Erections... when I was a Little Boy

This is the second-part of a continuation of the topic of erections. 

I am Different than most males, and it has often troubled me in how an erection is viewed by most, compared to how it is for me. This has not been an easy topic to finally allow myself to address, discuss, or even to allow another to know how I feel about it. It quite literally is The Hardest Topic I've Ever written about! (No Pun intended...) But I welcome you to find the humor, and fun in an area I finally am learning to accept about myself, and allow others to understand as well.

To understand a bit-more of what this writing explores, its roots, feelings, and reasons for even writing, please feel free to read the First Part. 

~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. Please... Enter with An Open Mind... Or Closed Eyes.

This picks-up where I left-off in the first writing (linked above)... You can read this without having read the first-part, but it will make more sense if you know the full-story...

What caused erections for little boys?

(Or the explorations and experiments of little boys n girls):

It was never shameful to see what would cause an erection in a little boy. (Those erections happened quite easily , and often, without much help!) As little kids, it was not uncommon to see where we could fit our penises. Likewise, it was not uncommon for the girls to see what could be fit inside of their own openings. We discovered how some places it would go only when soft, but other places it would go better when it was hard. We discovered it was a bad idea to stick it into a coke bottle… although it fit nicely when it was soft, but the moment it got hard, you could not get it out! Likewise, the girls decided if a coke bottle was such a good fit on a penis, it would be an even better fit in their own openings. To say we had imagination and fun would be an understatement. Of course we joked about the poor bottle-guy at the store who counted these when we returned them! We almost always got erections while swimming naked. I was fun to watch and even to feel as another boy got an erection in the water verses out of the water. The girls delighted in using swim masks to watch under water as we flailed about and tried to “swim with a rudder”.

Who was Allowed to Play?:

(And is it considered ‘sex’ if you are kids?):

We had no notion that it was somehow considered bad that a boy would give another boy an erection, or to feel, play and discover it. It was all healthy, clean fun. Nobody around us was a homophobe, or put those silly notions into our heads.  As little kids, we were allowed to be kids, and nobody made it weird, or sexual. It was simply just learning, exploring, and discovering. Yes, we discovered how it would fit differently into a vagina whether soft or hard. The girls were equally curious, and often the ones to initiate, and try this. Often this was attempted while swimming, or in a bath… the water making it both more challenging, and also more fun.  In a bathtub, it was not as challenging, because the girl usually had the boy pinned down. Also in the bath, they easily discovered the joys of soaps, and bubbles, and how that changed the way it was more slippery. But, in the pool while swimming, the challenge was for the girl to see if she could manage to insert it while the boy was not holding still, also not having anything to make it slippery. We learned that this same activity was not as fun in the sand, or dirt. We found what would fit inside a garden hose, and likewise where that garden hose would fit. This was made even more fun when the water was suddenly turned-on by someone else, and the person playing was not expecting it! It was never a situation of anyone being forced, or made to do something they were not happy with. To us, this was fun, educational, and a great way to learn.

When Good, Clean Play Became Bad For Me:

The only times it was different was if someone would say something to make it “sexual”… such as the obvious “you are having sex” or “we are making babies”. I would hate that! To the girls, or the others around, they did not see it as any different and found it cute to say. I would instantly be repulsed, and could not get away fast enough. None of the people around could understand how that made it bad for me. It was the same action, just with different words. To me, they had just taken something fun and innocent and made it something totally different. The girls loved the thought of “Playing, ‘Lets make a baby’ “. We were not alone often, and the adults watched, but often let us do as we pleased, as long as we did no harm. When an adult would see this happen, they would chuckle. Then admonish whoever said the offending words. But still be giggling. We all knew what it was, but to label it made it something completely different (for me, anyhow). I knew we could not make babies until we grew, and developed further, so it was simply just play… until someone went and mentioned it as otherwise. Often the adults would watch, or encourage, but they left the actual explorations, or desire to see what could or could not be done to our own discoveries.  I always enjoyed them, until someone would mention anything relating the erection to something about sex.  Then I would be humiliated. But if it was not labeled as sexual, I was allowed to enjoy it. I was never offended by simply playing with an erection, until someone made it sexual. That just weirded me out.

Detailed Learning:

(The confusion, and conflict when your views are not like any other’s)

There were a few older people who did in fact teach me much about my body. I was taught about how to feel, understand, and know what I did and did not like, and to discover these feelings for myself, not base them on another’s beliefs. Even as a young boy, I baffled other people who sought to teach, and help me understand what I desired to know. The decisions I came to often did not match those who thought I should feel differently. But they accepted how I felt, rather than attempt to make me think the same as they did. I saw early in life that I was not seeing things the same as others did. Sure, I was conflicted hugely by this. Imagine that everything you find out about yourself is unlike any other human you have ever met… That will screw with a person’s mind!

Understanding the “Wisdom” of The Older People:

(Older… meaning even a year or two older Equals Aged Wisdom, Right?)

I learned very early how touch, and even sensual, intimate touch can be an incredible and wonderful feeling. I learned how to enjoy that touch, and even welcome the reactions it caused. Often the most visible reaction was an erection. I also learned early in life that when not treated as a bad thing, an erection can be wonderful. I learned that if everyone involved had no bad intentions, or ever did anything bad or harmful, there was never any shame, or even anything bad associated with an erection. As a child, I had so many wonderful memories that also included erections. I never once was made to ejaculate. I knew it was designed to happen and it would eventually. I knew how people talked about how it felt and that it was supposed to be the absolute best thing to happen. But I never had one, and did not even expect to, or know when I was supposed to, since to me the erections, and whatever caused them was never done to cause an orgasm. I remembered studying, asking and learning from anyone who would humor my inquiries. Surprisingly, I got most of my information from girls and women. Some of my most trusted female friends were the ones that were older than me, so they had the “wisdom” that came with age. Also, I got much of my knowledge from people like my Gramma, or close family-friends. My Grampa, and even his neighbor (one of my older female friends was his daughter, so they were similarly good at explaining things) were incredible at putting things into words, but they were about the only guys I ever met who could do that. Most guys just could not put anything about this into words.

What is a Phantom Orgasm?

I learned that I would indeed have ‘Phantom Orgasms’ until I developed further, and my body was ready to actually have an ejaculation. I learned I had already had these phantom orgasms since as long as I could remember. Those were wonderful! And I remembered how after having those, my penis would lose the erection, and slowly become soft again. The feeling and sensations that remained were ones I cherished. To me, this was perfect. I learned that most boys, and most men would complain if they had gotten an erection, but never had an orgasm. To them, the feeling of the erection caused discomfort, and the only relief was to orgasm… whether phantom as a young boy, or ejaculation as an older one. This was another area where I discovered I was different. To me, It was never uncomfortable to have an erection. It was blissful always. Even if I never had a phantom orgasm, it still never caused discomfort. I was the opposite. (And oddly enough, still am!) I never, ever complained about the feeling an erection would cause. I would cherish, and hope to keep it as long as was possible. I never cared about the phantom orgasm, or if it ever came. Eventually, all erections go away, and I still felt like they were so wonderful. I was the oddball, and everyone knew this. So, most boys would be eager to either have it go away as soon as possible, or hope to continue whatever would cause the phantom orgasm.

Some of the best memories I have include those who were comfortable enough for me to be around, and comfortable enough to know how to cause the erection, plus cause the phantom orgasm. From what I was told about actual ejaculation, and orgasm, verses the Phantom one, I was led to believe that whatever good feeling there was created in the phantom orgasm, the actual one, when it came would be way better. I had seen older boys, and even men have an orgasm. To me, it did not look like they were enjoying it one bit, or that it was in any way a good feeling. I already knew the fluid that came out in an orgasm was (to me) disgusting, sticky, and nothing I wanted anything to do with! I was not looking forward to my own body creating that mess. I wondered if the orgasm would be as bad as It looked like it would. Since most people already said the stuff they liked and thought felt good were proving to not feel good to me, I suspected the supposed bliss of an orgasm would also be something I would not enjoy. Their faces, and body language told me way more than their words did. I knew that time would come eventually, but was in no hurry for that to happen. To me, everything was perfect now. There was no mess, and those girls I played with also were in no danger of getting pregnant until I was able to ejaculate. I learned everything I could about the body, because I liked to know, understand, and be aware of what could happen, and does happen. I did discuss these topics with almost any female I could get interested. The part about getting pregnant was a huge fear for most young girls. They were always happy to not have that concern. At this time in our lives, it was considered simply just kids playing, and not sexual. It most-definitely was considered sexual once ejaculations could occur (and messy, too!) Again, I was thrilled to still be allowed to play, and not at all considered sexual. I was happy to not have that worry. The last thing I would ever do on this Earth was anything that could possibly create a baby!

Learning About Comfortable, verses Uncomfortable:

I tell the story above (In the first-part, previously posted) about a friend when I was 8 that behaved badly with an erection. He was not the only one. I saw others, too, and learned early how to stay clear of those people, and never allow them to touch you, or to ever allow yourself to be seen naked, or especially with an erection near them. What I could not understand was why some people behaved badly, and seemed to think that because they had a penis, it was perfectly acceptable. I knew if something made you uncomfortable in that way, it was best to not be around. I had already programmed myself to distance myself from anyone who made me uncomfortable because of naked, or an erection. Imagine my conflict when I finally had my first ejaculation, and discovered how horrible it made me feel! The conflict came not because I wanted to get away from the person who caused it, but because it was caused by someone I loved, trusted, enjoyed always being with, and had been one of my best friends since birth! How could I suddenly hate the way someone so important made me feel? It was caused by someone who I absolutely did not want to be apart from…

Did I lose My Virginity at age 10?

(Gasp!~ Or even by age 5?)

In my blog about My Grampa and I becoming Naked Smurfs, I mention quite often the girl from next door. She was a very important person in my life as a kid. We grew up together. In that blog, (and almost every one previous to this, I had not revealed the parts about the erections, because I was still too mortified to talk about them, After writing the blog about the hitchhiker, I found I was ready, and the time was appropriate.) She was two years older than me. My Gramma and Grampa liked to tease us regularly and call her my “girlfriend”. This embarrassed us both immensely. But at the same time, we understood why they said this, but neither of us was ready to be called that. She also was the one who caused my very first true orgasm. This had happened about a year before the Naked Smurfs week. I remember the day very well. I was either 10 or 11. The neighbor girl and I often spent entire days playing together. She and her friends were some of my most trusted friends, and often just being around her I got an erection. Often, she and her friends would purposely cause them. She had given me erections since I was born. She was two, I was a newborn. They all told me later, once I was old enough to know what they were telling me that the very first time she met me, she immediately grabbed my penis, and tugged on it until it was hard. This gave all the adults a good laugh, and they knew we would always be friends, and there would be no boundaries between us. Every time she was near me, she played with it more. To my grandparents and her parents, this was endlessly funny. Occasionally they used this to our embarrassment. They all immediately referred to her as my girlfriend. Sheesh, I had a girlfriend as soon as I was Born… and she liked to play with my penis!

