The Hardest Topic I've Ever Written About!

Ok, Here Goes...

The Hardest Topic I've EVER Talked About. 

(No Pun intended...) The topic of Erections, There, I said It!

~Warning!~ The text, pictures, cartoons, and entire subject of this blog MAY BE OFFENSIVE to some. In No Way am I trying to shove anything in anyone's face, or in any way be inappropriate, graphic, or sexual. But the topic is about erections, and all that goes with them... So you Have Been Warned. There is nothing visually graphic, except one cartoon. Read, Learn, Laugh, and Explore at your own desire... not because you are in any way forced-to. 

In writing my blog about the hitchhiker, I began to realize quite a few things I am still easily embarrassed about. Just when I thought I was comfortable in my own skin, and thought I had accepted almost every little quirk about my own body, I was suddenly faced with some of my own embarrassments. Writing about the hitchhiker, and the events that occurred because of her, I found how difficult it is, even for me to openly admit, let alone allow another to know or see certain things about myself. That blog was one of the hardest I have written, because it brings up so many emotions, and fears. I am a person who lives life with feelings. Often just simply writing about an event in my life brings those feelings I felt at that time to the surface now. Simply writing is not so simple. It is all about re-living, and experiencing those feelings, fears, emotions, and all that all over again. Often, this is The Most Difficult aspect of writing for me.

As I re-lived the events of The Hitchhiker those feelings, and the emotions that came with it, I began to realize that while I have made huge progress in moving forward in life, and accepting, even embracing much of what I am not comfortable with, I seemingly have regressed in some areas. Those areas are directly related to the fact that I have a penis. There, I said it. Yes, I have a penis. While in recent years, I have come a huge distance in not hiding the fact that I have never been happy to have been born with a penis, I still find that after 44 years, I cannot totally accept, or allow others to notice certain aspects of it. … Well, I guess it would not be accurate to say that it has been this way for 44 years (almost 45 now.) Because the first 12-years of my life, I never felt the need to hide my penis. The first twelve years of my life were easy in the penis department. So in all accuracy, I gotta say, it has been 32-years that I have been conflicted. (with a couple of brief-times during those where I actually learned to forget about the hang-ups.)

 Here Is A Funny Picture of Me... With My Wood :)

Ya know, It is actually funny how I am about my own naked-ness, and still feel I should hide my erections. This past year has been wonderful in my own growth, acceptance, and even welcoming of my body, the changes I see happening as I age, and finally allowing myself to admit it.

This photo is one Kim took recently when she and her hubby were at my home. The reason I chose this photo is because of the implied joke. (Yup, He's got wood. He's showing his wood. Bare, or Bear?) Any way you look at it, it is funny, and I welcomed her taking the photo. Her hubby thought it was hilarious, and welcomed me to be so free for his wife to experiment in her photography. I did not have an erection at this time, but we did talk later about what if I did? I am not fully-allowing anyone to see me in that way yet... But I am getting closer. Also in the past year, I have taken a few photos of myself, and actually not deleted them just because they showed me with a bit of erection. This is just another part of my growing, learning, and accepting of my own self. I am happy to have friends in my life who also welcome my own growth and explorations.

What Exactly Embarrasses Me?:

Two areas of mortification, humiliation and embarrassment involving my penis are: how and when I get an erection, and how I feel about it. Yep. I said it. It has taken me 44 years to publicly say it. (well ok, maybe a little less since I did not talk for probably the first year…) I often have written, or spoken, but only cautiously mentioned an erection as “a reaction”.  It is kinda odd, and funny… that someone who loves to be naked is embarrassed to admit, or to allow another to see he has an erection. Even as a non-sexual being, I am not able to be so sure my erection would not be viewed as sexual, or offensive…. Yet I know from experience that those who have seen, felt, or even purposely caused it have shown me that I have nothing to be embarrassed about. Wow. My own fear of even writing the word is (no pun intended) huge and hard to grasp. I wrote it four times in this paragraph. The first time was almost impossible, The second, third, and fourth were not easy. Each time I wanted to write “reaction” instead. I would have to search everything I have ever written, but to my best recollection, the only time I have used that word was when I would describe those who behaved badly, and intentionally wanted to have others see their own erection. (Ha! I first started to write “reaction”) But I have Never purposely used the word to describe my own penis…. Thus the conflict I have… is mostly within my own mind. I probably had to use the word in 9^th grade health class to pass a test about sex-ed, but that was totally different. It was not talking about me... and it totally was related to sexuality.

