He used to grab my hand and put inside of his shorts, so I could give him a hand job. When we were sitting on a table, he would make sure to sit by my side so he could pull his stiff hard cock off his shorts and show it off to me, the head was always dripping. Jorge always found a way to pass, walk by me and rub his cock against my body. His smile and look would get me hard instantly. Jorge was tall, beautiful curly hair, smooth tan skin, and the most sensual provocative smile that I ever had seen on a man. Jorge was at least 5 years older than us and I was very attracted to him. Many times when I visited her, we played board games our favorite was “Risk”, and her brother Jorge many times played with us. Our families were very close, and they still are to this day. I ignored…like we learn to ignore many things in life.īut my best friend was a girl name Cristina and we were very close friends. My grandmother used to say that I took a long time in the shower, washing myself, implying that I was a dirty boy! My grandmother spoke to us with indirect remarks she made all of us very uncomfortable with that approach.
My sisters were always fighting with me, to get me out of the bathroom we only had 2 bathrooms in the house. The first time I shot a load of cum…I was so shocked…and then masturbated 10 more times. The early years of masturbation where very painful, but I could not stop…the sensation was overwhelming exciting. When I was not playing with the boys, I was taking a shower and masturbating. Later many boys want to play hide and seek with me, the line was big…I begin selecting the ones that I would play with. But after many many many times…I decide to say yes, and I felt a tingling that cause me to discover the joys of masturbation. Safe to say that we began to play this game many time, the only thing that started to change was that he kept asking me to remove my pants…I always said no. It looked odd at first, I didn’t understand what was happening, but one thing I knew…I was enjoying it! Later he said…I could not tell that to anyone…and I never did (until now!). Fabiano said that he wanted to rub his body against me…I said: Why? And his response was…like this! – He begins to dry humping me…and I felt a tingling in my body that I never felt before (I never forget that tingle on my dick). During the game, Fabiano and I hid together in a small room, more likely a walk-in closet. We played the 3 of us together for quite sometime, and later we were playing hide and seek. One day I went to Alexandre’s house, ringed the intercom and his brother Fabiano buzzed me in.
I was very close to my friend Alexandre that lived 2 houses down the street. Birthday parties at those days were incredibly fun, with so many games and lots of playing around.
We lived in a neighborhood with tons of kids, and we were all friends. I created tunnels on the ground, complete cities, where I pushed my car-toys…making vroom-vroom sounds…as if the motor was running. I had a very vivid imagination I used to play under the mango tree, making tons of little animals out of toothpick and baby mangos that felt on the ground. We had a large backyard, with tons of trees that I used to climb with my brother and laugh a lot. We lived in the suburbs, and I used to play outside all the time. I never believe in organized religion, so I was a good boy, but a bad catholic, I always question the reasoning for the beliefs. We were six kids, me the youngest, the one that always questioned everything. I never liked guns, to this day, they make me uncomfortable, but my father had plenty. If any of us heard the word: disgrace, we would walk out of the room as fast as we could…it meant: Run for your life, the world is about to end! Later my father became the head of the security and safety of the governor, so we were always surrounded by chauffeurs and lots of men with guns. My father used that word only in tragic moments, and the tone the he used would ice and shake the whole house, you could feel in your bones when he said it. The heaviest and most intense word used in our home was “disgrace”. We were always supposed to refer to our mother as “Madam” (Senhora) and our father as “Sir” (Senhor)- and I still do to this day! Profanity and vulgar words were never part of our family vocabulary. My mother was an accountant for the federal tax agency in Brazil, my father a military man, the Captain, as everyone referred to him. Grandmother lived with us, so she kept us in line when our parents were out working, earning a living. We had a maid, a cook and the laundry lady. We were a typical catholic middle-class family in Brazil.