Something is Different:

(Changes I was not thrilled with)

Anyhow, It was not uncommon for her to give me an erection, and also a phantom ejaculation. This was nothing shameful, especially around Gramma and Grampa, or even in front of her own family, or any of the people we were regularly around. Like I mentioned before, I almost always got an erection when I swam naked. Of Course with her here, I Always got an erection… Often caused intentionally by her.  We both found it amusing, and enjoyable. On this day, it was no different, … …until we noticed something was different with my erection. Grampa was working on something sitting at the patio table next to the pool. She and I had swam, naked of course. She had purposely caused the erection, and kept it continuing for quite a while. She often would see if she could get it inside her while we played (of course I did not object!) She did, and commented it felt different this time. I agreed. Something had changed. I could feel it was different, too. She had begun to develop and change, and we both noted the changes as she did. But this time, we both noticed I felt and fit differently. My own erection was different, looked, felt, and moved differently. I was not at all ashamed to have Grampa see this, nor was she ashamed to have him see her do this. This was just part of our playing, our connection. Other than the difference we noticed in the way I felt and fit, this was no different than any other time… Except once we were in the sun, and she played some more, she noticed some fluid seeping from the tip. (yes, we each were quite familiar with each other’s body functions, and even pee’d together quite often. In our freedom, yes we had even explored and learned enough to know what a drop of the other’s pee felt and looked like. We were very comfortable with each other.) She continued to play, and work more out, I could tell it was something different, too. But it was not flowing, just barely seeping. As she explored, and worked more out, effectively moving the fluid around the tip, she caused it to become quite slippery. We both understood what this was. She grinned, and said “it is time”. We both knew it, but she was the first to say it. Not only had I studied, learned and asked everyone who would allow my inquiries, She also was one who told me about this in her “aged wisdom”. She played only a bit more, then stopped, to not cause the ejaculation yet. I looked at her, and told her she could no longer try to put it in. She looked sad, and agreed. We both knew this change in me would forever change the way we could play.

Grampa’s Humorous Advice: “Get Into the Pool, So You Don’t Get It In Her Eye…”

Grampa had noticed, too, and was watching, grinning. As He Chuckled, He said, “Can I offer a bit of advice? Get into the pool, so it won’t get in her eye, and you won’t end up all sticky.” We laughed at this, but agreed. All of us knew The time had come. Sure, we easily could have just ignored it, and let it go away, but we knew the importance of it, and without discussing it, knew we needed to continue it this time. We got into the pool, and began to swim. I knew other boys absolutely loved it when they changed and had their first orgasm. I already had my doubts about it, because of how it made me feel already. The swimming, and the motion of the “rudder moving against the water” did nothing to calm the feeling, it only made it more uncomfortable. I absolutely did not like this new feeling one bit. I stopped swimming. She of course was right next to me. She also could tell how it was making me feel. It was nothing uncommon for her to touch, hold, squeeze, and know every detail of how my body felt, reacted,and moved. Not only could I feel it was affecting me differently, but so could she. As I held onto the edge of the pool, she felt, and "inspected" what I was experiencing. She, too could tell this was not doing good for me, and she suggested we go to the shallow end where we could stand. I told her I felt sick, and could not swim. She took me to the shallow end, and helped me stand. I could barely stand, so we went to the steps to sit, still in the water. I told her I felt funny. I really was not feeling good all of a sudden. She could see how this was not good for me. She held me in a hug. She knew me very well, and also could feel it herself. She whispered, “It is time. Can I help, or do you want to do it alone?”  I knew from what she had told me, she had experience with this already with other boys. I really did not like the way I was feeling. I could not describe the feeling, but it was awful! I could tell it was going to happen, whether she helped or not. Part of me wanted to just be left alone, but also part of me wanted her with me. I could not answer, and was seeming to go into what I called a crash. Those around me knew what happened to me when I went into a crash. It meant I was beginning to feel like I was becoming an unconscious puddle on the floor, yet I was still upright. A Crash to me was when I felt more of everything that was happening, was tuned-into EVERY feeling, emotion, and affect on my body... both inside, and out, yet at the same time could not vocalize, or explain what was happening. For anybody watching, it would seem I was becoming unconscious, yet never actually doing so. For me, it was an overload of everything I felt, feeling every detail in way too much detail, and I mostly-was not conscious, yet I still was. To me, it was a complete overload of the senses. She was familiar with my crashes, and had learned well how to help me.

Orgasm, or Taking of My Soul??:

Since I could not answer, and she understood, she “helped”.  While I wanted nothing more than to be left alone, and not have anybody near me when I felt so horrible, I also totally welcomed that she knew, and was helping. I knew she was the perfect one to be with when this happened, even if I was feeling worse than I ever had. She literally lifted me onto her lap (facing away, not toward her), and wrapped both arms, and even her legs around me, so I felt completely wrapped in comfort, and her love. She was gentle, placing one hand on my penis, and the other on my testicles. (They were still very tiny, and tight against my body. They had always been small, and tight, but now they were tighter than they had ever been, and they hurt.) She massaged, but could not take away the horrific pain and pressure I was feeling, the feeling of something draining every ounce of good from my body...from the core of my body. But her touch helped make me feel not like I was suffering it alone. She seemed to know more about this than I did, but I also was in no way feeling I wanted any part of any of what was happening. If I could have, I would have run as far and fast as possible, climbed a tree to the highest point, and isolated myself, never allowing such a feeling to EVER happen to me. But I was almost paralyzed, feeling almost unconscious, and unable to think, function, or do anything. But I Felt EVERY Detail in Magnification, and excruciating detail. It was an overload of what I was feeling. I hated it! Her hand on my penis was just comfortably gripping, tenderly massaging, and her fingers were slightly moving across the tip. I could tell that even in the pool water, the drops seeping of lubricant were still very effective. I could tell what she was doing, and why. She managed to make everything smooth and slippery, instead of rough with friction. She knew how to even make a bad thing feel as good as possible. She definitely understood how to be gentle, yet effective. Her touch, and the way she helped move the lubricant around were very soothing… But that was the only thing that felt good down there.  My entire body began to tense, I felt my tiny testicles get painfully hard, and tight~seeming like they were squeezed like you would squeeze a lemon to get every bit of pulp and juice (yet the squeezing feel was not by her hand, it was internal), seeming to withdraw inside my body, but it was like my entire soul felt like it was being removed. I felt like every ounce of positive energy I had in my body was suddenly taken away. I knew it was not something I could stop, and just had to suffer-through. She held me. She continued with her hands, until the final second. She knew enough to move her hand away from the tip, and not let any get on her, or me. She knew I would not want any of that against her, and certainly would not want it on myself. As it left my body, She helped make sure it all got out, by gently squeezing, and pushing the rest out, and keeping the water moving so it carried it way, instead of sticking to me. The way she held, massaged gently, softly, caring was the ONLY part that felt good. I was conscious, but felt (and Wished!) I was unconscious. I felt absolutely sick, felt like anything positive in me had just been robbed by some evil phantom, and I was now filled with nothing but bad energy. I was confused, I was feeling so weak, and like my entire soul was just stolen, and wished I could flee. I wanted to hate her for making me feel such an awful thing (but I knew it was not her fault, it was just how I was made). But I also wanted to just have her hold me, knowing it was her who helped me, and not her fault I was wired differently, and also not at all her fault that I had begun to change. I also was happy that If such a thing had to happen (which I knew It would, and it was just part of growing-up) I was Happy it was with her. She was The Perfect Friend!

Rescue Me!

Grampa saw that it had happened, but also saw that I did not seem to feel good, or find it pleasurable. He also was Very familiar with my crashes. She began to help move me out of the pool. Grampa quickly came and helped her walk me from the water. They laid me down on my back in the sun. She grabbed a towel, and dried me off, making sure there was none stuck on me in the process. She not only knew me well, she felt the way it made me feel.  She had been familiar enough with my life to know what I needed. First, she wrapped herself around me in a comforting hug. Then after a few moments, she began to massage. Gramma had taught her how to massage properly, and she had witnessed Gramma do exactly this same thing when I had many of my previous crashes at Gramma’s house. From her touch and technique, if I had not known it was her, I would have suspected it was Gramma. I was still able to feel everything, just felt like I wished I was not alive. I could feel it was her hands, and could feel how she knew how to remove the negative, and fill me with the positive energy. She massaged exactly as Gramma had. She began to massage my head, then slowly work on massaging my face. Then worked her way down my entire body. She effectively removed all the bad energy, and replaced it with her own good energy. Although she did not miss an inch, she was careful to not do too much in the penis area right now. After she worked her way down to my feet, she turned me over. Then she worked her way back up. By now, once she reached the top of my legs, she could tell my penis had become not so sensitive and she was free to massage it too. She could tell when it was good, and when it was not. (Just like she's seen Gramma do many times.) She massaged without needing to roll me back over. After thoroughly massaging my entire back-side, I had gained enough energy to roll over again. I rolled onto my side, and puller her close. We snuggled for a bit. I was really glad that when it had to happen she was the one who was there. I told her she learned well, and my Gramma would be proud. She smiled, and told me she often watched Gramma take care of me, so she knew how also. I told her the only difference was I could feel it was her hands, not Gramma’s. She smiled, quite proud of herself.

My Gramma Had taught Her Well!

(Yes, Gramma massaged everything. Gramma was always safe, and one who taught me much about my own body. Nobody ever thought Gramma to be inappropriate. She knew the human body well, and had studied Kinesiology, Reflexology, and so many other things that were helpful. Anyone who ever spent time at Gramma’s house welcomed her ways with the body. It was never shameful, or something that was hidden. Gramma even often would help young people understand how to touch, feel, and make another feel wonderful. Would it be wrong to admit the erections caused by Gramma were often the most cherished?) It took me long enough in life to finally be willing to openly admit much I have never disclosed (well not disclosed since I was 12...) But, yep! I will admit what I would not for so many years. Gramma knew touch, sensuality, and understood the human body quite well!

Snuggle, and relax:

We snuggled for quite a while as I slowly gained energy again. Once she saw me gaining life and color again, she kissed me, smiling quite proudly. I told her “Don’t ever make me do THAT again.” We both laughed. Grampa was still sitting at the table. He commented, “Well, chalk another one up that you gotta do differently.” We all laughed. And I groaned, too. Ugh. We lay in the sun, just holding each other and resting the rest of the afternoon.

After that day, we still played mostly like we always had, just careful to never take me to that point again.

Age 12. New Home, You Don’t Fit-in anymore:

I was looking for a picture of me at 12... found this one of me at 13 instead.

Until the age of twelve I never saw my own erections as harmful, shameful, or anything that was thought to be forbidden, hidden, or secret. I had become aware of the difference one I could ejaculate, but made sure to never let it go there again. We moved to Oregon when I was twelve, I was suddenly around an entirely new group of people. The life I knew, and learned how to fit into nicely was suddenly ripped away from me. Suddenly everyone who saw me simply naked, not even with an erection, acted like it was somehow a creepy thing, and saw it as only sexual. Even my own family had suddenly stopped allowing me to be naked. I didn’t even dare to ever allow an erection to be seen. I was confused and baffled, and could find no safe place in my new world. I never once saw my own erections as sexual, except the few times as a little kid that I mentioned earlier. At the age of twelve, I suddenly went into hiding, and never again felt comfortable in allowing another to see me naked, let-alone see, feel or cause my erections. It became an imprisonment of the worst kind. I began to become a loner, and never want to be near others, because I did not know how to fit in anymore. I went into hiding in almost every way. I knew the difference between someone who was safe, trusted, and in no way looking to harm me, and those who were bad, and only sought to hurt another. But others seemed to misinterpret who I was, and what my intentions were. I have written many times about naked freedom, explorations, and discoveries I had as a child. I have written about those who were completely safe, and those who were not. But one topic I have never before fully disclosed was the topic of my penis and how it conflicts me like this. Suddenly, every person I was around would not accept me naked, erection, or not. (There were a few exceptions, of course, but I mostly had to live a secret-life when it involved anything naked, or anyone seeing ANY Aspect of my body.)