Do I Like Erection(s)?:

(It would seem that if someone was non-sexual, they also would not enjoy an erection, right? Nope!):

Now don’t get me wrong, I Absolutely DO Enjoy my erections. I just can’t grasp (Pun not intended) the notion of it in any way being sexual. IF I never have an orgasm, I would be fine with that. Give me an erection, and just remove all the sexual-ness that goes along with it, and I would be happy! The problem I have is in admitting it, or allowing another to see it. Why have I gotten so I absolutely do not want anyone to see, or notice I have one? As an adult, often in life, I have had close female friends who would share a bed with me. Yup! I got erections, even though there was never anything sexual between us, and often, I would do almost anything I could to be sure it was not noticed… (roll-over, lay on m,y front, wear two-pair of underwear, scoot my hips back so I was not poking her...) even though they would express “it was ok”, or “I don’t mind”. To me, I somehow had connected an erection with sexuality, and absolutely did not want them to think it was sexual, or intended as sexual. The worst was if I shared a bed with a friend, and got one, tried to make it not-noticeable, but they would purposely snuggle-into it, not attempting to make it sexual, or take it any further, just showing me they were ok with it, and I should be too. I would be mortified, but at the same time notice they were not. But why was (am) I always so embarrassed by it? I did not used-to be. There have been occasional friends (Non-girlfriend-type) who I have allowed, and welcomed an erection. It still baffles me, and I cannot yet find logic, reason, or valid thoughts to say why this is sometimes acceptable for me, and other times it is not. Eventually, I might write more about each person who I have felt so safe and comfortable with, but for now, there is only one I have written about. That was when I lived in Virginia. I write in much detail about her (Jill) in my Blog about “Naked on the Roof For Memorial Day”.

I Hate Sex:

(How does That Compare with Drugs and Alcohol?)

It is no secret that I absolutely hate sex. To quote a friend, when we were recently having this discussion, her shocked, yet humorous response was: “Wait. You’ve Had Sex, and Do Not Like IT!?!??”  I laughed, and appreciated her candor. To her, the notion of not liking sex was unheard-of by anyone who had actually had it, especially by a male! That kind of statement was reserved for those who had never had it, or for those who had only bumbled around a bit, not yet having gotten a true understanding of it. No, I am not a virgin. I have definitely had experience, understanding, and know what sex is, and how so many people absolutely love it. Also, in our society, it creeps people out when I state I am non-sexual. For some reason, it is widely accepted, and welcomed for all to openly state how much they love sex, and to have one person (Me) state the opposite, it creeps them out, and they do not know how to react to that. The only way I can compare my hatred of sex is to compare it to Drugs, or even Alcohol. But in our society, most do not understand that comparison either. Seemingly, most people cannot understand how I absolutely hate the way any alcohol, or drug makes me feel, yet most people feel the opposite. While most will openly admit and tell the world about their alcohol consumption, most will hide anything to do with their drug-consumption. (The subject of drug-consumption, abuse, and even what would or would not fall into this category is quite lengthy, and would be a post, or several all in itself. For now, I just mention it as comparison.) Most will say they do not do drugs, but will do them in secret, but will tell you once you have gained their trust. I do not do drugs one bit… At all. And this baffles most. But it is the same with sex. I don’t secretly have sex, and just claim that I don’t. I flat-out hate sex, and will not have it.

