Charlie

I started rubbing my cock against the mattress sometime between the ages of five and ten, because it gave me a pleasantly warm feeling in my tummy. Around ten, my cock started to get hard when I saw pictures of certain males, so I began using my hand (literally "jerking off"), but my climaxes didn't actually ejaculate fluid for the first time until I was twelve, and I was disturbed at that. However, I didn't have any close friends with whom I could converse about it, so I just kept on doing it in private until I read something about the practice somewhere, and realized that it was normal male behavior. But I also learned that it was supposed to be stimulated by thoughts about girls, but mine was initiated by thoughts about young men. During my teens, I sometimes found opportunities to do it several times per day, usually while looking at photos in the little "physique" magazines that I could buy in the stores around Times Square, or while fantasizing about some of the guys in my high school gym class. Then, at seventeen, I found men with whom I could do a lot more than just masturbate, so jerking off became something I did only when there wasn't something more exciting available.

I misread the review area.

No, but only one star from eight reviews is not encouraging.

Some providers announce they are going somewhere just to see if they get any bites for future meetings there; if not, or not enough, they don't go.

One of the first mags I ever bought was a small fanzine with black and white photos of an exciting new singer named Elvis Presley. I was just learning how to jerk off, and kept it hidden under my mattress.

I knew the guy standing on the left (yes, he was gay).

Strangely enough, I had never seen these early photos of Teddy. Now I know why he easily attracted followers.

The only time I can remember was an appointment at a provider's apartment. He seemed rather tired when I arrived, and he suggested that we start with me giving him a blow job. I was doing my best to get him aroused, when I heard a light snore and looked up to see his eyes closed and his mouth open. So I stopped, quietly got dressed, then shook him awake, and told him I was leaving. He just gave me a sheepish look, but didn't object, as I walked out the door.

My mailbox is filled every day with requests for donations from organizations to which I have never given any money, but they have similar purposes to organizations to which I have given money, and they continue to solicit donations even though I never respond to them. Many of them send packets of greeting cards or other kinds of "gifts;" I occasionally keep the gifts and don't respond, but they will continue to send more gifts, all of which goes into my trash or recycling bins. I also get phone calls from many of these organizations, which I send straight to voicemail and delete. Whether it's animal support groups, education support, natural resources conservation groups, arts organizations, etc., they obviously get my information from organizations I do donate to. If they ask to put your name on a program, I would request that they just use "Anonymous."

Interesting that the skinny boy on the cover would be considered an example of "top physiques."

The title probably should be "Submarine Crew Showering in the Rain," but "showing" works, too.

There is definitely a difference between the guys I used to hire and the guys I dated or partnered. For hot and dirty sex, I liked big, hairy tops, but for an emotional relationship I wanted guys I could relate to on a personal level as friends, with whom I shared values and non-sexual interests. I rarely found men who fit both descriptions. I have been happily married for years to a guy who is older and shorter than I, slim (when we met) and almost devoid of body hair, and cute (when we met) but not a head-turner on the street. The sexual spark between us when we met was not based on physical attributes but personality. One doesn't flip through the photos on RM looking for emotional compatibility. When I am watching a sporting match on TV, the camera often switches to a prominent player's wife or girlfriend watching in the stands, and I am struck by how often she is the classic "trophy wife," looking like a plastic fashion model, and I wonder what their private relationship is like. I think back to my high school days and the hottest guy in the class: tall, handsome, built and a jock. He could have had almost any girlfriend he wanted, but instead he dated and married a classmate who was short, fat and homely, but with a lively personality. They had a happy marriage with several children, and his death from cancer in his 50s caused her to become an active fundraiser for a cancer society; she is now the mayor of their town. I don't see that kind of future for most of those trophy wives.

Probably examination for crabs in pubes and armpits.

The RMDs do raise our annual taxable income, but my spouse and I are lucky that we have never needed the money from our separate retirement accounts (a 401(k) for him and a 403(b) for me) for annual living expenses. My spouse's financial advisor simply re-invests his RMD in another investment account. I usually take mine in cash, and use it for non-essential purchases, like travel, or for charitable donations (which are tax deductible). I used last year's RMD to pay cash for a new car, rather than take out a loan. If we live long enough (say from 90 to 110), I'm sure we will actually need the money from the retirement accounts for essential care expenses, but for now I'm happy enough with the way things are structured.

I think you are correct.

I believe that William lives alone. I haven't heard from him recently, and don't know how to get in touch with him outside the site. I have lived alone only once in my entire life, for 6 months in my early 20s, so I never worry about something happening to me without anyone knowing it for days. But I do live in a gated 55+ community, where I interact with several of my neighbors every day, and if they didn't see me or my spouse, I'm sure they would inquire, just as I would if I didn't see one of them.

Undergoing transition in El Paso? (pronoun: they)

The S&L crisis in the last century was what caused me never to put all my money in a single bank. I keep the majority of my funds in a one major bank, but always keep enough in a second bank to survive for a few months.

I had my first experience with "tennis elbow" long before I started playing tennis. It began after I carried a very heavy box in front of me on a long walk to the post office. My doctor tried various things without success, so he sent me to an orthopedist who treated piano students at a noted music school. He examined me and said, "You need a cortisone shot," and gave it to me in the elbow. Within an hour the pain was gone, and it didn't return until years later, in a much milder form, when I really was playing a lot of tennis. Another doctor gave me another cortisone shot, but that time it didn't get much better. I wore an elbow brace and changed my service motion, and eventually it faded away.

Only one review, two stars, not into much despite claiming to be gay.

When we moved to CA almost twenty years ago, my partner and I got different primary care physicians because we had different health insurance providers. After about ten years, my partner's doctor changed to a concierge plan, because he said it was the only way he could limit his patients to a small group and still make out financially, so my partner joined the group. I was becoming more dissatisfied with my doctor, because he was often unavailable, so his staff would tell me to go to urgent care for treatment; I often went with my partner to his medical appointments anyway as he began to suffer from Alzheimer's dementia, so I also switched to his concierge doctor. The first major change I noticed was that a lot more routine treatment was included in concierge membership--automatically scheduled physicals and tests, for which I did not pay extra--and the doctor was almost always available for all sorts of minor medical problems and advice. Given how hard it is to find personal physicians in Palm Springs these days, it seems worth it to me to be a part of his concierge practice, even though the price of membership is steep. (My partner and I both have MediCare and supplemental insurance as well.) However, as with any professional relationship, it is only worth the money if you have good personal interaction with your physician and feel you can depend upon him/her when it matters.

The mountains surrounding Palm Springs were snow-covered down to much lower levels than I have ever seen before. Some of the mountain communities around the valley still have people trapped in their homes by several feet of snow, roads are closed and emergency responders can't get through, food stores are running out of supplies. I am wearing my old ski jackets and woolen hats to walk the dog here, while the cherry blossoms are getting ready to bloom in Washington, DC!

I have heard the name, but I have not listened to anything.

My parents used "high fallutin" to describe someone who was "putting on airs."

I am also a Mahler fan, but given a choice, I would usually go with Bruckner. I'm not sure what that says about me (do I enjoy edging and coitus interruptus?). I also prefer Nissan to Toyota, and Mercedes-Benz to BMW.