Hide My Penis until age 19:

I am wired absolutely differently than any other human. While most find a feeling in both sex and in drugs (even in alcohol) that is appealing to them, it is the opposite for me.  I did not do Anything with anybody that might involve my penis from the age of twelve until I finally allowed myself to have a girlfriend at the age of 19. Then I tried to figure out how to feel what others felt, and called enjoyable in life. Imagine how for so much of my life, I TRIED, Really tried to find out why so many liked these. The alcohol and sex were easy to keep trying, but the drugs… No way. What I have tried in the department of drugs is limited, and could be written in a couple of sentences, but those are still reserved for the few who I care to discuss that with in a private manner. But as far as the Sex and alcohol goes, I was baffled. I thought “these people must be crazy to think something that makes you feel so awful could be a good thing.” I thought “How come so many people like things that make them feel like that?” I even thought that maybe if I just tried more, or with different people I would see how they thought it felt good. But it never did. I always wished I never had done it. To say I was confused about what people thought was good, compared to what I thought was bad was an understatement! (And dare I even mention masturbation?? Nope, I do not like that either…. Well, there are qualifications to that statement… but that gets into a completely different topic. One about whether it involves orgasm, or not, and also what, or why the occurrence may happen…. But for this post, I will keep it simply at I do not care for that either.)

It took years and years of talking to people about what they found to be good in the department of sex, sexuality, and “pleasures” that would fall under that category. I also allowed myself to be open to trying new things, to see if maybe that might change how it was for me, or give me a different feel. I found that what they felt, was not the same as what I felt. Even talking with the partners I have had. With us both sharing the same exact event, I was amazed at what I felt as a bad feeling, and wished it had not happened, yet they felt the opposite, and wanted more of the same. Dare I say I became obsessed with finding out what others liked, and why? I began to learn what others like, how they like it, and to even study more about the human anatomy. I have always loved the infinite wonders of the incredible machine called the human body. To embark on studying more about what made people feel good, what they liked and why, was nothing but pure desire of feeding my insatiable desire for learning. Almost any female I was with, even those who I was not intimate with, I would learn about their desires, and how they accomplished these. I could see the pleasure, and how much it did for them… whether I was the one doing them, or someone else was. But I wanted to know. Yeah, It is weird. I liked to learn about what was good for people like that, but at the same time, I absolutely hated anything sexual. I understood this, too, though. I thrive on helping others, and want them to achieve happiness, and feel good in life. I am usually willing to do almost anything if it will help another… the exception is if it causes myself harm. Harm to myself would include making me feel bad, or feel like I had done something I later regretted.

I AM Non-Sexual:
(That term baffles most…)

I have a rule in life: Harm No One. That includes one’s own self. In following this rule, I have come to the conclusion that I will not have sex. Period. No, I am not “celibate”, or would I even claim to be “abstinent”. Simply put, those are typically religious views about how some go about not having something they otherwise would desire. I am simply “Non-Sexual”. DON'T WANT IT. DON'T NEED IT. DON'T LIKE IT. PERIOD.

What Does "Non-Sexual" Mean?:

This term baffles many. Most understand the terms often associated in a sexual society: Those terms could easily include, but are not limited to the following: heterosexual, bisexual, homosexual, gay, transgender, bi-curious, lesbian, bro-love, or even man-love, celibate, abstinent, or even the many that are often associated with fantasy, and role-playing. There are even names, groupings and labels for the different types of gatherings, or situations where any type of sex may occur. I will not begin to list these, for the list is endless. I am sure I am forgetting to include many labels, but that is exactly what they are: Labels. For some reason everyone feels the need to categorize any sexual activity into some group, or definition. But for me to apply a label to myself about my own sexual activity, or to be more accurate: My own desire to not want any sex, and call myself “Non-Sexual” baffles most. Although the label does infact state exactly what it is, and there is no hidden meaning, or even any way to mistake its meaning, most readily admit they cannot grasp this meaning.

What About Kissing, Snuggling?:

I have been asked if I would still kiss, and snuggle. My answer to this would be “that depends on the reason for wanting to kiss, and snuggle”. I have been kissed many times by friends, or even someone I barely know simply to show gratitude, and appreciation. I also have slept, snuggled and shared very close moments with people. Some I have known a lifetime, and others I have known only moments. Sometimes, I have shared these snuggles while naked, other times completely clothed, or even somewhere in between. I cannot claim that I am against kissing, snuggling, or closeness… unless those kisses, and snuggles are a hidden agenda to attempt something sexual. Likewise, I also have been asked if touching is allowed. By all means, yes! But there are situations when touching is not welcomed, too. If the touch is meant to be sexual, or to place someone in a position of feeling vulnerable, used, or in any way dirty, ashamed, or like they wished it did not happen, then the touching would be not acceptable. But not all touch is sexual, even if it includes the penis. Often people touch to learn, understand, or simply because they are comfortable, and not-in-any way desire anything sexual. Touch can be a wonderful expression between two people. 

Might You Be Gay?:

In the attempt of others to figure me out, and even to find something I could like about sex, it has been suggested that maybe I was gay, and just did not like females. That one always makes me chuckle, because it is the exact opposite. It does not matter if it were male or female, it is totally about how I am wired, and how sexuality makes me feel… Not about who the other person is. But, again, our world feels the need to label, or place people into categories. They cannot grasp that I do not fit into any of the supposed categories. As far as relationships go, I am mostly attracted to females… but of course, it is not so simple as to say “A male could not interest me.” Sure, there is always that possibility that the right person could come along, and if that person happened to have a penis, I would not for sure immediately say “no way.” I just do not find many males I would be attracted to, let alone wish to spend any amount of time with.  If I understood males better, that might be a different story. But it is not about whether I could love a male, or a female. It is that I am Non-Sexual. Period.  The things that turn a male on, and the things they desire, and do that are sexual are absolutely nothing I am able to connect with, find pleasure in, or even to just to pretend. Similarly, I have indeed talked to many males about what they desire, and what makes them feel good. I have sought understanding, and tried to find out how come they feel this way. Most males cannot put into words what they feel, why they feel that way, and why they act, or desire the things they do. Most males cannot tell another what they would like, and why. Most males cannot tell someone about the reactions, desires, and feelings they have. This makes it extremely difficult for me to gain an understanding. The way most males do things does not at all connect with me, or make sense to me. I cannot find an appreciation for much of the male anatomy, or how it works, because I am a male, yet I have never found one who feels, thinks, or acts like I do. Similarly, I am not shaped, sized, or built like most males. Attempting to connect on an intellectual, emotional, or mental level with males is almost impossible for me. Connecting with females on those levels comes naturally to me. I cannot find books, or other learning aids that demonstrate anything about males that would be the same as it is for me. So, connecting with males in most aspects of life is nearly impossible for me. I cannot understand why males find such a bond with other males. I cannot grasp what males want and why.

Most men Baffle Me:

I am baffled by how to me, most males act and seem gay, yet will deny that they are. I have nothing against any form of love. If two people like each other, and can find mutual love, joy, and sex, then by all means, please do! But what baffles me is when men are attracted to one another, but will flat-out claim they are not. They are only lying to themselves. One of my biggest turn-offs toward another human is when they feel they should lie. I cannot accept that, and will put walls up to block them out faster than if they tried to harm me with a weapon. The rest of the world sees it, but they find it somehow acceptable to deny. The world seems to accept male to male interactions as “just being male”, and for some reason denies it is in any way gay. But it totally is. Also, most of our world encourages males to hide their feelings toward another male. This too is something I cannot connect to. Call it what it is, and stop lying about it. Even in non-sexual areas of life (yes, I am aware of the irony that “to a male, there is no part of life that is not sexual.”) I cannot find a connection to most males. So to suggest that I might find sexual pleasure with a human that I cannot connect to in any way, cannot find attractive, and cannot understand would be like saying I should have sex with an empty toilet-paper tube. Either way… No thanks. Do not mistake this as hatred toward males. I do not hate males. I simply do not understand most of them…. Nor do I understand the connection most females find in males.

 I have no problem with the penises of the males in this world. I do have a problem with how sexual everyone makes a penis. I have a problem with how nobody can see a penis, and not think of it in a sexual way.

THAT Is Exactly What I have a problem with, causes me my own embarrassments, and makes the fact that I was born with a penis a problem. I have a penis. It gets in the way. It often gets hard, and I feel I must hide it from the world. Writing about the hitchhiker caused me to realize how much I have again gone back into hiding my penis, and being ashamed, embarrassed, and mortified that anyone might notice I have reactions. To have a reaction, and not desire anything sexual, or wish to orgasm is a huge trouble for me.  Why Would it be such a trouble, and Why Have I gotten so easily humiliated, and allowed myself to be Mortified if I get an erection?

Why Is This Subject So hard For Me?:

This post is such a hard one to write (no pun intended.) It is one of the most difficult subjects I have ever put into words. When I began to write about the hitchhiker, I realized how much I needed to explore this, and figure out why I imprison myself so much. This writing has caused me to finally be able to say what it is I want to hide. I have had a flood of emotions that have resurfaced because of how deep this goes with me. It is amazing how just the act of writing out my feelings can make me re-live, and feel exactly what I thought I had long ago left behind, and buried. Last night while writing about my first ejaculation, and how I hated it so much, not only did I find the words to describe how it felt, but also I Physically felt it again. I got physically sick just by connecting to that time so long ago, got a crippling headache, and even threw-up.  I had to leave the writing until this morning.

I have never denied that I am a feeling-based individual. Often those feelings are crippling. I have so much more I need to write about erections, and how they affect me (both good and bad!), but for now, I must leave it as it is. Thank You for Caring enough to read my thoughts. I know I write long posts, but I have a lot to sort, and finally let out. The searching, understanding, and finding ways to put so many feelings into words is such a free-ing experience! Yeah, it hurts so much some times to delve into the hidden parts of my soul, and re-live such experiences... But it also feels so good to finally be able to Be Free! I Hope You Allow Yourself to Find Your Freedoms in Life!

If there is anything you wish to ask, or might be curious about me, how my body works, or how I feel about anything, Please feel free to ask! Who knows... I might just learn something about myself, too! I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY! (and that your erections are good, in whatever way is good for you! ~=:-)

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! 

The Summer Grampa and I became Naked Smurfs!

The Summer of 1979 was one that would turn out to be One of My Most Cherished Ever!

It also would have The Day My Grampa and I Became Naked Smurfs!

This morning, I was happily reminded of a time long ago when My Grampa and I became Naked Smurfs, and subsequently, Skinny-Dipping Smurfs. (It was The One and ONLY time My Grampa happily got naked that I know of!) Yes, I am fully aware that The proper way to spell it is ‘Grandpa’… But He was My Grampa! J

I Cherish This One Day with My Grampa more than any other. I had many wonderful times with my Grampa, and many wonderful memories, But This is THE ONE, and Only time I can claim that we Were Both Happy, Naked, … and Blue, like Smurfs! It is the ONE and ONLY time it was not a bad thing when those around Me actually mentioned, and pointed at my penis.

Awww, wasn't I a cute kid at age 11? :)

I was 11 at the time, so this would have been the summer of 1979. Yup! We were naked, Blue, and didn’t have a care in the world!