As a Child, I always said “Why Would Anyone Want To Have Sex?”:

From as early an age as I could recall, I never could see the desire for anyone to have sex. I could not grasp why anybody would ever want to create another human, nor mix their bodily fluids like that. From as early as I can remember, I never liked the idea of another’s bodily fluids combining with mine. (But, of course, there were exceptions) I also could not image why anyone would find sex to be appealing. By the age of five, I was adamant about all the reasons people should not create babies. I had connected 'sex' with baby-making, and to me, that was absolutely nothing I wanted anything to do with. (But as long as it was simply play, but not sexual, it was ok in my mind. The fine-line was if it mimicked the act of making a baby.) People often were baffled, and assumed I was just repeating what I’d heard others say. But my parents, grandparents, and anybody else in my life all insisted these were my own thoughts, and beliefs. This was easily proven since nobody could find anybody that had the same views as I did, so it would be difficult to have copied another’s words. They would be baffled that I had such strong feelings at such a young age, but in further inquiries, they learned my reasons, and the facts to which I based my opinions. I knew that the main purpose for God to have created humans in the way which our bodies were made, the way they were was so a male and a female could make a baby. No, I was not taught this in a church, or religious setting. I knew this from seeking all the understanding I could about how our bodies function.  I sought learning about everything I came across in life. Humans were one of many things I tried to understand. I was especially always seeking knowledge about humans, and how our bodies worked, because from birth, I had health issues the doctors were baffled by. From birth I learned much of how my own body functioned was not at all like any other, and my mind also was different. I was always told they could not figure out my body, nor my mind. Doctors could only copy what they were shown based on how other humans were made. I was not made like another human.

What about God?:

(And how does God have anything to do with My own Erections?)

Hehe... Master The Art... :)

Conflicting as it was for my own being, I knew who God was, and I was created special, absolutely unique. Most are unique in the fact that their own personality is not like others. My uniqueness was to the core. My senses, how I learned, how food worked, or did not, and even what I thought felt good compared to any other was completely unlike any other. I was created to seek a deeper understanding, feel, and see things differently, and to react to these things differently than most were. What felt good to others did not make me feel the same. My wiring was not at all like any other I met. This conflicted and confused me hugely. Everything I ever learned did not match what others learned. I was confused about much that existed in life. God was a huge confusion, conflict, and bafflement (is that a word?) Because while I Knew God, I also wanted to deny God existed. (Ha! But the subject of My Knowing God is an entirely different subject, and likely many posts all in themselves.) But I Knew without a doubt God had made me to feel, see, and react differently than any other ever created…. But I totally wanted to deny God existed, too. I would later learn that God Created me as a non-sexual being, so I could be The Safe Person in others’ lives. God created me this way so I was not a threat in the sexual-department for those who otherwise had found any penis to be a bad thing. I learned I was created this way so even those who had only found that a penis was a threat, or to be used in a bad-way could find peace, understanding, and learning about what was otherwise feared. (And I’ll bet you were wondering how God in any-way connected to my erections?... I will get to that later, likely a separate post in itself… But I learned that even with my own views of my erections, there would be times when someone was placed in my life that needed to learn in a safe, non-threatening environment about erections. Turns out, I learned, too!)

Why Did I Hate The Idea of Sex?:

My logic, and understanding about the purpose of sex likely shaped my feelings toward sex, sexuality, and how it made me feel, act, and react. But it goes much deeper than just a belief about baby-making.  I truly believe God did not want me to be a sexual being. Could this be because of my views on baby-making? Could this be because of my views on bodily fluids? Possibly. But I will never know for sure. To know that sex is a primary function needed for making babies, the likeliness of that being the reason I could never find good in it is highly likely, but I doubt that is the root of it. But also, I have discovered my own wiring makes what feels good to others not feel good to me. So, it clearly is a dislike of not only the idea of making babies, but also to the core of my own body, and how sex feels to me. To me there is nothing pleasant about sex, and I cannot grasp why anyone would want to feel like that. 

