Though my girlfriends in my teen years and early twenties often masturbated and fellated me, at that time I preferred being fellated, or even masturbating myself, to being masturbated: because I hadn't yet learned something really important.
It took a completely unexpected experience, which happened during my first professional massage (at 33), to show me how much pleasure can come from going completely passive: by doing nothing but receiving.
I was in a foreign country, and the masseuse in question had been recommended to me by a co-worker on the same business trip: as highly skilled, modestly priced, and completely professional...no offers of sexual services. I was in an otherwise happy marriage that involved way too much traveling by both of us, and I didn't want to tempt fate. Reassured, I went in for my first massage ever.
"Arline" was in her late twenties, lovely, and modestly dressed. But she took a shine (and several other things) to me... Early in the massage, she told me I had a sexy body and stripped off my underwear (which, not knowing the rules, I had left on), while I was still face down.
Face up for the second half of the massage, and mostly under a towel, but feeling more turned on by the moment by her gliding strokes and caresses--not to mention being very obviously rock-hard under the towel--I started to tell Arline I should go. But she wasn't ready for me to go. She starting stroking my cock through the towel, and asked me if she could be my girlfriend while I was staying there.
I protested at first, but when she lifted the towel away, kissed me on the forehead, then put oil on my cock and began stroking it, no further objections were possible.
Besides her skill, what made being masturbated by Arline so special? If she'd been one of my pre-marriage partners, or my wife, I would have had my hands all over her while she was trying to pleasure me. But this was an entirely new experience for me... Arline stayed fully dressed, and neither knowing the rules nor feeling entirely right about what was happening, I wasn't about to try to stroke her breasts or get inside her pants. All I could do was lie back and let it happen.
And what happened was a delicious sensual treat, culminating in one of the longest, sweetest orgasms I'd ever experienced.
Her smile was just as sweet. She kissed me on the forehead again, used a hot wet towel to bathe me, and explained that she usually doesn't do anything like that...but that she liked me, and really wanted to give me a climax. She specifically told me NOT to tip her anything beyond the posted price for the one-hour massage, telling me what she was feeling for me was not about money.
And so a 25-year, fascinated, wife-permissioned exploration of erotic massages, in many venues, and usually with passively received "happy endings," began.
By the way, I later sought and received training in massage, too... and my wife says she much prefers being massaged and then masturbated by me, just receiving, to her own sex for one.
There really is a time to give, and a time to receive.