What, you might ask, reminded me of this wonderful time so long ago? As I was doing my laundry this morning, I walked past the pool in my apartment complex. The maintenance guys were painting the fence, using brushes and rollers. The paint is a blue-green color. They were discussing how much faster it would be if they could paint the fence using spray. One of the things they mentioned was that all the spray would end up in the pool. This made me smile, and took me back to that wonderful day when I managed to make my Grampa’s pool a funny color of blue!

As a child, It was not uncommon for my sister and me to spend a week at our Grandparents’ house during the summer. It also was not uncommon to have some of our friends stay there with us. I always enjoyed whatever time I got to spend there. I had friends in the neighborhood, and it was The Most Comfortable, Safe environment in my entire childhood. Until the age of ten, we only lived a few miles from them, and we would still consider it a great “vacation” when we got to stay overnight, or for a whole week. But just after I turned ten, we moved an hour-and-a-half away from them, so the visits became less-frequent.

Grandma and Grandpa always had plenty for us to keep busy with while we were there. Sometimes they came up with creative lists of things that would not only be productive, but also would be fun, adventurous, and sometimes considered “work”. Most of the time, any project, chore, or “work” they created was enthusiastically welcomed by us. They let us create our own schedule, and decide what, if any, of these lists we would accomplish. (But most of the time, we eagerly took on any of the challenges they came up with.) Also, there was endless swimming, sunning, pool (as in billiards), barbeques, a fire-pit, garden, immense landscaping, trees to climb, fences to peek through at the neighbors, neighbors’ yards to play in, and kids to share the fun with, assorted games, books, and endless ways to entertain ourselves.

The planes that flew low and slow over Grampa n Gramma's yard.

They lived in Campbell, California. From their back yard, we often got to see all the big Navy Planes flying into Moffett Field. These planes were the big, four-prop slow-and-low-flying grey/ silver planes. They were a sight to see, and watch! (And the sound was a sound I will always treasure!) The planes flew so low, and so slow, we imagined the people onboard got quite an eyeful, and abundant entertainment with what happened in Gramma and Grampa's back yard! We knew since we could easily read the numbers on each plane, they could easily see what we were doing on the ground. One thing was for sure: We Never got bored at Gramma and Grampa’s house! Grampa was an engineer, and had one of the most wonderful work-shops I had ever encountered. (That is another story all by itself.) Grampa also had a bar in the rec-room, a mysterious, yet welcoming pool-shed, and a Car-port/ Boat-port in the back yard filled with wonderful old treasures, mysteries, and random junk.

Gramma was a wonderful person to learn from in the kitchen, the garden, and even in her sewing room. They owned several rental properties, and often we would help with assorted maintenance, or just some of the landscaping. Now, don’t assume they used us as free-labor. They Always paid us for any “work” we helped them with. Whether it was washing the cars, hosing off the roof, or even the things we looked at as fun… They knew we were helping them with these things, and my sister and I always enjoyed “being put to work” by Gramma and Grampa. We learned early on about the joy of getting paid for doing the job right, and how to have fun while earning some extra cash for the amusement parks Grandma would ultimately take us to later in the visit.

Did I mention we were also allowed to be naked as much as we wanted? At home, Mom had funny rules about naked. (We got to be naked plenty at home, but we did not have as much naked freedom.) But at Gramma’s house, we could be naked as (almost) as much as we desired. Gramma was often naked, but Grampa would only be naked when he was showering, or changing clothes.







(I go into great detail about the freedom of nakedness at Gramma’s house in many previous blog posts.) You can see those here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/joys-of-naked-as-child-then-lost.html

And Here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/surprise-your-family-moved-out-of-state.html

But the fact that we could be free, without any shame, and without anybody making it into something weird was a freedom I treasured! At Gramma’s house, nobody picked on me, or cared what my body looked like. Anybody who came there knew they were welcome in whatever level of comfort suited them best. They also knew that they would see others in whatever level of comfort fit each individual. Every person was welcome. Every age, gender, ethnicity was welcome. If somebody was not comfortable being naked, they did not have to be. Likewise, if there happened to be someone who was not so sure they wanted to see others naked, we would put some clothes on, to help them be comfortable. But most times, those who were not inclined to be naked would allow those who wished to be naked to freely do so. There, of course were those who would never be around anybody who was naked, and those people seldom spent time here. Those who were accepting of others would happily be here, and nobody ever had to worry about it.

Grandma and Grandpa’s back yard was hardly private. It was fairly secluded from the street, but it was fully visible to the neighbors, and also from the windows of the house, too. Some of the neighbors had two-story houses, which easily looked into the yard. Also, the fences were slatted, and not so much intended for complete privacy, but more to just separate the yards.  But it did not matter. This was a neighborhood where nobody got worked-up over what the human body might look like. It was not uncommon for a meter-reader, mail-person, or parcel delivery person to see someone naked in this neighborhood. Nobody locked their gates, and everyone was welcome to come into neighbor’s yards, be friendly, share a sunny spot, spend time in a garden. It was friendly, comfortable, and relaxed. There were times, of course, that the house and yard were transformed into highly-elite country-club type events. If we happened to be there when these occurred, we were still allowed naked freedom, but we just didn’t have full freedom to go wherever we wanted. Any guest at their house knew they would likely see a naked body through a window into the yard, or if they came into the section of house we were in, separate from the event. We knew how to be free, without causing alarm, or disrupting the event.

While naked was not uncommon, there were also two categories of people who were not included in the naked group:

The first is those who did not have a problem with seeing, or being around others who were naked, but for whatever reasons, they just never were naked themselves. These were the ones that did not freak out when they saw a naked person. Nor, did they freak out if another saw them naked. These would often change clothes, or be seen in a shower, leaving a shower and going to a room to get clothes, in a mixed-group setting, but just would not hang-out without clothes. Occasionally, this type of person would change into, or out of swimwear right next to the pool, and never worry if they were seen. They simply just did not want to hang out without clothes. These people were safe, comfortable, trusted, and never a problem.

The second is those who would never be around naked people if they could possibly avoid it. Those people always fled as fast as possible (But would always leer, or stare as they were leaving). When they did see a naked person, they would stare at the naked parts, instead of seeing a human being as a normal everyday occurrence. Those who fit this group would never be seen changing clothes, showering, getting out of a shower, or in any way ever allow themselves to see another doing the same. These people always gave me the creeps. A Creepy person cannot simply glance at another while naked. They always leer, stare, and get real nervous. These people seemed to look at naked as sexual, dirty, and forbidden. These same people also seemed to have something to hide, and often acted like they had hurt others in a naked way.  Even before finding out how they behaved around naked people, I always felt they were not to be trusted, and kept my distance.  I never would spend time naked around this type of person. This group was uncomfortable, not trusted, and gave everyone the creeps. Fortunately, this group of people would flee, instead of making the rest of us uncomfortable.

(At this age, I had not yet learned how bad these people were toward naked people, or what they did when they could get them naked. I Only knew that they were creepy, and should not be trusted. It would be another year, before I really learned about what this type of person actually did to others when they saw them naked, or could force them to be naked, and then harm them.) (fortunately, up until this age, I had never been touched inappropriately, or ever experienced any of the 'bad' things that people will do to a kid when they are naked.... That would come in the next year...)

While Grandpa was not fond of hanging out naked, he definitely fit into the first group. He fit well into the “safe, comfortable, and trusted” group. Anybody could be naked around him, and he never had a problem with it, nor did he ever make anybody uncomfortable. He never hid his naked body, but would choose to always wear at least swim trunks. He never hid while showering, coming or going from the shower, or even while changing clothes. He never did anything to anybody who was naked that would be considered unsafe, weird, or at all creepy. Nobody ever pressured him to join those who were naked. They accepted him for who he was, and he accepted them.

I mentioned early in this writing about my Mom having funny rules about naked. She was definitely in the “safe, trusted, and comfortable” category. I seldom have mentioned my Dad in the naked writings, or even his view on the subject. That is because he really did not care one way or another. So, he was definitely in the safe, trusted, and comfortable category. (This writing is about Grandma and Grandpa’s house, but I wanted to be sure that it was clear which group Mom and Dad fit into.)

Now, after all this, you are probably wondering how, and why the “Naked Smurfs” came about…

Well, during that summer 33 years ago, My Sister and I were staying at Grandma and Grandpa’s house for a week. One of the projects Grandpa had come up with was to finally clean out the boat-port in the back yard. The boat port had long before become a junk-collection. It had been decades since they had a boat, and it now served as a “garage” … but without any walls. On the concrete was a full-sized shuffle-board court. Above the shuffle board court was a ping pong table. Both of these had become so buried in years worth of treasures, leaves, pine needles, and an amazing amount of other things that tend to accumulate in a semi-outdoor place. We set to work moving all the piles of old junk, firewood, and miscellaneous what-evers that piled for years on top of, around, and under the ping pong table.

There had been a few times when we remembered playing shuffle board, and ping pong out here, but those years had long past. We were excited at the possibility of finally being able to utilize this fun space again. Grandma, Grandpa, Jodi, assorted friends, neighbors, and I all set to work tackling this project. Grandma asked one of her renters if he would haul the junk to the dump when we had piled it all up. He was more than eager to come and help. He parked his truck in the opening of the big gate, so we could just load it up as we went. He had other things he needed to do, so he did not stay, but left his truck. (He was the type of person who would not hang out at Gramma n Grampa’s house much. He was nice, and friendly, just not comfortable here. He was not comfortable seeing anybody naked, although he never made a big deal out of it, or acted weird, he just did not care to hang out where naked people did.) Of course, this opened-up the front fence to make it even more visible than usual from the street. The neighbors on each side also knew this was going-on, and were often coming and going to visit anyhow, but now those who were not on the sides also could see what we were doing, so it attracted even more neighbors.  Jodi and I both had many friends here, so when we visited, we often would have them come and stay with us, too. (I do not mention their names, because I am not so sure they would want it published. I mention these friends many times in my writings about our childhood, but am always careful to let them remain nameless. I mention my sister’s name, simply because everyone knows who my sister is, and it is impossible to keep her anonymous.) They enjoyed the adventures, fun, and freedom, too.

Many times at Gramma and Grampa’s house, in the summer, we would just stay in our swimsuits all day. Sometimes we would just go naked. It never really mattered who was there. Our friends definitely fit into the comfortable category. Many would join us, and some would not, but they never had a problem with it. But, this time, since we were digging into some rather rough things, and picking things up, moving things around, and stacking stuff, loading a truck with junk, and getting into who knew what, we were wearing pants shoes and shirts, too. It did not take long before we were all hot, dirty hungry and tired. Grampa suggested we all just jump in the pool, clothes and all, to cool off. This floored all of us, because Grampa was a stickler about keeping his pool clean, and in perfect condition.

This is a fun image I found online which represents

the fun that can be had when hosing each other off. :)
(The link I had for the original location of this photo is now not
working, so I removed it. ...If this photo is yours and you want
it linked, or credited, let me know! :) )

The rule was that if we were dirty, we had to hose ourselves off while standing on the lawn before we could get into the pool. (That in itself was always a funny event, too!... Imagine the hilarity when people clothed, or naked hosed each other off with a cold garden hose!) 