One thing I have discovered is intimacy, or sensuality is completely different than sex. I also have discovered most people do not know the difference, and my mention of it confuses them. To most intimacy, or sensuality is also sexual. There is a huge difference! To me, if you can share sensuality, and intimacy with someone, it is much more meaningful, delightful, and uplifting than any sex ever could be. To connect with someone in a sensual-way, to have an intimacy, an understanding, and a connection that could never be reached with sex… THAT, to me is The Absolute Best Feeling To Achieve! The feeling of being so close, trusted, and safe with another that you can touch, feel, learn, and explore, but have no sex... Yup! I'll take that any day! Ya want sex? Go find someone else.

~As I write, I have my own battles that go on inside my own mind that if I listened, I likely would never reveal any of my true feelings... Fortunately, I ignore those distractions... Mostly.~

THE DISTRACTIONS IN MY MIND THAT CAUSE ME TO NOT SAY WHAT I FEEL:

This is not easy at all to write, but I am feeling inspired, and must get it out while the mood is right… some of this may be considered taboo, or even one of those “best left unmentioned”… I may even delete parts of this later, but for now, I feel I gotta write as it feels right...

Welcome Touch, Exploration, and Learning as a Young Boy:

(Some say it is Taboo, or Forbidden to ever touch…But would you agree a child should learn... and hopefully in a safe, trusted environment rather than finding the answers they seek in an unhealthy way?)

I remember how as a young boy, many of us would happily be naked, even openly touch, feel, and play with others. We understood from an early age when it was allowed and when it was not. Naked play, touch, understanding, and discovery were just simply part of learning, growing, and understanding. Yes, both boys and girls… and dare I mention also older people, too. It was not just us “little kids”. I was fortunate that many of my friends’ parents, my grandparents, and even an aunt by marriage were all safe, encouraging comfortable people. Also interestingly enough, There was absolutely no openness, no touch, and no “play” allowed on my Dad’s side of the family. The idea of anyone seeing anybody even partially naked on his side of the family was unheard of. (But my Dad did not care if anyone was naked, touched, or not… just his family was weird about it.) On My Mom’s side, it was Very Open… Yet my Mom was the one who had the most hang-ups about it. (I cover some of those oddities in posts about “Naked Freedom as a Child, Then Lost”). But even though Mom had hang-ups about it, She Also was one of The Most Positive, supportive, and open, too! We had many neighbors, family-friends, community-groups, camps, and places where touch, learning, and exploration in a safe-environment were welcomed, accepted, and not-at-all-shameful.

What was Acceptable?:

(Dare I Say who touched, and when?? Or is that Taboo?):

I learned as a very young boy that for some reason almost any girl, or woman really liked to have little boys they could give an erection to. But they were picky about which boys they would do this with. I was one they enjoyed to “play” with…  and I did not mind one bit! But they would absolutely not go near some boys’ penises, because of how that boy behaved. Of course, it worked-out that the friends I had who were boys, also fit into this same group. The ones who were creepy did not become my friend, nor would they want me as theirs. Those were the ones no girl ever wanted to be around. This was most definitely true among girls our own age, and the ones just a few years older. But it was not limited to the girls. I learned that if you were willing, and open, it was perfectly acceptable for almost any age of woman to find joy in this. It never felt wrong, bad, or weird. It was never done in a “secretive way”, or hidden. I never really understood why it was acceptable for any girl or woman to give an erection, and even have their friends do the same to a young boy, but it was taboo for them to do the same with any teenaged boy, or a man. I later learned that as long as a boy only had “Phantom Ejaculations” it was totally acceptable. It would all change after a boy could have real ejaculations. (I’ll get back to that later).That was why when the boys were older, it was looked as sexual, instead of just good, clean, safe fun. I also would learn that even once a boy could ejaculate, it was still safe, harmless, and fun as long as it was not taken to that point. But most boys wanted it to be taken to that, instead of just enjoy the erection, and safe play. But this baffled me, and likely helped shape my own views as to why I went into hiding with my own erections as I grew-up. While it was always accepted that a girl, or woman of any age was allowed to give a boy an erection, it was not always the same when it involved older boys, or men. Yep! I willingly admit there were some boys and men who I totally trusted, and never made me feel uncomfortable in any way. (And, No… My own Dad never was interested in this touch at all. He was safe, trusted, and never creepy, but he simply never cared about anybody’s penis. Sometimes, this confuzzled me, too, since I could not understand why he accepted any of this, but would never be part of it.) Some boys and men were completely safe, and never a bad thing, but there were those who were the opposite, too.

