...and so after a futile attempt to masturbate for the first time in the woods with my two buddies, we all went home.
The revelation of orgasm didn't occur until the next day, when I was at home all by myself...
I was pretty excited about what Clay had described the day before while we were in the woods - the rudiments of masturbation. I really don't know why, but I felt like stripping all the way down and lying down nude in the middle of the living room floor. I could have used a bed - not sure why I didn't - but whatever in hind-sight. After about 15 minutes of stroking I had some copius precum, though wasn't sure if this was to be the final product of my efforts. At about 30 minutes I started to cross the point of no return, and then ejaculated for the first time in the middle of the living room floor. The feelings were so new and so incredibly intense - it scared the living hell out of me, and I promised myself I would never do it again.
Terrified, I looked at the mostly clear semen on my abdomen and was certain I had ruptured something in my penis. After I calmed down a little and determined I was not going to require a trip to the ER, I did what geeks do and started to read about the penis in the encyclopedia. From what I read, I could duduce that I had had an orgasm. This was all I needed to assure me everything was OK, and gave me license to have-at-it whenever I felt the urge.
None of my neighborhood buddies really ever talked about jerking-off. We all knew we were doing it at the same furious rate, but no one really wanted to acknowledge it. Eric spent the night at my house one night in the weeks that followed that day in the woods, and we wound up comparing our cocks and talking all about our new favorite hobby. We got a bit worked-up by all the sex-talk and both needed to jerk, but instead we actually took turns going into my bedroom to rub one out. Being considered a "fag" is probably what prevented us from going further with our pants down. Sadly, after that night I never saw Eric naked again. Well, at least not until we both were 34 years old...but I'll get to that.
I didn't have any significant sexual contact with another person until six years after that sleepover with Eric. I "dated" a couple of girls before I went to college, but this never amounted to much, and I never really understood why other guys my age were so interested in girls. One of my best buddies was the first to lose his virginity at age 15, and that's when the clock started ticking in my mind for me to lose mine, too. I was so hopelessly awkward then around people I didn't know, and I knew I was coming into the dating game with a handicap. At one point when we were in 11th grade Eric asked me why I didn't show any interest in girls. Immediately panicking, and protesting to him that I was interested in girls, he said "well, you better do something about it, because people are starting to talk". And with that, I was aware that I was under scrutiny, and had to double-down in my efforts to appear "normal".
Compounding my confusion in high school was my all-time first romantic crush - which was on another boy. His name was David and he was one year ahead of me in school. He was the most beautiful thing I thought I had ever seen, with kind and gentle ice-blue eyes and a nice, lean body. David represented not only physical beauty to me, but also a vision of the kind of guy I wanted to become. While I struggled with undiagnosed ADHD and mediocre grades, he was the Secretary of the The National Honor Society. While I had no clue what I wanted to do at college, or much less for a possible career, he was dead-set on getting into medical school and becoming a surgeon. While I was always on the heavy side, he was athletic and very toned. And to top it all off, he was a really good person - a great guy - really kind and considerate.
David and I both played viola in the orchestra, so we often sat in chairs right beside each other during sixth period. Whenever he walked into the room I would blush and feel my heart rate pick up. I absolutely savored any time I spent hanging out with him after class. I looked forward to just being near him every day, but had to work to keep others from noticing how much I liked to look at him. Though I was mostly naive to the sexual nature of my attraction to him, I would often think
about what he looked like with no clothes on, what his penis looked
like, and if he jacked-off as much as I did. It never occurred to me I
could think about touching him down there between his legs. Though I was masturbating a lot, I don't think he ever intruded into my fantasies. For whatever reason, I didn't
cross a sexual line with him in my mind while wanking. All I knew was that I wanted to be his very best friend, and to be like him. I wanted to be best buddies with him and do everything he was doing in his life.
My junior year, I partially got my wish and started to become friends with David outside of school. It was short-lived, though, as I think he thought I was a little bit too into him. What friendship we had fizzled out, and I was bummed because he left for college a few months later. Though I saw him maybe once or twice after that Spring, I kept up with him through common acquaintances. True to what he said he was going to do with his life, David did go to medical school and did become a surgeon. I so wanted to emulate him in every way that the seed was planted in my mind that I, too, should become a doctor. Though I was more than a few years behind him, I later graduated from the same medical school that he did. I didn't understand the nature of my crush on him during those high school years and look at it today as a lost opportunity, but the importance of him as a role-model in my life cannot be overstated. I hope some day I will find a way to tell him how much he influenced my path in life. If you're out there, David, closeted and reading this blog - thank you for everything.
The summer before I left for college my friends and I were always looking for the next party. It was during one of these gatherings at some rock quarry that I got wasted and brave enough to make a successful move on a girl. We were in the woods making-out and I got my hands in her pants - a first for me. Early into my freshman year of college, I got laid for the first time by an upperclassman. I was stoked to have met my goal of losing my virginity before I turned 18 years old. She was a bit of a skank, but I was wasted and fucked her silly nonetheless. What I wish I didn't do, however, was go down on her. In retrospect, she had the strongest odor down there of any girl I have ever been with, and it really tainted my early feelings about oral sex with a woman. Maybe my first hint that I had a conditional relationship with pussy was
that it took me 30 minutes before I could come inside her. She said she was on the pill and that I didn't need to use a condom. So, like a fucking idiot, I didn't wear a condom. This was during the mid 1980's at the height of the HIV/AIDS crisis. That June following freshman year I had a summer cold that I couldn't shake, and became convinced that I had contracted HIV from this girl. It was the first time that depression and unchecked anxiety reared their ugly heads.
Sophomore year was a wild one, as I was completely stoned for most of it and yet somehow managed to turn in my best GPA ever. That year also held many new sexual experiences, including group sex with another couple. In the fog of pot smoke, alcohol, and sex that characterized that year, I also had my first experience with a guy hitting on me while post-coital in my dorm room with my passed-out girlfriend in the same bed...
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