Well, after a minute of him trying to convince us it was alright, he was the first to jump in… Fully Clothed!! The ring of dirt that spread across the surface just made us all stare and see if he was suddenly going to change his mind. He didn’t. He encouraged the rest of us to join him. We all did. Yup, fully clothed! We cooled ourselves off, cleaned our clothes, and had fun while doing it. Gramma was the first to climb out. She stripped off her wet clothes, then spread them on the concrete to dry in the sun. She went inside to make some lunch. The first time any of our friends saw Gramma naked they would look a bit shocked, but after they realized it was no big deal, they never glanced twice. (It was not that they had never seen naked people, it was more of a shock to see an old woman naked, but once they saw, and noticed Gramma never was ashamed of her aged body, there would be no more shock.)This day, nobody looked twice. Grampa got out, took off everything but his underwear, laid all the clothes on the concrete and went inside. (This was just about the same as naked, since tighty-whity underwear does not conceal anything when it is wet.) The rest of us got out and stripped, too. We laid our clothes on the concrete, too. When Grampa came back outside, he had put on his swim trunks, and brought his wet underwear to dry.  All of us kids were lying naked in the sun, and the neighbors were sitting on the patio chairs in the shade, but opted to wrap towels around their naked bodies. There were wet kids, clothes and shoes lying all over the sunny concrete. Grampa went to work with the skimmer net to clean up the pool. Gramma came out with sandwiches for everyone, now wearing a swimsuit-cover, but without a swimsuit.

By the time we finished eating, our clothes were mostly dry (the shoes were still wet), so we all got dressed again, and wore squishy shoes, to tackle the project. We all worked until late in the afternoon, and made a ton of progress. We all jumped into the pool again, and this time when we got out, most of the neighbors headed for home in their wet clothes, and Grampa went inside still wearing everything. (Gramma jokingly teased him about wearing his wet clothes into the house.) The one neighbor girl, who was two years  older than me stayed. She was one I happily shared time with when I was at Gramma n Grampa’s house. Gramma and all of us kids stripped outside.

Gramma had us put our clothes into a laundry basket. She insisted on washing them, even though we would just get them filthy again the next day. My Sister, and her friend decided to go get other clothes on, and stayed inside after they got dressed. The neighbor girl, my friend and I stayed naked. Grampa came outside wearing swim trunks again, and started the barbeque for dinner.  Gramma always put clothes on for dinner. She dressed, went and started laundry, then went to the kitchen to get the food ready for the barbeque.

We had made lots of progress in the boat port. The surface of the ping pong table was now fully cleared off. My friend, the neighbor girl, and I were looking at all the detail in this old table, and wondering what it would take to refurbish it to make it beautiful again. This old ping pong table was a solid, sturdy table! It was not at all like the fold-up ones you see in most places. This one had strong steel legs, and solid wooden construction for the table top. Nothing folded, or hinged. It was built in two sections, for ease of movement. (The sections met at the net.)

The friend I had over could not stay the night this time, and we knew his family would be there soon to pick him up. But before they did, we got out the old ping pong supplies, swept off the table and played some games.  We noticed how the wooden table had warped, peeled, and splintered in the neglected storage. We talked about how we could do some work to make it smooth again. All three of us were completely comfortable, in a safe place, and did not care that we were fully visible to all who passed by the open gate.

While the barbeque was cooking, Grampa came to join us. He played some games on the uneven table with us, and we discussed what it would take to make it smooth and properly finished again. We discussed how much time it would take, and decided we would get a good start on it this week, but knew we likely would not complete it. We agreed it was worth the effort, and would be fun. The neighbor girl liked the idea, too, but was not enthusiastic about the sanding process. We made plans to visit the hardware store the next morning so we could get the supplies we needed. She asked if she could come along, too. Of course, Grampa always said yes!

When my friend’s family showed up, they just came in through the side gate. They were not at all surprised to see us playing naked. (They said they could see us before they even parked the car.)They were quite comfortable with naked life. They, of course knew Grandpa and Grandma, and even knew the neighbors well, and comfortably just walked through the yard, and into the house any time they came over. The family had spent time here before, and welcomed the freedom of us to be clothes-free if we chose. (I always found it interesting that his parents were comfortably naked at home, but if other adults came over, they always got dressed. They allowed their kids to be freely naked here, but they never took off their clothes here.) His little sister knew that when she came here, she could always go swimming naked. (At their home, skinnydipping was not allowed, since it was a common-area pool in a courtyard of condos.)

:)

Even before their parents had gone inside to see Grandma, his little sister was stripping off her clothes and asking Grampa if she could jump into the pool before they had to leave. He, was chuckling at her eagerness, and of course said she could. (We always figured it was good that he said yes, because if he ever told her no, it would be too late, since she was usually stripping and jumping off the diving board as she asked!)  He had an older brother, who came along also. He often would be naked at home, and occasionally, here, too… but never when the neighbor girl was here. She did not mind if he saw her naked, but he was nervous around her, so kept his clothes on. (But he never knew that she would watch through the fence when he thought she was not around, so she had seen him naked many times, but none of us ever told him.) After a few minutes of visiting, it was time for them to go home. My friend and his little sister reluctantly put their clothes on so they could go.

Shortly after they left, we sat down to eat dinner. We ate on the patio, which meant the neighbor girl and I could still stay naked. (If we ate at the dining room table, we had to at least wear something, plus a shirt…. It could still be a swimsuit, but no bare bottoms, or bare torsos could be at Gramma’s dining room table. If we ate in the Rec  Room, at The Breakfast Bar, or at Grampa’s Bar, we could be naked, too, just not in the Dining Room.) Sometimes the fun of eating naked at the patio table was the fact that the chairs left a funny criss-cross pattern on our behinds! The neighbor girl and I were the only one without clothes, but nobody cared. They pretty much expected us to be naked.

While we ate dinner, Grampa told Gramma about our idea to refinish the ping pong table. Gramma loved the idea. Jodi and her friend were not too thrilled about that part of the project, but they agreed they would keep cleaning the boat port while Grampa and I worked on the table.

The next morning, before going to the hardware store, Grampa, the neighbor girl, and I cleaned all the dirt out of the pool, and it was sparkling again! We even scrubbed the ring around the tile at the water-line! (A chore we often used as an excuse to get naked and be in the pool!... since everyone knows it is much easier to scrub the tile without bending awkwardly over the pool-edge.) We headed to the store, and Gramma, some neighbors, Jodi and her friend started working on the cleaning-up.

When we returned from the store, Jodi and her friend had decided that was not what they wanted to do, so had gotten cleaned up, and Gramma was getting ready to drive them somewhere. They told us to have fun, and we told them the same. The neighbors had gone home, too. Gramma made it clear that they would not be home until dinnertime. No worries, this was normal in our lives. They could go have fun with what they were gonna do, and we would have fun with what we were going to do.

At the hardware store, Grampa purchased lots of sandpaper, special masks so we did not breathe the paint-dust, goggles to keep it out of our eyes, some special primer(which was tinted to help match the color of the finished table), and the special “Official Ping Pong Table Paint”. Grampa had plenty of power sanders for us to use! We were excited to get started! The neighbor girl was not interested in doing any of the sanding, but stayed for a while when we started. She always liked to hang out when I was here, and I loved having her here, too! (She had been in my life since birth, and was a comfortable, trusted friend.) She decided that being near us while we were sanding was not going to be fun, but did not want to go home, so she spent her time swimming and sunning.

We started the sanding project wearing all the clothes we had been wearing while cleaning. It did not take long before we realized that with the masks and goggles, too, it was just too hot. In no time we had changed into our swim trunks. (The clothes we changed out of were layered with a blue-green splattering of paint chips, dust, dirt, and unidentifiable debris and wood that we were sanding off the old table.) When we decided to go at it in just our swim trunks, we knew we would be filthy, itchy, and a total mess in no time. The neighbor girl giggled at the sight of us in swim trunks, masks and goggles. She also told us she was convinced we would be totally naked in no time. I did not doubt that, but Grampa insisted he would not. Of course, the neighbors had come back over to see how it was going, and the noise attracted anyone who was passing by out front.


The neighbor girl was still naked, but nobody cared. This was normal. None of the people stuck around long when they saw how fast they were going to get coated with the same debris.  The neighbor girl had to keep retreating further away from us, because the dust and debris kept getting on her, too. She finally decided to go back home.

So, we were sanding wearing our masks, goggles, and swim trunks. We were sweating a lot, too, so all the debris totally stuck to our skin. It did not take long before the itch of the debris in the elastic waistband of our swim trunks made it completely uncomfortable. We did not itch anywhere else, just where the waistband rubbed on the debris, and dust. I asked Grampa if I could strip completely. This gave him a good laugh, and he said “you’re going to have a blue penis!”  I thought about that for a second, then took off my shorts… then we both laughed at what we saw... I already had a blue penis! The shorts had not kept any of the dust from getting in there. The Only place I was not blue was under my mask, and under my goggles! He was laughing so hard, and then called me a Smurf! (Now, before anyone gets all uptight about the Smurfs reference… Yes, The Smurfs existed Long before the television cartoon came out. The Smurfs originated in a comic strip cartoon decades before the TV Smurfs came out in the ‘80’s. And One of the great joys I shared with My Grandpa was reading the daily comics, so we both knew exactly what he was referring to when he called me a Smurf.)

We thought this was entirely too funny! I wanted pictures of me as a Smurf, so he cleaned himself up a bit, and went to get his camera.

(And before anybody gets worked-up over him taking pictures of me while I was naked… Relax! There never was anything but simple nakedness. Back then, nobody got worked-up over such simple things in life. If ya saw a picture of somebody’s grandkid naked, it was considered normal, and nobody would have ever considered it a bad thing. Back then the photo labs would develop and print the pictures without a second-thought. I was a kid who loved to live life naked. My Grandpa happened to be a loving, wonderful Grandpa who never did anything weird, creepy, or wrong to a naked child. All of our friends, their parents, the neighbors, our parents, and anybody else who knew us, saw us, and was in our lives approved of our lifestyles. None of our activities were done in hiding, or in some manner that anybody could be ashamed of.)

(I removed the link for the source of this photo, because it now
will not open, Security hardware saying it has
Malicious hardware if opened.)

