Ever since I was an adolescent, no even before that, I was prone to erections. I mean, I came to understand early on, that most boys didn’t get erections as easily as I, and they didn’t last as long. I was also made to understand early on, that one doesn’t reveal that one is having an erection. I guess my parents probably chided me when I was very young, but in any case, by the time I was 12 or 13, I was quite embarrassed by my condition, and tried all sorts of things to hide my erections, or fix the problem in some way.
When I discovered masturbation, I tried never masturbating, figuring that would reduce the erection problem, but it made it worse. So I made it a point to masturbate at least three times a day, every day. Not only did that not work either, but it became tedious. I remember trying hard to come on occasions when I just couldn’t, and feeling frustrated that my hard dick wouldn’t cooperate.
Life for me was rather fucked up between oh, maybe around 13 and 16. It didn’t help that my dick grew in size at that age. At first, a hardon would mean only a little point sticking up in my pants that was fairly easy to hide. But in time, the swelling of an erection was a real problem. I remember many times being called on by a teacher to come to the front of the class, and having to decline if possible, or discretely rearrange my underwear to do my best to hide my erection. Oh, I didn’t have an erection 24 hours a day or anything like that, but the slightest thought of a girl in a bikini or a guy jerking off, and wham, there I’d be, hard again.
Fortunately, only two or times did people really notice. I was teased about it a bit. But in retrospect, the teasing was probably less than kids with zits or overweight kids got. But, I’m sure my face was red, and I was all flustered when me having an erection was actually noticed.
Then, around age 16 or so, something happened that rocked my world. I grew sick of trying to hide the damn thing. There was some sort of quote. I don’t remember exactly. It was Emmerson or someone, and it was about making lemonade out of lemons. The idea being to make the best out of a circumstance, and it might just turn out to your benefit. At about the same time, there was a TV show, M*A*S*H, and there was this little guy, Radar O’Reilly, who wore glasses. People made fun of him, yet he wasn’t really affected. It turns out, he was rather a hero, and did well in life.
So, in my mind, this erection problem might be something I could turn around. I hadn’t had sex yet, and sexual thoughts came to me all the time. What if I could leverage this erection thing somehow? Although scary, I knew that’s what I had to do.
My first attempt was rather easy. Once again, a teacher called me to the front of the class. I remember in this case, it was to solve an algebra problem. I knew the answer, but normally would have pretended I didn’t, because at that very moment, I was having yet another erection. But it was time to be brave, damn it! So, I went on up, erection and all. I didn’t arrange my underwear to hide it. I just went on up, with a big, obvious projection sticking up in my pants and did the math. I even turned around a certain way, hoping to make it clear to everyone that here was Jeff, with an erection. To my dismay, no one noticed, or at least no one said anything. Damn!
Later the same day, I had another opportunity. I was on the soccer team, and we had a nice session out on the field. At 4:30 it was time to hit the showers. In the past, I had always quickly thrown on my clothes, and went home, thereby completely avoiding the whole public shower thing. I had almost always gotten away with it. A couple of times I did get stuck having to take showers with the guys, but thankfully, I was able to stay soft on those occasions. Not today. Just thinking about my plan made me bone up. And it made my heart race, too!
So, I guess what I was vaguely thinking was that if I’m going to have a damn erection, I’ll just let it be. I didn’t know at the time that would lead to anything. I was just going to go public with my problem, and eliminate all the shame and secrecy. Like Phil. This guy had a goofy-looking knee. He had been in a car accident when he was a little kid, and his knee was weirdly shaped, and he walked with a bit of a limp, even though he could play soccer good enough to be on the team. But Phil didn’t hide it. He took showers with everyone else, and we all knew about his knee, and no one teased him about it. And, it kind of made him cool. He gained points among us for being real, or something.
Anyway, all I knew was that it was time to reveal my condition. I just had to quit torturing myself with hiding it. So, mustering all the courage I had, and borrowing a bit more from Radar O’Reilly, I pulled off my shorts and underwear, and walked proudly into the shower with my penis waving in front of me at full mast. I was tense. I was stealing myself for the worst. I’d probably be called a ‘homo’ or something, or worse. Who knows?
And what do you suppose happened? Zachary, the winningest guy on the team, the one with a girl on each arm half the time, said “Hey Jeff, nice dick!” And he meant it! I couldn’t believe it. Really. I was trying to analyze his comment for irony or some sort of teasing. But no, he was serious. Some of the other guys stopped what they were doing – soaping themselves up, or what-not, and stared right at me. I received a chorus of “yup,” and “looking good” and such things. Totally the opposite of what I would have suspected.
The rest of that shower was uneventful. I finished up, erection and all, put my clothes on, as did the other guys, and went home. That evening, the phone rang. It was Zachary, from the team. He hardly even noticed me before. Why the fuck was he calling me? Was he going to admonish me for having a boner, or something? Geez!
To my astonishment, he just started making small talk. I was waiting for him to get to some sort of point, but he never did. We talked for perhaps ten minutes, then it was “Bye, see you tomorrow.” What the fuck was that?
He started talking to me a bit more, as did some of the other guys on the team. This was in a more friendly way than they did in the past. Weird! Meantime, more school showers, and true to form, I was erect most of the time. Only a couple of times I didn’t get hard. One time, Eric said something about “Jeff, it just isn’t the same in here without your erection.” I was somehow complimented.
