the bus driver had masturbated him that night as well. At the time he speculated that it was blood that came out of his penis. I disagreed with him and tried to explain that it was semen as I had studied up on the subject following the assault for my own informational needs. He still insisted he believed it was blood.
Many years later I discovered through chance that my cousin Harvey did not have his testicles descend properly during puberty. I believe only one descended and improperly at that. At some point he had corrective surgery to fix the hernia. I now believe that perhaps a blood vessel was distressed in such a way as to leak blood into his semen thus making him believe that it was blood he was ejaculating.
We also discussed the 2nd camping trip which we were both foolish enough to go on and were able to confirm that our bus driver while nice in many ways was one sexually warped dude. But that is a whole other story for another time.
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