While he was inside getting his camera, I went back to the sanding. It was so funny, and priceless, he called some of the neighbors to come and see for themselves. My goggles kept getting completely clouded, too, so I stopped often to wipe them off. One of the times I stopped, I could hear a lot of people talking, laughing, and enjoying something from far enough away that they were not getting coated with the dust. I recognized many of the voices as neighbors. One of those voices was my friend from next door. She was laughing, and teasing me about how she was right about me getting naked soon! When I removed the goggles, I saw that the thing they were enjoying so much was me! There were many of the people I knew well from his neighborhood. There were people his age, and people my age… and people from every age in between. He was so happy to show everyone how much fun I was having, and they all wanted to be part of it, too! Of course, the fact that I was naked did not matter one bit.

https://www.deviantart.com/the-3dartist/art/Nude-Smurf-177698782

They had all been around me while I was naked plenty of times, and I had seen them all naked, too. Usually, nobody ever mentioned specific anatomy when naked. (And if they did, they would be considered unsafe, or weird, and I would not feel comfortable around them.) But this time, the mentioning, and focusing on the blue penis was quite acceptable. The neighbor girl and I were quite familiar with each other’s bodies, since we had grown-up together, and spent much time playing naked. While we had obviously done plenty of touching, and learning, as kids will do, we never made obvious remarks about the other person’s naked parts. We never embarrassed, or shamed the other. But this time, she had been the very first to mention my blue penis. I was totally okay with that. If anybody had the right to do so, it was her, and I actually welcomed it. Without trying, I managed to create a fun way to look at how the body looks completely different when it is completely covered in dust… Blue Dust, at that! Nobody, including myself had ever seen a real-live Smurf before! This made me smile, and feel really good! This was one of the things I always loved about Gramma and Grampa’s house! If anyone laughed here, it was always in a positive way, never in a bad way. Every one of My Grampa’s friends, and neighbors had known me my whole life. I trusted them. They understood how to make people comfortable, and relax. They knew about my insecurities, how I hated people to notice my scrawny body,and how much torment others gave me in unsafe places. These people knew how to make me feel GREAT! Grampa had been taking photos of me while I was working, stirring up a huge cloud of blue-green dust. He asked me if I’d come out of the cloud, for some more photos. I was happy to have my picture taken. We got some funny pictures of me, still in the mask and goggles, but fully blue head to toe. Then I took off the mask and goggles for more funny pictures. Grampa got fun shots of me in so many places around the yard. I made sure to get a bit of blue on each of the neighbors, too! Besides my neighbor girl friend, there were other neighbor girls, too. They were all my age, and teens. I knew them all, but not as well as the one next door. They wanted to have their picture taken with me. This, too was nothing new… except This time I was the only one naked, and Blue! My neighbor girl friend decided that I should not be the only one naked, so she got naked, too. The other girls just giggled at the sight of us taking pictures together… Me, a Naked Smurf, and her naked, but quickly getting blue all over herself! Only one neighbor boy ever came around when anyone was naked. He was the only boy in the neighborhood who was not weird about naked. This one happened to be her brother. (I always enjoyed the company of girls, and they always accepted me for who I was. Most boys never understood me, or some would just flat-out be creepy, and I hated being around most boys. The few I allowed in as friends were the ones who I trusted. The girls were never a problem to be around.) Grampa took more pictures as I pretended to be diving into the pool. (But there was no way I was gonna get all this in His Pool, so I just pretended.) He pointed out the layer of blue dust floating on top of the pool, and we watched as the current gently pulled it in a nice stream toward the skimmer. He pointed out that there was not a place in the yard that had not turned blue. (Even Gramma’s flowers and her garden were coated with blue dust!) We were really glad Gramma had closed all the doors and windows before she left, or the entire inside of the house would be blue, too! One of those big planes flew over, and he joked that the military could easily see my naked blue penis! We all thought that would make for great stories by the fly-boys when they landed!

After all the fun with the neighbors, Grampa told his friends that he was going to put his camera away, and join me in the sanding. Some of the neighbors teased him and asked if he would get naked, too. He laughed and told them “You know better than that. I do not run around naked.”

Grampa had cleaned himself off so he could take the pictures and not get any on his camera. He suggested we eat some lunch before starting sanding again. I stayed outside with the neighbor girl, while he went to get us something to eat. After we all ate, we both started sanding again.

She decided since she was already blue to stick around a while. She eventually got bored of watching us, jumped into the pool to clean off the blue dust, then went home. It did not take long before he was really itchy around the waistband. I told him I was not itchy. He insisted he would not take his shorts off out here. He looked around as he said that to see if anybody was still in the yard. No problem… I just kept sanding. We worked on the table all afternoon. I was The Happiest Smurf in the world! He was the itchiest Smurf in the world.  

Many times, when I stopped to clean my goggles, I noticed he would look at me and smile again. He commented many times about how comfortable, and happy I looked. One time I heard his sander turn off, and I could hear him talking in the open gate. I turned off my sander, and removed my goggles. He was talking with his mail lady. She was the same mail lady that had done this route for as long as I could remember. She knew me well, too, and never cared when she saw me naked. She, too, was quite excited about how fun this was, and how funny we both looked as Smurfs. Even she commented about the blue penis, and I was not at all humiliated about it. Then she asked Grampa why he was still wearing his shorts. He got a bit embarrassed, but told her she would not be so happy if she had come around the gate and saw him out here naked. Even though she was easily half his age, she gave him a look that only a mother, or grandmother can give. That look she gave him told him exactly how ridiculous that statement he made was. He understood the look, too! Then she rebuked him, and told him to stop being such an old grump! She reminded him how accepting this whole neighborhood is, and how nobody here would ever think twice about seeing someone simply enjoying life naked.  He got a look on his face that said he understood that, and that he admired her honesty. He told her how tempted he has been to remove his shorts all afternoon, and made it clear that he was not wanting to remove them to be naked, but only to be comfortable, and itch-free. She smiled, and told him he should be comfortable. Then she told us goodbye, and left.

Haha! Not exactly My Grampa,
But (or Butt!) it is the best I could find
as a safe picture of a naked blue man! :)

We went back to sanding again. The next time I removed my goggles for cleaning, I could see that Grampa was now without his shorts! This was The First (and ONLY) time I ever saw My Grampa purposely doing something naked! I did not want to let him know that I was surprised, but just as he found it so humorous when he saw me completely naked and with a blue penis, I saw the same humor and hilarity when I looked at him! I really tried to not let him know I had noticed, but it was almost impossible. He turned off his sander, took off his mask, and goggles, and with a huge grin, told me, “Don’t even think about trying to get any pictures of Me!” We had a good laugh about how we both looked. He then looked around again, and said, “And don’t even think about inviting your girlfriend over while I am naked!” (he liked to tease me and call her my girlfriend, which he knew totally embarrassed me!) I just grinned, put my goggles back on, and started sanding. He did the same. For a little while I noticed he kept looking out the gate, and also toward the neighbors’ homes to see if anybody was watching him out there naked, and blue. He was closer to the gate, and I was at the far end. From my vantage, I could see out the gate, and across to the neighbors’ without having to look around much. He had to make an effort to look behind him.

After a while, he seemed to forget that he was naked, and stopped looking. (As is usually the case when people finally get naked) But I could see many of them purposely peeking around the front of the house, and through the fences.

They seemed to really enjoy seeing Grampa naked and blue! (It was probably their first time, too!) I saw more neighbors going for a walk out front than I usually saw. And the funniest part was that they had all seen me the same way, and came to have their pictures taken with me, but it was different for them to see Him! Almost everybody in the neighborhood had walked by to see him after he stripped off! I could only imagine what it looked like from behind him, while he was bent over, and sanding the table with his blue butt, wiggling about! It gave me quite a chuckle. They all waved when they saw me look up, and never tried to hide… but not a single one of them dared come any closer! It was too funny!

We sanded for the entire afternoon. The table was completely sanded, completely smooth, and had no imperfections remaining in the surface. We were hot, tired, and exhausted… And BLUE! We were coated in layer upon layer of blue-green dust, and it was literally glued to us from all the sweat. We thought we were completely finished sanding, but knew we had to be sure. We knew we had to clean off the surfaces so we could see the table without any of the dust or debris. We got brooms and rags to clean the entire surface. We swept, and cleaned it all off, and were very satisfied at the work we had done. I found it funny that the neighbors only came by to look when we had the sanders going, and making plenty of noise. When it was quiet, not a single one dared come out to look!

We knew we still had a huge mess to clean up all around our work area, plus the entire yard. We still had on our masks, since we were still stirring up the dust. After looking at how much work it would take to clean the yard, we decided we had done enough for the day.

I saw Grandma’s car pull into the driveway, and knew they had seen Grandpa, and he was busted! He was moving something at the time, and had not seen or heard them pull in. I had gotten so used to everyone seeing me while I was Naked and Blue, I had completely forgotten that Grandma, Jodi, and her friend had not seen me yet!  Before they were even out of the car, they erupted with a roar of laughter, giggles, and guffaws. The laughter was Grampa’s first clue that they were home. He did a half-panic, half-try to hide move, and found himself wedged between the table and a roof support pole. He was too late, and bumbled his own escape! Gramma, Jodi, and her friend were already inside the gate, and just filled with joy, laughter, surprise, and slight disbelief. That was when I realized they were surprised equally by my appearance as they were Grampa’s.  That actually caught Me off-guard, because I was not used to people being surprised when I was naked. Gramma, Jodi and her friend were not at all mean, or even harmful in any way. I could not recall a time that gramma had laughed so heartily, and it was wonderful to see! Jodi and her friend were not quite sure what was appropriate to say to Grampa, or even if looking at him in this comical way was OK. But they had absolutely no problem looking at every detail of my blue body!

After a couple of minutes, Grampa finally regained his composure, and asked, with a slight grin, “Haven’t you ever seen real-live Smurfs before?” They loved that, and then we all relaxed. Everyone was still grinning, and loving every minute of it. They all said how if they had known this would happen, they would have stayed and joined the fun! Grampa was still not quite sure what to do when naked, but he handled it well. One of those big military planes flew over nice and low n slow.. Of course we all looked up and watched it go gracefully on by. Then I siezed the opportunity to tell him that those military boys could see his naked blue penis! We all howled with laughter! He knew how safe this really was, and that nobody was gonna say, or do anything mean. He was his usual fun, comfortable self… Just Naked and Blue!

Of course, they all asked hundreds of questions, and wanted to know all the details of the day. Of course, none of us could stop grinning, giggling, or even looking and laughing again at the blue penises. Seeing naked people was nothing new for any of us, but seeing naked Smurfs… with Blue Penises was just too hilarious for all of us!

Keep in mind, I was 11, Jodi and her friend were 10, so all this was just totally plain funny. So, here was a scrawny kid, and a not-so-scrawny Grampa as real-live Naked Smurfs! Grampa was a gentleman, and never referred to any naked part in any inappropriate way. He was just simply naked… and Blue! Gramma was just like a little girl, seeing a naked boy. This was the one and only time that I recall that actually pointing out someone’s penis while they were naked was actually appropriate, and even welcomed. I can guarantee that if he was not Blue, Grampa would have put his trunks on, and nobody would have mentioned he even had a penis! The same goes for me… if I was not blue, nobody would have even noticed, or mentioned that they noticed I had a penis.  But it was OK. Everyone was happy, comfortable, and finding naked Smurfs in the yard was the absolute best thing for everyone!

Then, the neighbor girl re-appeared on the patio around the side of the house. She had come through the house, as she usually did. She stayed behind the bushes on that patio, where Grampa did not see her, and she gestured for me to come over there. I went where she was, and I was surprised that she was not alone. She had brought several of her friends with her.  I knew all of these girls, too, and they were safe, but never had any of them come over to Gramma’s with her. I always saw them out front, or when I was at her house. They had seen me naked before, and knew she loved to be naked, too, so there were no worries there. She told me she had called them to tell them how much fun it was to see me as a Naked Smurf, and they all wanted to come see, too. They did not want to freak Grampa out, and had watched for the right time to come over. When they saw Gramma come home, they knew he would be distracted, and came into this side of the yard. They all were trying really hard not to giggle out loud because they did not want Grampa to know they were here, but that was almost impossible! So, I hollered at Grampa and asked if it was okay if the neighbor girl was here. He said, “She has likely been watching through the fence anyhow, so she can stay.” At this she giggled again. Grampa was still distracted by his own nakedness, and Gramma, Jodi, and her friend, so he did not pay much attention to what was going on over here.  The girls decided to sit on the benches in that part of the yard, and try to be quiet. I went back to Grampa, Gramma, Jodi, and her friend.

As we talked and laughed, we walked around the yard, looking at all the mess. Gramma was a bit concerned about her garden, and flowers, but I showed her how easily it came off with a little blowing on it. Every step we took, we could see foot prints in the blue dust. The pool was no longer clean, and you could not see the bottom with all the dust that settled into the water. The entire back of the house had a coating of blue dust on it. The windows were covered in blue dust. There was not a surface in the entire back yard that was not blue.  We all decided that we had done enough for today, so we would save the clean-up for tomorrow. Gramma suggested we go out for pizza for dinner. (Yay, that meant Straw Hat Pizza!) We all agreed. Either Grampa really never noticed the girls on the side patio, or he was noble enough to pretend they were not there. (And the girls were doing their darndest to peek through the bushes at the two Naked Smurfs, and not doing a great job at keeping the giggles quiet.)