Who Were The Creepy Ones?

(The ones who were not safe, and could not be trusted):

Some boys, and men were absolutely creepy, and gave off a feeling that was not to be trusted. I got rid of friends fast, and stayed away from men who would be creepy in this area. (But some were family, and I was forced to be around them …) It was always easy to tell which were the safe ones, and which were the creeps. The safe ones never felt they needed to be secretive, hide, or never be like this when others were around. The safe ones never did anything that made you uncomfortable. It was the creepy ones who wanted to be secretive, or do this in hiding, or have you do things you were not comfortable with, even telling you to “never tell anyone”. Simply put, if someone felt they had to hide their activity, or acted different because others were around, they could not be trusted. I grew up in a very comfortable, open, mostly safe environment. We learned healthy touch, exploration, and observation. The human body was in no way shameful, or even anything that needed to be hidden. But if the occasional creepy one made me uncomfortable, I made sure they knew they were never allowed near me again. This was awkward when it involved a relative, but usually those relatives would make themselves very distant at family functions. The most creepy, and hardest to ever be around were my own brother, and an uncle on my Mom’s side.  They knew they were creeps, but also thrived on this behavior, so they were often torn in their own minds about how to function, or how to hide their desires. They knew many would allow their creepiness, yet I would absolutely not, and even speak-out boldly against them, so they often would attempt to bribe me, or worse, scare or bully me into not saying anything. My brother would go so far as to have his friends attempt to beat me up, bully me, or make my life miserable, all because I would not submit to their creepy ways. It was tough with my uncle, because my family always sent me on camping trips with him. He would attempt to spoil me rotten, giving me all the camping, skiing, and wonders of nature he knew I absolutely loved. My family knew how much he creeped me out, but also knew I loved nature, and that he always wanted to take me along, so it was a struggle for most of my youth. But it was not just those two. There were others in our neighborhood, and community. While I absolutely loved my freedom of nakedness, when the creepy ones were around, I would never be naked, and do anything I could to be sure an erection never showed if they were around. (This, too helps me understand why I went into always hiding my own erection… simply to not attract the creeps!) This began as early in life as I could recall. I always tried to figure out the connection between an erection, and when it was safe, comfortable, and no problem, and when it should be hidden.

Safe and Unsafe People:

I did not have many friends that were boys, but the few I did have were as eager as I was to learn, and discover. We seldom objected to have the girls want to see if they could cause an erection. (It was seldom that they could not!) Heck, even us boys enjoyed giving each other erections. As long as nobody was made to feel uncomfortable, unsafe, or felt harmed in any way, we were free to discover, learn, and explore as much as we could. As long as it was not suddenly made sexual, but simply just an erection, I never got creeped-out by my own, or by any of the friends I had. But the moment one of them would suddenly start to see it as sexual, I would never again be able to be friends with that boy. It is no secret my hatred toward my brother and how he treated me. But I noticed it was not just my own view. None of the girls I was friends with, or the neighbor girls would be naked near him, or ever touch him in that way. We had our share of babysitters growing-up. Most of the baby sitters got the same impression. He made them uncomfortable, so it was difficult to get baby-sitters to return again. (Occasionally, he found a sitter that thought he was perfect in all his creepy ways. Needless to say, my sister and I did not like those sitters.) Nobody could ever figure out why he insisted on being so creepy, and it made many situations very uncomfortable. He had plenty of friends, and was popular… among boys, but the boys who were my friends also felt very uncomfortable around him.

When A good Friend Turns Bad:

(When Innocent play with Donuts ‘n Peanut Butter turns to porn.)

I remember when I was eight, a neighbor boy had me come over after school, because he wanted to show me something that he thought would help me understand his recent changes that I objected to.  We were previously close friends, but in recent months, I had told him I did not feel comfortable near him.

