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 9th 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.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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!
In Vermont, one campground
had pit-toilets, yet had a large unisex shower-building, with no roof. This
shower-building was one large
open square concrete room with shower heads all around the walls. There were no
partitions, and not even a full set of walls. The concrete floor was moss-covered and had assorted leaves, twigs, and pine needles all over it. It was almost like the natural forest floor. The entrance was a large, wide
opening simply facing the forest, with no partitions to block it. Just one
wide-open square gang-shower for all to share at the same time. There were no
benches, or even an area that was supposed to remain dry. With no roof, and not
even full-walls, I expected cold water. I was surprised to find it had plenty
of hot water! It was unusual in how it was built.
Now, I ask you, What in Your Mind is "Pure"? Sure we all thought Vermont was "Pure". But some think "Naked" and "Vermont-Pure" could not belong in the same sentence. I guess ya gotta ask yourself why you would view simply pure nature as somehow not-so-pure. Have you ever allowed yourself to learn to live? I have ... But it took dying to learn to live. I Hope you find life before you die.