But before we could go out to eat, we needed to clean up. Gramma asked how we planned to clean ourselves off, cuz she sure was not gonna let us inside looking like that!

Without missing a beat, Grampa and I both looked at each other, grinned hugely, and said “Watch!” Then as we turned to jump into the pool, the giggles and laughter started again. But this time, the laughter was from across the fence, and in the open gate! We were already airborn, leaping into the pool when we realized all the neighbors had come back again after Gramma got home! They figured as long as Gramma, and the girls were here, and the group of girls was here, too, and Grampa was not freaking out, they could come over and join us.

When we hit the water, all the layers of blue on our bodies erupted like an explosion! From under the water, it looked like we were in the middle of a Blue-Smoke-Bomb! I came to the top before Grampa. The pool had turned almost solid blue-green, and the water was not at all transparent! All the neighbors were in the yard. Gramma was laughing as hard as they were. Grampa took his time coming to the surface. He knew as he went into the water that he was naked for all to see. When he finally surfaced, they all cheered and applauded! He still did not know that they had all been watching him all afternoon! He thought this was the first they had seen him. He was not sure how to proceed. I used the water to scrub as much of the blue off my body as possible. Grampa just went to the edge, and looked up bewildered at all the attention. He looked more surprised by the group of neighbors, than he did about the group of girls, so my guess is he knew they were all there, and since they behaved, and did not actually get close to him, he could feel comfortable.

I told him they had all been watching him all afternoon without him noticing. Gramma let out a howling laugh. He got a grin on his face, and called them some adult-words, to which all the adults laughed. The young ones, and us kids did not laugh. Then he realized that he had just cussed in front of the young girls  and his Grandkids, too! He quickly apologized for swearing in front of the kids. Everyone told him it was ok under the circumstances. He tried to explain that he only took his swim trunks off because of the itchy waistband. They all assured him it was not a problem. Not only was it not a problem, they were all glad that he had done it! These were his friends, and neighbors. These were the same people he was so proud to have come share the joy of seeing Me as a Naked Smurf! They all assured him how much they admired him, and told him how wonderful it was to watch Him and Me so happy, so carefree, so filled with absolute shared enthusiasm over the Smurfing! As they all told him how wonderful it was, he realized they were just expressing the same exact feelings he had when they were watching me, before he was naked. He looked to each and every one of the people, and his smile just kept getting bigger, and more comfortable. He realized that he had seen each of these naked previously, and they had seen him naked, just not hanging out naked…. And especially not Blue! You could see him relaxing again, and starting to not care if he was naked.  I got out and was streaked with blue! There was no way I would get clean in that messy pool! Grampa finally cleaned off as much of his blue as was possible, then got out of the pool, still streaked with blue, too.

Now that we were mostly cleaned up, and not completely blue, nobody actually looked, or commented about any parts of our bodies. The young girls did shy glances , giggles, and grins like they always did anyhow, and that was totally acceptable, even normal. We all had a good time enjoying the fun, and just common neighborly friendliness. Some of the neighbors offered to come help in the morning. Gramma went and got a couple of towels for us to wipe our feet on inside the door, so we could go inside to shower, without tracking any blue dust in with us. After we each had showered, we went to pizza.

When we came home from pizza, we got out the hoses and hosed off all of the garden, and most of the plants around the yard. We saved the rest for the next morning.

The next morning, several of the neighbors came to join us in the project. My friend who had been here the first day was able to come over again for the day, and was disappointed that he was not part of the Naked Smurf event. All the dust in the pool had settled to the bottom, so Grampa and one of his neighbor friends easily vacuumed it up. (It took several hours, and they had to keep back-flushing the filter, but it cleaned up easily.)He wore his swim trunks, of course! The neighbor man often went naked, but since he was working with Grampa, and Grampa kept his shorts on, so did he. We could not scrub the pool-tiles around the edge, because to vacuum the pool, the cannot be movement in the water, or it will stir-up all the stuff that had settled, so the tiles were saved for another day.

This is not a photo of any of us ...
Although it easily could have been!
(The Blog this photo originally appeared in,
Is No Longer there, so I have removed
the link.)

While they were taking care of the pool, the rest of us got hoses and started hosing down the house, the windows, the patios, the furniture, and all the plants we had missed the night before.  I was naked~Duh! :) My friend also was naked. The mom from next door was naked. The brother and sister from next door also came to help. He was a year older than her, so three years older than me. He would only go naked if his sister was not around, but loved to be naked. You already know how much she loved to be naked.  Since he wanted to enjoy the naked freedom, and fun, he opted to be naked, just worked on the opposite side of the yard as she did. It was funny. She loved to torment him, too, so she always found ways to cross his path, and even get real close to him. This flustered him endlessly. He would run and grab his swim trunks every time she came near. Then when they were apart again, he would strip. I found it odd that he never cared if his mom, Jodi, or her friend were naked near him, only if his sister was. Gramma wore her gardening clothes.  Jodi and her friend would go from naked to swimsuits and back to naked again. (Often they liked to play naked, but not stay naked for long periods of time…. And the naked/ dressed/ naked/ dressed happened more frequently when my friend was over.) After we had hosed down everything, and the yard was clean again, we washed all the windows. We stopped for a swim and lunch again. Some of us went skinny dipping, but Grampa kept his swim trunks on. We all laughed. He scowled at us. It was clear we were supposed to forget he had been a Naked Smurf!  

After lunch, and resting in the sun, we were ready to tackle the rest of the boat port project. All the really bad stuff had been done two days ago, so none of us put on our full pants and long sleeves this time. The guy who loaned us his truck came to help also. He was not comfortable with working around us while we were naked, so we all wore our swim suits. That afternoon, we finished cleaning out the boat port. We got all the junk into the truck, and the guy drove it away to the dump. Grampa was eager to close the gate as soon as the truck was gone.

Haha!
This so easily could have been me as a kid! :) 

The neighbor girl, her mom, my friend and I each got naked again immediately. Her brother decided his sister was too close to him, so he went home. Jodi and her friend alternated from naked to clothed and back again. Then we moved the ping pong table out of the boat port, so we could completely clean the concrete floor. We swept and hosed it down until it was shiny and almost new again! The shuffle board court was glistening. That made us want to play some shuffle board! It had been years since we had done this!

We all played shuffle board for a while. We also swam, and continued the finishing clean-up on the boat port. After a while, we all agreed that we were done with the boat port. The adults went inside for some relaxing at Grampa’s bar. The neighbor girl, me, my friend, Jodi and her friend stayed outside and played, swam, and relaxed. Her friend had to go home that night, and when her family showed up, we all made sure we had our swimsuits on. They knew she enjoyed playing naked, and did not have a problem with it, but they just were not comfortable around naked people.

My friend got to spend the night this time. We set up “camp” in the back yard this time. Normally, the neighbor girl had to go home at bed time, but this night, her parents allowed her to stay and camp-out with us. Grampa let us build a fire in the fire pit, and we enjoyed a wonderful evening camping naked under the stars. We cooked hotdogs over the fire, we roasted marshmallows, we carved sticks, and had a fun, silly night under the stars. Normally, we turned on the pool light for night swimming, but this night we decided to turn off all the outdoor lights, and have a truly star-lit, and moon-lit campout. We went skinny dipping under the moon light many times, and then would hang out by the campfire again. Gramma and Grampa let us pretend we were camping without any adults around, and stayed inside. All of us kids were naked the entire time.  We did not actually set-up a tent, but just creatively hung some rope, and sheets to make ourselves a tent. We all put our air mattresses on the ground to sleep on, and once we were thoroughly exhausted, we all finally crawled into our ‘tent’ and slept. My gramma came out to wake us in the morning, and to tell us breakfast was almost ready. My Gramma also liked to tease me about “my girlfriend”. The neighbor girl and I both were endlessly embarrassed by this, and in the morning, Gramma saw another perfect opportunity for teasing. Inside our ‘tent’, Jodi was curled up under her own blanket. My friend was curled up under his own blanket, and I was curled up with the neighbor girl under the same blanket. Jodi had put some clothes on to sleep in. The rest of us were still completely naked. Gramma thought this was a perfect opportunity to tease us! To us, we were kids who enjoyed life naked. We also were very comfortable with each other’s bodies, and happy in each other’s company. We were well-aware about sexual stuff, because it was openly discussed, taught, and not made to be a shameful thing, but we were not at all interested in making such pure freedom and fun into anything more, and just the mention of anything along those lines mortified us endlessly. This gave Gramma endless amusement.

We all got up, took down the tent, and put out sleeping stuff away. Jodi was still the only one wearing clothes. We ate breakfast, then decided it was time to put the primer on the ping pong table. Grampa  had us put newspaper all around to catch the primer drips, got us set-up with brushes, and got us started, then left us alone.  He laughed at the fact that we were all naked, except Jodi. He warned us that if the primer got on us it would not come off easily. We took this as a challenge! Jodi went inside and put on grubby clothes from head to toe, but the rest of us stayed naked.  

The primer was a special formula meant for this kind of surface. It was an oil-base, plus it was tinted so it would help match the final paint of the table. Yup, you guessed it… The primer was tinted a blue-green. We managed to get the entire ping pong table primed, and we were quite impressed at how smooth we had gotten it. Grampa instilled in us the importance of making sure there were no runs, or puddles in the surface. Of course, in the process, we managed to pursue the ‘challenge’ Grampa had unwittingly put upon us. Now, you would probably guess that we only got some on us occasionally… Nope! We managed to focus on the quality of the table, Plus the quality of what got on our bodies!  Jodi was the only one wearing head-to toe clothes,and wanted no paint to get on her body.  She got some, but not much on her face and hands. The rest of us took great joy in seeing how creative we could get in the applying of paint to each others’ naked bodies. Yup! You guessed it. After what you know about how comfortable we were, and after the Smurf incident, we were  unashamedly gonna become artists! We determined (without discussing, or even agreeing to it) that there was nothing off limits. We already knew our boundaries (well, there really weren’t any, cuz we were friends, and comfortable with the naked body, and all its parts.) It would be safe to say that what we did with the primer on each other could be considered… ummm, shall we say, “Creative, artisitic, and slightly twisted”?

(If we were older, it likely would have been erotic, even sexual, but since we were still "just kids" not seeking actual sexual activity, it was considered innocent, harmless fun that kids do…. Ahh, the innocence of childhood! When touching is just plain touching, learning, understanding, harmless, and even innocent. Yes, our parents taught us about appropriate touching and inappropriate touching. They also encouraged healthy learning, acceptance, and differences. We all knew fully well that if another was not wanting the touching, it was not acceptable. We also all knew that this kind of play was encouraged, healthy, and helps people accept, understand and learn about the human body in a safe, comfortable environment. We never ‘groped one another’. The touching that was done was simply the touch you would give if you applied makeup to your friend’s face…. Except we were comfortable enough to apply it to other parts of our bodies. We also knew that this sort of thing is not shameful, nor to be hidden, nor to be done by someone who is older, or ever unwanted. We knew that if it was done, it was to be done without shame, and if we felt it needed to be hidden, that meant we were probably doing something that would be considered inappropriate.  We understood all about all that stuff. None of us was in any way doing anything that would be considered inappropriate for that time and the ages we were. … Keep in mind, we were kids who were also allowed to sleep naked together and it was simply that, because in a naked lifestyle, people can appreciate other humans without perverting it, or making it sexual. )

We did not just go at each other with wild, broad strokes of the brush. Nope, we certainly approached it from an artistic look. We did not set-out to just wildly cover each other in paint. Grampa had made it clear that it would not wash off, so we knew what we painted would stay for many days, barring the application of toxic chemicals to our bodies. But we also knew none of our parents, would inflict such chemicals on our skin, so we became artists with bodies and paint!  We were quite proud of what we painted, and how it was decorated.

