Going through my email, deleting boring porn from various Yahoo groups that I've subscribed to recently (I always forget to check the no email box), when all of a sudden this guy pops up. Oh, man -- those eyes would be perfect for staring into as he and I sat face to face in our respective chairs, stroking each other's hairy legs with our feet as each of us puts on a show, masturbating his rigidly erect meat for his buddy's viewing pleasure. Ooooof, did that picture give me a woody...

Hey, Jackolytes! Sorry there were no updates yesterday. I spent most of the day hanging out in Queens with a buddy who'd been fantasizing about fooling around with another guy for years, but had never before gotten up the nerve to try anything. After reading this blog for a while, he finally decided that I might be just the kind of tutor he needed, and sent me a message asking whether I'd be willing to show him the ropes. (I think he chose well; I really am very friendly and relaxed and non-pushy in person.) So, we met up in person, had some lunch, and decided to go back to his place. That was yesterday; I just got back to Brooklyn this afternoon. The guy has given me permission to tell you all about the experience here on the blog -- in fact, he practically begged me to report all the lurid, sweaty, throbbing details, so long as I didn't mention any names -- so look for that post later tonight.

But first, I'm gonna bug you all with a PBS-style Fundraising Drive. Don't worry, I won't do it too often, but now that the blog is really up and running, I figured it's time to rattle my cup.

The cost of running this site is fairly low -- I paid $50 for a year's worth of image-hosting through blogger.com, and that's been just about covered by the donations I've received so far. However, money is tight here in NYC right now, and so I'm hoping that I can generate enough money through this blog to pay for the cost of one of my other hobbies. As you know if you've read through my archives, I've been taking kung fu lessons at a school here in Brooklyn to get myself in better shape. The tuition is $90 a month, which may not seem like a huge pile of money, but as I said, I'm on a tight budget, and it would be really swell if this one particular expense were somehow magically covered. So, my goal is to try to raise enough from Brooklyn Jack readers to cover six months' tuition ($540) at the kung fu school; that seems like a feasible target, considering the number of hits the site has been getting. So, if you've got the means, drop a few bucks into the tip cup, using the PayPal or Amazon Honor System buttons in the right side bar. (Or email me if you'd like to contribute by money order and need a snail mail address.)

Thanks a bunch!

P.S. If you wanna put in more than the suggested $5, go ahead -- any funds over and above the kung-fu tuition will go towards a new digital camera so that I can take better-quality snapshots of my dick for y'all.

Hey, readers -- a few of you had griped by email that the comments interface was slightly confusing (that's what I get for using free software; you should see their startlingly unattractive website). So I finally went into the source HTML and re-labeled the buttons to make it more self-explanatory (I hope), and also changed the color scheme to coordinate it with the main Brooklyn Jack page -- mmmmm, fetching!

Whoa, fuckin' hot! Just noticed this new comment from a Brooklyn Jack reader; I'm pasting it here in full because I just love the particular way this dude verbalizes:

^{Love this site. I am stroking my erect penis through my pre-cum stained briefs as I read it. I, too, love to masturbate, and I love to do it with other masculine guys. I also really get off on the idea of slowly exposing our erections through our briefs or boxers and just taking our time to enjoy the entire experience of PENIS. Like you, I love to talk about penis and anything related to the male genitals. I love to admire each other penises, stare at them and study them, acknowledge that we're aroused because we're looking at each other's penises, admit that we love the penis. Like your other writer, I want to smell each other's penises, scrotums, and pubic hair. I want to tell you how it feels to have your erect penis in my hand and later in my mouth. I want to tell you what your penis tastes like and what your pre-cum tastes like. I want to put our penises together and tell you how incredible it feels to be bonded by penis. I want to mix our pre-cum together and taste it. And finally, after we talk about penis and masturbate for a few hours, I want to ejaculate on each other -- be it face, chest, penis/scrotum/pubic hair, and take the time to smell the semen and rub it slowly into each other as we lay down together and talk about how great it is to be masculine men who have come together and through total immersion in penis.}

Thanks, buddy... I had to unzip halfway through reading the above, and I'll bet I'm not the only one.