I was often at this boy’s house, and naked, and even erections were never an issue. His older sister was 12, and often played in the same way with us. His dad was always upstairs, (never naked) and seldom interacted with us, but did not care if we were naked, or not. His mom was around, too, but it seemed recently she was always away at work. She interacted with us, and never saw our play as anything but good, safe, normal play. She was totally comfortable and safe. We often saw her naked, and it was never an issue, either. The Mom was never interested in causing an erection, but seemed happy enough to watch, often tease us as we caused our own. One of the joys of this mom was that she liked to encourage us, and even offer various foods to play with, or put on our bodies, and likewise encourage us to get creative in how we snacked, or removed those foods. (Yup, donuts fit nicely on a young boy’s erection. Peanut Butter was hilarious at how much fun it was to apply, and how much work it took to remove.) The sister was definitely part of our normal play, and often would purposely give us erections. I always found it strange that the mom was more interested, and always grinned a bit more whenever her daughter would be playing with either of us. The mom enjoyed our erections and play, more when her daughter would do this, compared to when we did it ourselves. At that age, I did not understand this, but found it curious. The mom was the one who would suggest to the daughter different things she could try to see how we would react. To us, it was normal, and nothing to be ashamed of. Of course we totally welcomed it! It also was not kept secret from anyone else. We were open, and felt we had no reason to hide any of this, since we were not doing anything wrong.

They lived in some condos that had shared backyards. The entire set of condos made a circle around the common yard, or as we called it the backyard. Instead of a private fenced yard behind one house, it was a private fenced yard behind about ten houses. The back-fence of the common area was against a shopping center. In the back yard, it was considered a safe place to play whether naked, or clothed. We got naked, and ran around like we normally would, even in this common-setting, an erection was not a bad thing, as long as it was not done in a creepy way. All the neighbors knew one another, and there was never any trouble. There were other kids, too, and we all did the same here. That was just part of getting along socially. Often, if we got especially messy with food, we would be made to go outside, and there we could be as messy as we wanted, then just hose ourselves off. I had known them for many years, and none of us were uncomfortable with each other.

It seemed that in the recent months, it was like there were never parents at their house, and my friend began to act weird with his own erections, and get scary in the way he acted. His sister saw a difference in her brother, too. We both were uncomfortable around him now. Of course she had been growing and developing, but until recently, this had never become an issue. It was normal, and we all saw it with many of our friends. But in the recent moths, she began to stop playing, teasing her little brother because of how he was suddenly reacting toward her own changes. But she never stopped teasing me. She told me her little brother had changed, and he now was creepy, and had begun to develop enough that now he ejaculated, too, instead of just having ‘phantom ejaculations’, and this made her uncomfortable. As she began to develop, and also when he began to act creepy with his desires, she no longer wanted to encourage him like that, she would come to my house without him, or often we would be together at another neighbor’s home, in their courtyard, or any other place as long as her brother was not around.

To me, she was never a problem, and I enjoyed her. I never treated her any different as she developed. She was not the first girl I’d grown-up around. To me, she was a good friend, and I could not imagine being so rude just because someone’s body was growing up. I also noticed the few times I saw her dad around her when she was naked, and how he, too acted differently towards her and her newly forming breasts. Her brother seemed to want her attention more when he was naked, and often would grope her newly developing breasts, and rub his erect penis against her, and this made her uncomfortable, and made me uncomfortable, too. I could not understand the sudden changes I was seeing in him and their dad towards her. Suddenly, they both had a mean-almost hurtful look in their eyes as they looked at her now. To me, they were very disturbing, and I could see she was not comfortable with this either. She began to go into hiding her body. I told the dad he was being rude, and he got mad at me. I told my friend I was not comfortable in how he treated his sister now, and did not like being around his sudden changes. It seemed his mother was never home anymore. He also behaved different with his own nakedness even when she was not around. I had stopped going over there, because of how he acted.