We made sure that we were careful not to smudge the paint we each had on our bodies, so it would dry in the same design we had applied it. The ping pong table was under the boat port, so it was not in direct sunlight. We carefully sunned our painted parts so the primer could dry. Once we were done painting, and our painted parts were dry, I went to get Grampa for his inspection. He about fell over when he saw how my body was painted. He let out a few gasps, and then managed to holler for Gramma. When she came around the corner, she burst out laughing. Then, asked if “my girlfriend” was also painted. After I told her “all of us were, except Jodi”, she immediately called the girl’s parents to come over. She had me go back to the yard and wait. Grampa reluctantly came out, expecting we had botched-up the painting of the ping pong table since we focused on painting ourselves. But as he came to the table, his eyes showed that he was pleased with our work. After examining the table, he then turned to examine our artwork. He grinned hugely, then walked back inside. He came back out when the girl’s parents came over. He had his camera again. The girl’s parents were thrilled with what we had done! Grampa took photos of us, and our artwork on our bodies. (Keep in mind, he did this with the blessing of her parents, and they were there while he did it, too. It was not in any way perverted, or could it have been later deemed wrong.) We were thrilled to have done what we did, and just like the Smurfing, this made it acceptable to actually admire the specific parts of our bodies. Jodi made it clear that she was very glad nobody painted her, but she was more than happy to have helped apply the paint to us. She took off all her grubby clothes, then looked at her non-painted body next to our painted bodies, and looked sad. She did not say so, but she looked like she wished hers was painted, too. We cleaned-up and put away the painting supplies, and stayed naked the rest of the day.  

When it was time for my friend to go home, his family came to get him. This time, the gate was closed, so they came through the house. Gramma had called and told his parents what we painted, so they would not be shocked. They came to the yard, and again his little sister was stripping and asked Grampa if she could swim. She was skinny dipping in a matter of seconds! His older brother again looked embarrassed when the neighbor girl was here naked. Then when he saw the painting, and learned that we each had painted the others’ bodies, he was really embarrassed. She tried to casually show him the artwork, but he was too embarrassed to look at her now. Their parents laughed, and admired our artwork.

The little sister got out of the pool, and asked if she could be painted, too.  We told her no. She was just the right height that she looked straight at each of our painted parts. She bent slightly to get an "under view", too, and this gave us all a good laugh. She was quite open, and hardly shy about what she wanted. And it was clear that at this moment all she was interested in was learning about the detail of our painted bodies. She looked only briefly at mine and her brother's parts, but was very interested in the neighbor girl's parts. She could tell that the neighbor girl had similar parts as she did, but also knew it was different, too. She kept looking at herself, then at the neighbor girl, really close. Then she would go and look closely at Jodi's parts. She was not quite as interested in Jodi's since she was not painted, but she noticed exactly what she needed to notice. She went and looked closely at the neighbor girl again. The neighbor girl was aware of what she was looking at, and just let her ponder it. Finally the little sister asked her if she was a girl, or a lady. She clearly knew the difference (but was not aware of the age at when changes occur) and seemed to be confused about which she was. The neighbor girl chuckled, got down to her level and asked her why she was asking that. Without hesitating, the little girl stated that Jodi was a girl. It was a statement, because she had totally decided by looking at her she was still a girl. Then she told the neighbor girl that she looked like a girl, and was friends with her brother and me, and played like a girl, and was the size of a girl, but had hair like a lady. The neighbor girl knew us and the parents well enough to know how to approach this. (and they just stood quietly by, and smiled) She smiled sweetly at the little sister, and told her she was a girl, quickly growing up, and becoming a lady. At this, the little girl pondered it a bit, then smiled and said she hoped to grow hair herself, and become a lady some day. She asked her mom how old she had to be before she was allowed to be painted like that. The mom did not miss a beat, and told her "When you are becoming a lady." The little girl was satisfied with that. Then went straight back to the pool again. We dedided that wasa  good idea, so the rest of us kids went in too. The only one wearing a swimsuit was the oldest brother, and he would not let the neighbor girl swim near him. She terrified him while she was naked. When it was time for them to go, They all thanked Gramma n Grampa for allowing them to come and play.

The neighbor girl had to go home for dinner at her own home this time, because Gramma, Grampa, Jodi and I were all taking GG out for dinner at a nice restaurant. This meant that we had to go and shower, and attempt to scrub off any paint that was on our faces, arms and hands. We had to wear pants to dinner tonight, but short sleeves were ok. Jodi had the easiest time scrubbing, because she did not get much paint on her at all. After some rough scrubbing, most of the paint came off my arms, but it left a tint in the skin. In later days, I would discover that where the paint was, it left funky tanlines! So, even after the last of it had finally washed away, I still had the patterns! The neighbor girl and I both were thrilled about this! It was like reverse tattooing! 

As with any visit to Gramma’s house, of course, there was the mandatory day at an amusement park, fun dining-out experiences, shopping, visiting our G.G. (Great Grandma), gardening, going to other friend’s houses, going for bike rides, going to the movies, watching slideshows from Grampa’s photography, and many other adventures that take up the time available during the week. The week flew by, and we did not have time to fully complete the ping pong table.

Even though we managed to get the primer painted, we never got the actual finish-painting done. After this week, the old ping pong table sat neglected under the boat port.  It had received some much-needed love and attention, but it would now sit, only half-finished for the rest of its life at Grampa’s house. This week turned out to be our last time spending quality time at Gramma and Grampa’s house as kids. The next summer, we ended up moving to Oregon, and then the teenage years were upon us. Our lives got busier as we became teenagers, and we suddenly seemed to have notions about nakedness that was no longer allowing freedom. Suddenly we found ourselves in a completely different life than we had known as children. Some of the events that happened just before we moved to Oregon, plus the total change of life as we knew it changed a lot of things for us.  

Grampa always had his photography made into slides, and seldom into prints. He took great joy in showing his slideshows every time we visited. Because of this, it took more work to view the pictures he had taken, and often it was not even possible during short visits. Also, if the pictures included anybody naked, there were times that he could not show those slides, depending on who was at his house at the time. (I mentioned earlier about those people who do not accept naked, and how they even become creepy about it.) Even though there was never anything wrong with Any of Grampa’s photos, or anything that was wrong about what he photographed, these few creepy people made it so none of us could enjoy the photos he had taken. This was the case with the photos he took of when I was a Naked Smurf, and also of how us kids had painted each other! I visited many times, and was only able to view these photos by holding the slide up to a window to see it.

The girl next door told me she had seen the entire slide show. Her entire family came over one night shortly after Grampa had gotten them developed, and he happily showed the entire week in slides. I showed many friends, and some of my family how much fun it was, but We could never view them on the full-screen, only in the tiny slide, held-up to a window, or light. We enjoyed, laughed, and cherished the memory those slides captured. Often, Grampa would tell others of that fun day, but when he told the story, he seemed to ‘forget’ to tell about the part where he became a Naked Smurf, too.

Many years later, we searched and searched for those slides, but they had disappeared. Nobody would say where they went, or why they were gone. I suspected one of the relatives who was not safe around naked people discovered them, and either did something creepy with them, or burned them. Either way, the photos were gone, and all that remained was our own memories.

For many years, Gramma, Grampa, the neighbors, and the mail lady talked and talked about that day. This was a day that could never be duplicated. It was one of the most special days as a child that I can remember. I was never embarrassed, or felt the need to hide what happened that day. (Although in later years, when I went into hiding my body, I likely would not have eagerly brought up the topic.) Jodi and her friend only mentioned it a couple of times. (Jodi only enjoyed her naked freedom for about a year after this, then for some reason naked became something that was hidden, and shameful, and even forbidden to mention for her.) The neighbor girl was correct when she said she was a girl, quickly growing up to become a lady. Within the next year, she fully became a young lady, and I was still a kid. She no longer would enjoy the freedoms she knew as a girl. She had found that dating young men was what she was interested in. Her and I could never again be the same level of friends we had been. She was seldom around if I visited, and when she was, she had other interests, and did not come and spend time with me anymore. My Gramma, and even the neighbor girl's parents assured me that she still spoke fondly of our friendship, and of the time we shared growing up, and especially about the events of that last summer. She was never ashamed of what we had, and what we did, but had grown into different interests. My friend and his family moved also, and we seldom saw them again.

I still cherish that day (and that week, too!) I still laugh, smile, and find great joy in knowing not only did I become a Naked Smurf, but So did My Grandpa! I know it was the one and only time he willingly got naked, and stayed naked. While we had many wonderful days we shared, this one is easily THE MOST WONDERFUL Day With Grampa EVER! I Cherish the joy every single person found in both seeing me as a Naked Smurf, and also the joy everyone got when Grampa became a Naked Smurf, too! I cherish the safe, comfortable non-threatening environment where nobody could harm me, and I was free. I absolutely cherish the environment, and feeling that gave Grampa the freedom to feel safe, and be naked for many hours. Before, and after that day, there has never been one time I felt that safe, happy, and comfortable with ANY Naked person. I have had a lot of naked, joyful experiences in my life, But This Was Absolutely The Best One!

I know this is one of the longest posts I have written, and I thank you for taking the time to read it, and learn more about what makes me so passionate about the "simple" things in our lives. So much of what drives me, and makes me who I am can be found happening in this week I wrote about above.
It has taken almost a week of writing to put this post together, and Ironically, as I was almost done wrapping it up, I got a package in the mail yesterday. This package contained many new rubber duckies! (yes, I am aware that nowhere in most of my blogs do I even mention The Ducks, But They are immensely important and represent a side of me that is passionate, caring, loving, and basically my roots.) This package had so many wonderful things inside it, but the timing, and One Duck in particular absolutely were perfect! I will most certainly write more about the ducks, and about My wonderful friend, Colleen in New York who sent them. You can see her Duck-work at: http://duckshow.com/
I tend to write about things that are for some reason tugging at me to explore, and put into words. The Ducks are hugely important, but I just have not felt the tug to write in depth about them... yet. This blog is more about some of the really in-depth feelings, beliefs, and ponderings that bounce through my soul. I use a page on facebook for the fun of sharing my Ducks and their adventures with the world. You can see that stuff here:
https://www.facebook.com/giantrubberduck


But, now back to the conclusion of this post. I got a Duck in the package yesterday that Absolutely fits my life, and fits so well with the feelings this writing is about. Here is a picture of that Duck.

This is a specialty duck made by Bud Ducks. It is called "Positive Poem".
On it are all the words that fit my soul, and the timing of its arrival could not have been better!
In this photo, you can see some of what it says, but here is a list of All the wonderful things it shares:
Co-operate. Love. Peace. Huggle. Giggle. Sing. Live. Laugh. Community. 

I hope you find peace, love, laughter, joy and all that is needed for making your life as wonderful as it can be! Find your safe place, and be happy! Maybe even become a Naked Smurf! ~=:-)