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[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]My response also served to not only reverse their slick peer pressure back onto them, but it also served to expose their attempts to identify "faggots" and tell everyone they could find and, sometimes, wanting to bring violence to the table. In my early days in the new neighborhood, there wasn't much in the way of sexual peer pressure being applied or attempted but that didn't mean that there weren't a lot of guys in this new hood who, privately, wouldn't object to having sex with another guy - but would, publicly, let everyone within the sound of their voice know that they didn't believe in that shit and any guy who was needed to have his ass kicked and brutally so.

On this side of town, we had three gangs who loved to fight and there were quite a few validated stories where a guys suspected or accused of being a faggot would get cornered by gang members and either beaten badly... or gang raped then beaten badly. The word on the street was that if some gang members approached you and applied pressure to you to submit to having sex with them, it would be in your best interest to just let them do whatever they wanted since all three gangs were known and suspected of killing people for defying them in anything. Outside of this, however, there wasn't much in the way of "kinder" peer pressure put on guys to have sex with other guys.

There was just the guys you'd hang out with and some guys you knew well enough that if the question of having sex with each other came up, there was no pressure to go through with it; if you wanted to and he did, fine but, if not, that was okay, too. And it seemed to me that wherever I traveled in the city, the same conditions existed in that daring a guy to suck a dick or whatever was going by the wayside in teens, still very much alive in pre-teens and, upon reaching 16, almost nonexistent amongst guys but, then again, we were applying a lot of peer pressure on girls to give up the pussy to us - but that was considered to be normal and, sometimes, a complete waste of time since girls weren't all that likely to give it up to us and even at the risk of being labeled a dyke or some other kind of lesbian.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]So while peer pressure and being dared to do something that would guarantee one would get their ass kicked was often walked away from, when it came to doing the nasty with each other, I'd have to say that there weren't many guys who wouldn't cave in to what I'll call the light peer pressure put upon them if they wanted to hang out with us.

Guys would come and go but until the year I turned 13 the core group of us remained intact. Some guys moved away, other guys would move into our neighborhood and the cycle would be repeated if they wanted to hang out with us... but I wasn't of a mind to put any peer pressure on a new guy I might run into but when they asked what they'd have to do to be able to hang out with the rest of us, I'd tell them and I guess it was just my luck that when I'd tell them that if they wanted to hang out with us as a group, they had to do the nasty with us... and the guy would be more than eager to participate in the initiation. Now, that didn't mean that we'd all gather together and initiate the new guy; that only happened maybe three times and then because the new guy happened to find us and ask, "What are y'all doing?" - then he'd find out what he had stumbled into.

One on one initiations were... kinder and The Questions would be asked: Have you ever done it with a boy and do you wanna do it? While I knew that some guys would wind up doing it because of peer pressure, if I asked a new guy The Questions and the answers were no and no, it was no big deal to me and I'd learn to let the new guy know that some of my other friends might dare him to do it. Sometime the answers were no and no... but the next day, the new guy I met yesterday would tell me that he's never done it with a boy... but he now wants to do it with me and I was more than okay with that. If he didn't know how to do it, I'd teach him how to do it but it never surprised me if a new guy already knew how to do it to another boy.

Because I was learning that doing it to other boys wasn't just something that was happening in my neighborhood; I learned that being initiated and the application of peer pressure wasn't just a thing me and my friends would invoke. I'd make a new friend and go visit with him and would, more often than not, be hit with The Dare from his friends but since they were daring me to do something I just loved to do, peer pressure would be negated. I'd "figured out" that the easiest way to avoid this particular form of peer pressure - and to also avoid getting into fights - was to, in those situations, just do what I liked doing.

I learned that when my family moved to a new neighborhood across town - and while I was away at summer camp - shit... I found myself tossed into a neighborhood full of guys who were "masters" at applying peer pressure and mostly in the areas of fighting, stealing or, again, other forms of mischief that would sometimes involve the police. I very much remember the first day I went outside after finding out that we had move into the projects and was challenged to fight and, well, I wasn't gonna do that but, yeah, wound up fighting five guys... and wiped the ground with them because what they didn't know was that I was trained in the martial arts. There was one guy who was as trained as I was and they were trying to get us to fight... and we didn't because we were well-trained not to... but that was my initiation to the peer pressure in my new neighborhood.

Having sex with my new peers wasn't what I'd call easy but they were "nice enough" to point out to me the guys in the neighborhood that were known or suspected of having sex with other guys and warning me to stay away from them and in line with the growing sense of homophobia that was spreading around the city. Those who were into it would ask The Questions but as I'd run into them - but not purposely - some were pretty bold in that they wouldn't ask The Questions but, as a kind of dare, would tell me that if they knew me better, they'd suck my dick or whatever - then sit back and see how I was going to react but, being the kind of guy I was, they'd often get shocked when I'd say, "Okay - where and when?" Now the pressure had been reversed and put on them to put up or shut the fuck up and, I dunno, maybe they were used to their form of sexual peer pressure making guys run for the hills?[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Between the ages of 9 and 16, I was well and truly very deep into having sex with guys and so much that it would take someone a whole lot to get me naked to do something so, as such, the peer pressure that became evident didn't affect me at all... but I can't say the same thing about other guys. Our cadre of horny motherfuckers had grown from three of us to ten and in a matter of weeks and while some of us "happily volunteered" to do the nasty with each other, some of the guys relented and gave in to peer pressure after being dared to, usually, kiss another guy's dick or take it into their mouth and suck it... or lie down to be screwed in the butt.