Here's a stupid question: How do you spell the noise that a guy's hand makes as it slides up and down his well-lubricated erection? I'm thinking of adding ricky-shickity-shicky as an onomatopoeic entry in the Brooklyn Jack Glossary, unless someone can suggest a better spelling. (Who else started getting a chub just from imagining that sound?)

This picture is like a snapshot of my mental state right after a buddy and I have shot loads together, when my instinct is just to cuddle up like the highly advanced talking monkeys that we are and just lie there, chests rising and falling in unison, feeling the warmth of another guy's body as you both luxuriate in the drawn-out post-orgasmic bliss. Happy to be alive, happy to be men. It doesn't always end up that way when I jack off with a guy -- sometimes he just wants to wipe off, get dressed, shake hands, and see-ya-later.That's cool with me, but when the energy's right, and you feel comfortable with your buddy -- man, it is so nice just lying there skin-to-skin, feeling like the two of you have just connected with the Primal Masculine Spirit, or something.

Miserable, sodden weather today in New York -- not a brisk spring shower, but just a cold, interminable drizzle. On the bright side, what better excuse to hole up in my bedroom for some quality time with Li'l Brooklyn Jack, who's begging to get out of my khakis right now. Just squeezing the erection through my pants right at the moment -- no sense rushing things; sometimes it's nice just to let the tension build, to feel your hard penis strain against your zipper for a while, knowing that when you finally open your fly, there's going to be a dark wet circle of precum on your underwear. Sometimes even enough that you can dab up a drop with your fingertip and taste it... savor the salty signal from your dick that it's ready to be played with, that it wants the firm grip of your hand, that it's time to do what every man loves. But for now I'm just going to keep enjoying the swollen hardness through my pants, and picturing you as you sit their with that erect dong in your hand, buddy, deliriously masturbating while you look at pictures of other dudes displaying their rigid manhood, and imagining what it would be like for you and me to put our stiff penises together...

Oh, and in case you don't look at the comments from other readers, here's a real corker in response to my post about having my first orgasm courtesy of a '70s sex guide for women:

My first time to orgasm was when I was 15 (yeah, I was a late bloomer). I had been masturbating - sort of - for a couple of years. But I hadn't actually wrapped my hand around my dick and stroked. Don't ask me why this never occured to me. Anyway, I was staying overnight at my grandmothers. She was asleep and as usual I was up late with a hard on. I started playing wiht myself and remembered something I had read in a mens magazine about using lotion. So I stealthily crept naked past my grans room to the bathroom and got some lotion. I returned to my room and laid down on the floor and started rubbing lotion on my throbbing cock. Man it felt so good. I couldn't believe I had never done this. It kept feeling better and better and all of a sudden I felt this really weird sensation. I felt like I should stop but I just couldn't. Then BLAM! My cock erupted in several spurts of hot cream. I shot way past my head and landed on the carpet behind me. It was all over my chest. I was dumbfounded. I had no idea this could happen. Wow, just the beginning of a long love affair with masturbation.

As I said, my first orgasm was dry, and I continued to shoot blanks for several months, although in retrospect it may have been that simply stopped stroking too soon, because the pleasure was so intense I thought my skull was gonna go all Scanners. But I knew, courtesy of my parents' sex guidebooks, that something white was supposed to shoot out of a guy's dick along with orgasm. So when it finally happened, I wasn't dumbfounded; just absolutely thrilled that everything was in working condition. And I'm pretty sure I thought something along the lines of ''Wow, I'm becoming a man...''

Sorry about the lack of updates today, guys; once in a while I do have a life and responsibilities that call me away from the worship of my stiff hairy throbbing manhood, to which I am devoted with all the fanatical zeal of country preacher. Fortunately I've finished up with the workaday grind, at last, and can relax with a couple beers and the ol' crotch rocket.