I had discussed my concerns with anyone who would listen. Mostly, though my concerns were dismissed and never really went anywhere. This frustrated me, because I could see how this was trouble, and nobody else would believe me. People would reply and say things like “He’s just growing-up. That is what happens.” I disagreed, because I saw how the changes in him were turning bad, not just growing-up. I’d been around plenty of boys, and this one was not acting like he was simply growing-up. I knew they would just have to see for themselves, and again they would be amazed at how I knew before anyone else did.

It had been a while since I had gone to his house when he was there. This particular afternoon, his dad was not home. His sister was home, but not naked. He was acting weird, so I did not feel comfortable getting naked this time, just like many of the recent times I was near him. He had changed, and was no longer comfortable. He did, though, and immediately got an erection. The look in his eyes changed, and he scared me. He made it a point to rub against his sister before we went out the back door. I was disgusted. He also groped her breasts through her shirt and bra. She shoved him away, and I saw a fire in his eyes that was not good. He stormed out the back door, telling me follow him, so I would understand. He was parading around with his erection, and a wild look in his eyes. This was not something I enjoyed one bit. A few neighbors scorned him for how he was acting, but he no longer cared about what was right anymore. I did follow him though in hopes that I might gain understanding of what this was all about. I knew who He used-to-be, and I still grasped at the idea that he might return to the person everyone loved, and he used to be a trusted friends, so I hoped I could find an answer. (I was not  unaware of what changes happen to humans, and how they see things sexually that they did not previously, but to see someone I had shared so much with suddenly behaving in such a bad way baffled me. I knew the difference in a good way of accepting the changes, and a bad way. He was definitely not behaving in a good way.To me, it looked like he was behaving just like my brother, my uncle, and so many others I could not stand.)

We got to a section of the sidewalk fairly hidden by some bushes, and away from the other homes, against the back fence where the shopping center was. He squatted down, and pulled up a metal drain cover. Inside this drain, was a bundle wrapped in plastic. He got a really scary-look in his eyes as he did this. He pulled the bundle out, replaced the drain cover, and led me under the bushes. As he unwrapped the plastic, I could see what he had. He had a pile of magazines featuring naked women, and also naked men having sex with naked women. Basically, it was porn. As he opened them, the wild look got more scary. He shoved picture after picture in front of me. I was disgusted. He was thrilled. He was doing things with his own erection that made me very uncomfortable. I’d seen people having sex before, and to me it was simply that. Two people having sex. I could not imagine that it would be anything exciting for somebody to watch, or that in any way someone would want pictures of it, or somehow find it to be a thrill. I could not see how pictures in a magazine were exciting, or in any way something anyone would want to look at, let alone somehow be anything to get turned-on sexually about. He was beyond the point of talking to him. To him, suddenly this was the most important thing in the universe. He was beyond just a little-boy getting a cheap-thrill from looking at naked pictures. He had a scary-look in his eyes, and was not the friend I used to know. He continued to play with himself, and tried to get me to do the same to him. I refused. I grabbed those magazines, and threw them away from him. I shoved him backwards and asked why he thought this was so cool. He said, “Don’t you see? We could do that with my sister!” I was beyond astonished, and disgusted. He did not care about anything but what he was doing with himself. He made himself ejaculate, and almost got it on me, too. The look in his eyes was not of a friend, or even of a human who cared about any other human. I told him he was a disgusting person and I never wanted him around me again. I ripped up his magazines, and headed out. He did not care about me, or that I was leaving. He chased down his torn-up magazines. I had to go through their house to get outside.

As I went back, one of the neighbors who happened to be a registered “safehouse” on the block was coming out her back door. I told her what he was doing, and how disgusted I was. She told me others had just come to her to complain also, and that was why she was coming outside… to see what he was doing. She told me she would take care of it. I knew that meant she would call the police, because that sort of thing was not at all acceptable. She went back into her house. I went inside, and his sister asked me what was wrong. I told her. She hugged me, and apologized for how he had done that to me. She told me he had done that to her also, and that’s all he can think about now, and how her dad looks at her in the same creepy way. I felt horrible and wanted to throw up. How could anybody look at their own daughter, or sister like that? How could her brother somehow think he was behaving in a good way? We were both disgusted, and decided to go to the park and away from her brother, and the police that were on their way. We already knew he would blame us for the way he acted, instead of accepting his own actions were what got him into trouble.