You could see how it affected some guys and, well, they'd be scared to do anything that looked like the one thing us boys were told never to do but, at the same time, they didn't want to not be friends with any of us and none of us were of a mind to not accept a dare because if you did, the whole neighborhood would find out in a hurry that you were a chicken and a yellow-bellied coward - and those, along with other such taunts, would be fighting words.

If you wanted to hang out with us, being initiated was a given and pretty much par for the course and peer pressure played a huge role in our initiation methods and they were... simple: Have sex with one of us and you're in; refuse to and you're out and everyone else was going to find out that you're a chicken. It "made sense" in a way but by the time there were 15 of us horny fuckers, eh, it would often make me feel bad to see some new kid who wanted to hang out with us be subjected to our brand of peer pressure and, clearly, they were scared to death to give into it. And for those who didn't, they were warned that if they told anyone what we were doing, well, I think you can guess what was promised to them.

Not to worry though - we never carried out the threat to beat them up but the threat also served to get guys who weren't all that willing to participate in our sexual romps to cave in and romp right along with the rest of us. It would surprise me at times to hear that a guy would first refuse to be initiated in our "gang" but then he would be and, often and literally crying and bawling about it but once they submitted to the sex - normally sucking dick - many were fully on board. By the time there was 20 of us, there wasn't a single one of us who weren't sucking dick and, when we all got to that point - swallow sperm and, likewise, there weren't any of us who didn't engage in sticking it in someone's butt and, in turn, getting it stuck in our own butts.

Even the guys who were eager to be fucked and would say, "Okay, but don't stick it in too far!" would, eventually, drop that condition and urge whomever was screwing them to stick it in and as far as they could get it. There were other examples where peer pressure would come into play and sex wasn't involved and even us guys in the gang weren't of a mind to let peer pressure get us to do something that would get us in a world of trouble, like being dared to go into a store and steal something or other acts of mischief because, back then, we were a village; if an adult caught us doing something we shouldn't have been doing, not only would they scold us for it - and rat us out to our parents - they would beat our asses, take us home, rat us out, and our asses would get beaten again.

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I have been wondering for quite some time what it feels like to pleasure another man, and to experience the taste of his cum. I have talked to my wife about this, and she “seems” to be “onboard”. I do NOT se ,yself having sex with another man, BUT, I really need to answer this for myself.

We live in a world where physical comfort is so abundant that it can seem that we are purchasing an unhealthy body. Men's health is declining in many ways, one of which is their failure to engage in physical activities that are essential to their overall well-being.

Men used to be the family's primary breadwinners, and they handled much of the household chores outside the home, such as walking to work or building stuff.

Men kept themselves occupied with one or more physical ...

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]That was about the time when I first started to wonder what my jizz tasted like. I knew I liked tasting someone else's jizz, well, most of the time; I also knew that those who tasted my jizz either liked it or they didn't and while the thought about what mine tasted like would flash through my mind at times, my current problem really had me thinking about what it tasted like and, being the smart kid I was, it was easy to put it all together and realized that if I tasted it after I shot it, problem solved.

That's also when I found out that it's kinda hard to taste your own stuff after you shoot it. I couldn't wait to try it, hid out in the bathroom and jerked myself furiously and - pow - here comes the stuff; it's all over my fingers and all I had to do was to suck it off my fingers... and it was making me want to throw up just thinking about doing it but I made myself do it. It was warm, kinda salty, kinda sweet on my tongue; I swallowed... and threw it up and, shit, got my mom's attention when she asked me why I was throwing up and was I okay. I lied my ass off and said that my spit went down the wrong pipe and I was okay but I was both disappointed and determined to do this and, later that night, I went to the bathroom, jerked off, shot my jizz in my hand and on my fingers, took a deep breath, and licked it all up, swallowed it... and it stayed down.

Success! Doing that felt good and nasty; not quite the same when I'd suck a guy's dick and he'd shoot jizz in my mouth and not really that easy to do but like my music teacher would say, the more you practice, the better you get... and I was practicing a lot.