Time went one. Perhaps a month later, something unexpected happened. Zachary had a big old erection in the shower also. And, his was something to look at. Like maybe 8 inches long, and hairier than mine by far. And he was just walking around plain as day, as if it was an ordinary thing for him. Within a week, most of the boys were getting erect in the shower. Some were even starting to touch themselves a bit, kind of wanking, but just a stroke or two.
The phone rang. It was Zachary, the coolest guy in school again. Again, more small talk. Then he said something I couldn’t quite wrap my head around at first. He came right out and asked whether I ever jerk off with other guys. I was like, “No fucking way.” But then, knowing I was blowing something huge, I revised it and said, “Well not yet, but it’s not off the table.”
I imagine you know where that conversation went. I would have loved to jerk off with him. Just being in his crowd was a cool thing, but to wank with the major star of the school, would have been really awesome. So, we arranged it.
His parents work until 5pm, so on a day when there was no soccer, we went over to his house, and after an interminable time of beating around the bush, we had our pants around our ankles, and we were jerking each other off. He made me promise not to tell anyone. I was just about bursting to tell some people that I had at least been with him, but I knew the importance of keeping something like that a secret.
But evidently Zack didn’t. Because it quickly became known around the school that he and I were what was being called ‘jack buddies.’ And evidently because it was Zachary, it was an OK thing. A good thing, even. I’m guessing if Zack had been a dweeby guy, it wouldn’t have been socially acceptable at all. Other guys started discretely asking me to join them in jerk off sessions, and I have to say I was delighted. I took up pretty much every one on the opportunities. I was wanking with the best of them several afternoons a week. I enjoyed it every time, although I didn’t always ejaculate because sometimes it was kind of routine, I guess. Nevertheless, it was always fun. I enjoyed the variety. Some were cut, some were uncircucmised. Some were small, some were huge. Sometimes guys had small, tight ballsacks, sometimes loose hangers. Some were entirely shaved in their crotch areas, and for some reason, I particularly liked that. I’ve heard that in previous generations, guys pretty much never shaved. Worse, jacking off together was seldom done, and always top-secret. I’m glad to be alive in this day and age!
I was a bit disappointed to be going down this homosexual path, because I was rather attracted to the girls too. I needn’t have worried. They came to me. They really did! Starting with Zack’s younger sister, Shantra. Tall like him, already big-breasted, with long black hair, and just a touch of an Asian look, she was a real knock out. And she and I started doing stuff. Oh, we didn’t do anything truly sexual. We were both smart enough to avoid all that. But boy, what a great experience it was touching her clit for the first time, and seeing her shiver. It didn’t take me long to figure out how to give Shantra orgasm after orgasm. And she learned how to give me exquisite blow jobs. Oh, I was in heaven. More than that, it became known that she was my girlfriend, and that put me in the top social circles! I was at the cool table in the cafeteria! Who would have figured?
Now being the guy my parents raised, I looked around me in the school, and brought the less popular people into our circle. I decided the girl with acne, the fat guy, everyone deserved to be among the cool people. I used the position I had acquired as the coolest guy in the whole school, the junior prom king (along with Shantra as queen), and all that sort of thing, and I spoke this philosophy often: The idea that we are all, really, truly equal, just maybe different, each in his or her own way. By the time I graduated, that was a philosophy that was practiced throughout the school, and I was proud, very proud, that I had been instrumental in that.
Oh, right, I’ve gotten a bit off-track. Yes, I kept having the erection problem, but it was not a problem at all. Quite the opposite. I got to where sometimes I’d openly wank in the shower after soccer, and some of the other guys followed my lead, and did, too. Only once ever, was that a problem. A kind of funny, overly-religious guy named Mike came up to me one day in homeroom, and said some weird crap about God not wanting the flaunting of sexuality. I just shrugged it off. I wasn’t hurting anyone, had caused no damage to my reputation that I could see, and was just making lemonade out of lemons. I even tried to stay friendly to Mike after that, but he seemed to want to distance himself from me. Too bad.
Toward the end of my senior year, without having given it much conscious thought, it was becoming obvious what I wanted to do: I was fated to become a leader, and so now I’m in college majoring in psychology and political science. I’m not on any school sports teams, but I’m popular. I make a science out of popularity. And, everyone knows they can come by my dorm room and jerk off with me and my roommate any time. Girls too, and they often do. At first, my roommate was weirded out by my sexual activity, but soon jumped into the fray. I started him off gently, by walking around nude when it was just he and I studying. Of course I sometimes had a hardon, and acted like it was normal, which it was. At first he didn’t comment, but he, too, started going naked. It was a couple of weeks before I saw him with a boner, but was delighted the first time I did see him that way. It turns out he is great to wank with. He taught me about ‘happy ending massages.’ I love those treatments. I bought a second-hand massage table, and set it up in our room. There’s barely room to walk around it, but it is a sacrifice my roommate and I happily make. We keep the door open so everyone knows nothing ‘bad’ is going on. Most nights, we have a few people, guys and girls, coming in to give or get happy ending massages, but we kick them all out at 9pm sharp, whether they’ve had their orgasms or not, so we can study.