It wasn’t my school, unfortunately, but a friend told me of a boy who achieved a hell of a reputation when he was about 13, and kept it going until he left. Which wasn’t very long, really, for reasons that will become obvious shortly. Before I tell you how he achieved fame, or notoriety more like, I should modestly remind you that I’ve never had much difficulty either achieving or maintaining a healthy erection. Not since I was 11.
No, that’s not entirely true. I was once catheterised in hospital after a bit of a nasty accident, nothing to do with my sexual practices before you ask, and while it didn’t last that long, I don’t think I could have got it up with a plastic tube sticking out of it even if I’d wanted to, which given the circumstances was not my primary desire.
Not that it was that long once I was free before I started stirring again. The nice thing about hospitals, I discovered, is that there are sometimes pretty male nurses as well as female ones. Consequently, it wasn’t long before I amazed the medical profession by being up and about, as you might say. After a period of inactivity, one does worry so . . .
Now while I think I have a reasonably satisfactory track record in erection maintenance, all done without Viagara I’d like to point out, I could never manage what this boy did to find fame, and, out of the other lads’ pocket money, a small fortune as well. Once I’m hard, I can actually manage fairly easily to get my cock thrusting up and down an inch or so without using my hands, rope, chains or other artificial aids. But this boy could do what I’ve never been able to and I’ve tried.
It wasn’t that he could get his erection going without using his hands—that’s not too difficult after all—though on second thoughts, quite a few guys I’ve come across in this video lark seem to find handsfree operation in that field as tricky as a lot of car drivers do with their mobile phones. He could do that, get it throbbing mightily, and come. He could have done it with his hands tied behind his back, but I gather he wasn’t a fetishist.
I haven’t come across that since the days when I had wet dreams. At least I presume I came without a firm grip on my cock, but since I was always asleep at the time I couldn’t swear to it. Now that boy’s trick I would have liked to have seen. I’d still like to see it. If you can do it, it might just be worth blowing my cherished blog anonymity for. Email me!
Oh, in the midst of my admiration, I forgot. You’re probably wondering why his stay at that school was cut short. It seems the headmaster didn’t approve of that kind of entrepreneurial capitalism. Or maybe he just didn’t approve of wanking. They often don’t. The name of the school he was next to go to was never divulged. Presumably for fear half the boys would pester their parents to be allowed to follow . . .
I've not been a well boy the last few weeks; and I'm very, very weary now.
I need to concentrate what energy (and time) I'm going to have left—rather less of both than I thought until earlier this year—on doing things that are really important rather than messing about with blogs.
Now don't panic if you think you might have slept with me: that's because it's the way my little physical disability is panning out, not because of AIDs or anything.
But there won't be any new posts because of that. Sorry.