One day, the fellas were hanging out and we were wondering where "Sammy" was and one guy said that he had heard that one of his parents had caught him jerking off and grounded him, which led to us talking about how to not get caught or leave any clues that we were jerking off... and I told them how I figured it out. Of course, they didn't really believe me so off we went to one of our hideouts so I could show them. It's me and five other guys and the five of them just sat there watching me jerk off like it was a good movie and when I shot my jizz and made sure I got it on my hand and fingers - then licked it all up and swallowed it - wow, you could have bought them all for two pennies. Some of them said, "Ew!" which surprised me since there wasn't one of us there who didn't suck dick and greedily swallow jizz but, yeah, this was different but, yep, all five of them tried it. Three threw up right away and the other two guys didn't and said that I found a great way to not leave any clues that we were jerking off.

As much fun as that was, it wasn't as much fun as doing it to each other and we spent the next hour or so in our hideout sucking each other's dick and swallowing jizz; we determined that swallowing each other's jizz was easier than swallowing our own but if I could do it, they could, too... and it was better than getting caught and punished in some way.

Jerking off just felt so good and I'd eventually grow up and there would be no need to get the evidence off my hand and fingers by licking them clean... but it was now just a part of me jerking off and, if nothing else, I didn't have to explain why there was no toilet paper in the bathroom. I'd eventually figure out that I could give myself a blowjob and, holy shit - that was better than jerking off even when, after sucking myself off, my body would feel almost the way it did when I got hit by a car years ago... but it was all about making myself feel good and it has always made me feel so good.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]I found myself working on a problem and especially when, after coming out of the bathroom after yet another great time making myself shoot jizz, my mom looked at me and said, "I know what you're doing in there and you'd better stop it!"

Oh, shit! If I could have turned invisible, I would have! I was so embarrassed it wasn't funny and I realized that when I thought I was being slick and sneaky about it, yeah, no, I wasn't. Even more embarrassing was the lecture I got from her about how it was normal for boys to play with themselves and make themselves feel good but it was a very bad habit and one I needed to get out of right now... and the "or else" was implied even if she hadn't said it.

I had just said, "Yes, ma'am..." because what else could I say? I wanted to say, "But, Mom, it feels so good to do that!" but knew that if I did, the lecture I'd gotten would be mild compared to how she'd react to me saying such a thing. Kid logic kicked in to remind me that I didn't actually promise her that I wouldn't do it but now my problem was how to do it when at home and not leave any evidence that I was doing the thing she said to stop doing. One part of the solution was to be able to jerk off as fast as I could and be able to do it in the time it would take for me to poop and, yeah, if it took a little too long, I could always say that I was, what's the word, constipated - yeah, that's the word for when you have a hard time pooping.

The down side to that excuse was me winding up all bent over with that nozzle stuck up my ass and connected to that damned red bag and feeling some kind of way to feel that warm, soapy water squirting in my butt which, um, actually, didn't feel that bad - but there was nothing worse to be getting an enema when the truth was I didn't need one. But to be able to make myself feel good and not be suspected of doing what I wasn't supposed to be doing, it was kinda worth it... but not an excuse to be used a whole lot.

I figured that part of the problem out and now on to the second part of the problem: What to do about the jizz I'd shoot? I tried standing in front of the toilet and trying to shoot it in there... and was dismayed to find out that it didn't work like peeing did. I tried sticking my dick in the toilet before I'd shoot, you know, like a guy does when pooping but, um, wow, that's when I found out that when your dick is hard and you're trying to shoot and trying to do it in the toilet while sitting down, well, it hurt! And then, sometimes, I couldn't try to shoot that way because the moment I thought that I was about to shoot and I need to somehow shoot in the toilet, it would be too late - and now I gotta clean it up from wherever it went. And, yeah, the last time I tried to do that, I missed some of it and, just my bad luck, my mom saw it; she didn't scold me but the look she gave me made me want to pee on myself.

What to do?[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]One of the other things I learned about jerking off - and because me and the fellas would get together and talk about it - was to not make the same mistakes my friends who could shoot were making, like, putting a sock on their dick and shooting inside the sock or using a bath towel to shoot into or clean up the mess; or don't hump your pillow and shoot because whoever did the laundry in your house would see the crusty mess left when the stuff got dry and there would be hell to pay.

It made sense to me to jerk off in the bathroom and use toilet paper to clean up the mess I'd make and more so when you could flush the sticky paper right down the toilet... but never occurred to me that I was jerking off so much and using a lot of toilet paper to clean up that one of my parents would notice it. And, yeah, when my mom asked who was using up all of the toilet paper, she had looked right at me and I had felt a jolt of fear stab into me because the look she gave me told me that she knew I was responsible for the toilet paper use... and she knew why I was using so much of it. She didn't come out and accuse me but, yeah, she knew. Another thing I learned was to not spend too much time in the bathroom doing it. Our apartment only had one bathroom and there was nothing more annoying - and nothing that would ruin what I was doing - than having someone yelling, "What's taking you so long in there?" Again, I was sure my parents knew exactly why it would take me a long time to use the bathroom but, again, neither of them said anything... but the looks I'd get? My father would just kinda grin at me and my mom would give me one of her patented mother looks that would make my stomach feel watery and queasy.[/SIZE][/FONT]