Speaking of which, a longtime fan sent me this convenient and rigorously scientific diagram highlighting the particular features of Brooklyn Jack's body that he finds the most compelling. I don't recall seeing anything like this in any of my undergraduate biology texts -- which is too bad, as it would've been a nice change from memorizing the electron-transport pathway in cellular respiration -- but I'm mighty flattered to have my, uh, testosteroniousness analyzed and cataloged in such... attentive detail. (Although, damn, do my arms really look that skinny?) Still, there's something about knowing that another man is so completely focused on your rigid dick and balls that just makes ya want to beat your chest and let out a triumphant Tarzan roar, announcing your rough animal virility to the goddamn jungle...

A reader sent me some feedback this afternoon. Thanks, man -- that's what makes this Blog so much fun to write. And as long as I'm on the subject of reader participation, I'll again encourage you guys to send me the URLs for region-specific sites for men looking to masturbate with other men. (I put up a couple that are specific to the NYC area because I've tried them and I know that they're busy sites where you can get plenty of responses, and so far I've had one response from a guy who runs a Nebraska J/O site.)

Have you cast your vote yet in the Masturbation Accessories poll? If not, take your hand off that swollen fuckin' tubesteak for thirty seconds, wipe off the excess lube (currently neck-and-neck with dirty pictures as the popular favorite) so you don't gunk up the mouse, and submit your answers!

Dredging up the memory about beating off while looking at Dad's stash of Playboy back issues -- in my case, with my attention focused not on the centerfolds but on all the handsome men in the liquor and underwear and razor ads -- made me think about the first time ever. Obviously, we all got boners even when we were kids, and I figured out early that it felt nice to rub my hard penis. But I count as the ''first time'' the occasion when I finally understood exactly what the word orgasm meant, accompanied by the realization that the pleasure I'd previously experienced was as nothing compared to this.

I was 12 years old, sitting on the toilet one evening, one of my three favorite reads smuggled in with me: The Sensuous Woman, by 'J', that swinging-'70s paperback classic that I'd discovered on my parents' bookshelf a couple years before, along with its companion volume, The Sensuous Man, by 'M', and The Joy of Sex -- the original hardcover edition, with all the pencil drawings of a bearded hippie guy getting it on with his lady. (I dunno what my parents were thinking, keeping this kind of stuff in plain view on the bookshelf instead of hiding it in a sock drawer or something. Because of their carelessness, I was a lad of only nine years old when I first discovered The Joy of Sex, and I spent many an hour gazing fondly at the drawings of the hippie dude's penis, wondering if mine would ever be that hairy.)

But that evening, as I said, I was perusing The Sensuous Woman, and specifically the chapter ''How to Drive A Man to Ecstasy,'' with its detailed instructions on, among other things, giving good handjobs and BJs. (Actually, come to think of it, that was the only hot chapter in the book, as the rest of it consisted of advice for liberated single gals on how to pick up men in museums, the importance of feeling pretty and feminine, and whatnot.) Reflective of the era, I guess, the advice on making a man come his brains out was a mix of faux-Kama Sutra sensuality -- many of the techniques had names like ''The Silken Butterfly Swirl,'' f'rinstance -- and prim Ann Landers decorum, with 'J' hastening to reassure her female readers that there was nothing unsanitary or degrading about taking a man's penis into your mouth.

Anyway, there I was, feeling my hard 12-year-old dick -- still without the nice manly bush of pubic hair that I envied on the Joy of Sex guy -- and I got it into my head to try to duplicate the ecstasy-inducing effects of the ''The Silken Butterfly Swirl'' using my hand as a substitute mouth. So, I spit on my hand to get it appropriately moist, wrapped it around my erection, and began stroking away vigorously while attempting simultaneously to make circular motions around the head with my thumb (pinch-hitting for a tongue, if you follow me). It felt really good, so I just kept at it, all the while reading and re-reading the chapter's raciest passages, and feeling better and better than I ever had before while playing with my dick. And then... OH MY GOSH, this breathless sensation and a degree of physical pleasure more intense than I'd ever experienced, emanating from my stiff penis and moving through me in waves, and I suddenly knew what 'M,' of The Sensuous Man, had been talking about in his chapter on Masturbation. I hadn't ejaculated, and wouldn't experience that until after several more months of dry orgasms, but from that day, I was hooked.