The lady from the safehouse came to the park to tell us it was safe to return. She told us their mom was with him where they had taken him. She told us the boy had been yelling as they hauled him away about how he hated me, and his sister for doing this to him. We could not believe that he somehow thought his own bad-behavior somehow was our fault. After talking to many people about this, I learned that day that when people get the notion of sex in their brains, that is the most important thing to them, and no way it could be them misbehaving, it is someone else’s fault for their own troubles. They took him to “Juvi” (or Jeuvenile Hall). That was where they took kids who got into trouble with the law. I knew he would not be at school after that, and would be made to go to a strict school that handles out of control kids. His sister continued to be my friend, and thanked me for stepping-in like that. After a few days, her brother was released, and allowed to live at home, but he was on a strict-grounding, and had to follow very strict rules, plus go to special classes to teach him how to behave appropriately. Their mother had changed her work schedule to make sure she was always home when the boy was. The police warned the dad that if he acted that way towards the daughter again, he would be arrested, too. The girl had to stop being naked at home, to keep her dad or brother from doing anything wrong towards her. It was sad. She still had her naked freedom everywhere else, just not at her own home. At her own home, she had to lock her bedroom, and bathroom door, so they would not come-in. She had to hide her body all the time at her own home, because her dad and brother did not know how to behave. All the people in the neighborhood, and the schools knew what the boy and dad had done. It served as a good lesson to everyone to not be creepy about their sexual desires.

I actually was glad the boy forced the issue on me, or the girl would have likely been harmed horribly. Who knows how many people saw what he did, and decided not to do the same thing? She and I remained friends, just never at her house. She was in my life until I turned twelve. She was 16. We moved from that neighbor hood when I was ten, and only occasionally returned over the next two years. She was driving the last time I saw her, and even had a boyfriend. She (and her friends) still enjoyed giving me erections any chance they got, and I never once looked at her differently. They were trusted friends, and in no way was I ever made to feel anything shameful, or embarrassed by them. I also could not grasp the notion of anybody wanting to have sex. Sure, the erections were good, but why would I want to ruin a good thing? I was just a little kid to her… but one she grew up with, and could still “play” with in a harmless way. One of her friends teased me one day and asked how I felt about them being “cock-teases”. I had to admit I did not know what that meant. They weren’t sure they should tell me since I did not know, and was “just a kid”. They explained what it meant. I laughed, and told them they were hardly teasing anything. From their definition that would mean that any boy they gave an erection to was somehow expecting to have sex, or to have an orgasm. I told them I thought it was silly that anyone would think that just because he had an erection, they should have something more. They explained that most boys and all men think they should, and I was different. They explained why I was safe, and they could be free around me. That was why they liked to have me around. They explained that most boys their own age, were always interested in sex, and glad I would not at all grow up to be like them. I agreed. I liked that I was always safe for the girls. She thanked me over and over for helping her.

I have no doubt that behaviors like this helped to form my own views about why an erection should be hidden. But at the same time, I have soo many more events to share, and that have actually been positive, happy, and in no way bad.

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This post is becoming quite lengthy, and I feel if I wait until I have written all I need to say, it will be an entire book. So I have chosen this point to break-it-off. No worries! I will continue my thoughts on erections, my own feelings, experiences, and discoveries about why I have chosen to hide my own… and how I am slowly learning to accept who I am, and allow others to see me in that way, too.

I know ending this where I did does not create any conclusion… and leaves it quite hanging. I guess that is a good thing, right? I have no choice, but to return to post more… (UPDATE: I Have written a second part to this. You can see it here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2013/02/erections-when-i-was-little-boy.html

Meanwhile, enjoy your own erections, see what causes them, and be not afraid to openly admit it… Just don’t be creepy about it!