Other than pole climbing I was a late bloomer. I remember being in grade school and spending an inordinate amount of time in the bathtub (Saturday night, whether I needed a bath or not.) playing with my stubby little cock. I remember feeling pleasant enough sensations, but nothing like those pole climbs. Eventually while lying in the tub I discovered that I could put an arm down the front of my body to simulate the pole and cross my legs while tightening up my belly muscles as if I were actually climbing and BAM! There it was! That same amazing feeling. That would be the only way I knew to pleasure myself even into when I started ejaculating. Needless to say, I took a lot of baths!
I played with my dick in bed at night, just kind of casually rubbing it before falling asleep. Again, I recall it feeling really good, but not of orgasmic proportion. I don't remember how old I was when I found out that I could bring myself to climax by putting my palm flat against the underside of my hard cock and moving it up and down really fast, but I do remember my mother sticking her head into my dark room one night while I was doing it under the covers and asking me what was wrong because she heard me "scratching." I said my leg was really itchy. Yeah, my third leg, though I didn't mention that.
I don't believe it was until I was into high school and starting to read any kinds of sex materials I could get my mitts on (Medical dictionaries, my uncle's stash of men's magazines.) that I learned about the closed fist technique and "jerking" off. Oh, my goodness! Everthing else I'd done with myself up to that point paled by comparison to the rich sensations of that first close-fisted orgasm. I was hooked. I still am! If anybody kept track of how often I "abuse myself" they'd think I'm neurotic. Then again, if anybody knew me well enough to keep statistics like that about me, they'd already know just how nuts I am! ;)