P.S. Don't be shy, dude -- hit that Comments button and share a story. How'd you get started?

From a reader in Texas:

I'm the organizer of a private j/o group here [in the Dallas/Fort Worth area]... We've had some really hot times! I have always ''gotten off'' (literally and figuratively) on ''just'' j/o, and a group of guys who feel that way is both freeing, affirming and boyish/manly bonding. Several of the bi guys in the group have come to really be more relaxed and obviously enjoying themselves than their first time at a party! And it's cool to see that.

I agree it's really fucking cool when guys who are new to the idea of male/male masturbation come to realize how amazingly masculine it can make you feel when you're stroking with buddies -- which is totally contrary to expectation for some guys, because the prevailing notion in our culture is that if two or more guys are enjoying erotic pleasure together, someone must be playing a female role. But as those of us who've tried rubbing hard dick with another man understand, it doesn't feel feminine at all. You just feel like a guy, sharing with your buddies.

UPDATE: Not only do you feel like a guy, but you feel a more intense awareness of your own masculinity when you see that another man has an erection from looking at you, from touching your penis. Just the knowledge that your maleness is exciting to your buddy, that your FUCKING DICK gives him a boner and makes him want to masturbate, makes you feel proud and masculine to show off your stiff meat to him. Gets you totally focused on your manhood...

Added a new section to the sidebar: EROTIC BLOGS/JOURNALS, where I'll put links to any other examples of verbal exhibitionism that I happen to, ahem, come across. The first entry is My-Journal.com, a free site where members can keep journals detailing their most intimate thoughts for the titillation of total strangers, as well as gab with other diarists in a discussion-board forum.

The demographics are somewhat skewed towards straight females who invariably describe their journals with some variation of the phrase ''random musings'' (wasn't that the name of Peggy's short-lived weekly column on King of the Hill?), but there's some quality writing to be found if you poke around a little.

I'd point out Too Much Information, a polished and sexy effort by a 33-year-old straight guy. Also, the site's creator informs me that he'd be very happy to see more participation by gay men (or just guys who enjoy erotic contact with other males, howsoever you personally identify), so if you've been thinking about keeping your own dirty diary, check the site out -- the interface is easy to use even if you consider yourself computer illiterate.

Wow. Just sat down at my computer and checked the stats for the hit counter at the bottom of the page -- over 380 visitors today, which means it'll probably be past 400 by the time midnight rolls around. That's pretty damn good for a brand-new blog, which means I must be doing something right. The coolest part is that the average visit length was over five minutes, meaning most of the visitors are interested enough to stick around for a while and check out the older posts. Needless to say I immediately got boned from the thought of so many horny men sitting bare-ass naked in front of their computers, eagerly masturbating their stiff dicks while they read this site. Have my erect penis lubed up now and am having myself a good time... thanks, guys.

Added a new feature called ''Brooklyn Jack's Glossary'' to the Masturbation Links section; feedback welcome if you feel some of the definitions aren't quite right, or if you want to suggest other terms that some readers might be puzzling over.

A couple of interesting photo montages showed up in my inbox this afternoon. God, give me nice amateur efforts like these over the commercially produced stuff any day. It's so much fucking hotter to see the type of regular guy who might very well live on your street proudly displaying his erect manhood than to watch some bored Ken doll model strike a pose. (Those who can remember going through the amô, amas, amat drill in Latin 101 class don't need to be told that the word "amateur" literally suggests someone who engages in a pastime out of sheer love for it...)