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Bianca’s Smut Shack

By Spurtz

Bianca’s Smut Shack was an online community created in 1994. You can read the details in Wikipedia. Look up bianca.com on Wikipedia. It was created by Alex Thau and Chris Miller. The story I heard, but never confirmed, was that it was created as a social experiment meant to be the subject of Miller’s college thesis. The idea was to give people a site where free speech was totally unregulated and see how people would react.

There was no fee to become a registered member. About the only benefit to being a registered member was you owned your own handle and nobody else could use it on the site. Non-members were free to use any of the Shack’s features but did not have a permanent handle. I believe at some point later that a fee was charged. I don’t remember every paying anything but that might have been because I acted as a moderator for the Q&A Forum in the Shack.

In the beginning this worked pretty well. Let me describe, as best as I can remember, what the shack consisted of. It was actually a quite complex site. One of the mainstays was a series of chat rooms, said to be the first functional public chat rooms on the web. I was never a huge user of the chat rooms so I don’t remember exactly how many there were. Each one had a different theme. Some were quite tame while others were not.

In trying to research the details of the Shack, since my memory of the details is not that good, I ran across a site where a significant portion of the Shack is archived. However, only top level links are active. For example you can open various forums and click on the top level links that do open but if you try to open any lower level links, they don’t go anywhere. Here is the home page of the Shack. There is a crude drawing of a house floor plan. You can click on any of the rooms to see what’s there. The Parlor is where I spent most of my time.

There was also a series of forums where users could ask and answer questions. There were three forums located in a section of the Shack called the Parlor. One forum, that was my favorite, was a Sexual Question and Answer Forum. The page held 50 questions. As a new question was added at the top, the bottom question dropped off the list. A person could post a question and it could take a couple of weeks to work its way to the bottom. In the meantime several people could answer each question. Additionally, you could post replies or further comments under the answers. All the questions and answers that dropped off the list were archived and available if desired.

The other two forums in the Parlor were the Sexual Fetish Forum and the Sexual Fantasy Forum. One of the women in my clique moderated the Fantasy Form.

I found an archived page of the Q&A Forum. You can read the questions but the responses to the questions are not available.

https://web.archive.org/web/20050823010347/http://parlor.bianca.com/shack/parlor/questions/

The thing that is a bit mysterious about these archived pages is they are dated 2004, long after the Shack was essentially shut down in 2001. I used to check back in 2002 and other than some chat, nothing was going on. It appears that by 2004 it was somewhat operational again. And I do see a couple of names on the Q&A archived forum that I remember from my days on the Shack. Danae and Suzie Creamcheese are two of them.

Another feature of the Shack was any registered member could set up their own site within the Shack. I had a forum where I posted my movie reviews. There were a large number of these private sites. Some open to anybody and others only to friends who had to use a password to enter. The sites ranged from hard core sex to innocent stuff like my movie reviews.

One of the things that I found most appealing to the Shack was how friendships were formed and regular members would gather together into cliques. Some groups were friendly to others while there was also some animosity between groups. Overall it was an amazing online community that was seriously addicting.

There was one woman who went by the name of Psycho, who in my opinion really was a bit nuts. She had an online boyfriend named Thunder and the two of them tried to terrorize anybody who they didn’t like. One of the things that happened was the two of them had their own private site on the Shack where they shared photos of each other and also sexy private posts. One of the women in my group somehow figured out what their password was and passed it around to everybody in my group. We could go into their private site and look at their naked photos and read their private messages. And then laugh about them amongst ourselves. Sounds mean but they were both jerks.

Over time things started to get out of hand in some of the forums and Chris Miller decided to create moderators for each forum. This kind of went against the original concept for the Shack and Psycho and her group ranted and raved against it. I was appointed moderator the Sexual Question Forum. I operated using the handle Boner. Basically what I, and other moderators, did was to delete personal attacks and underage stuff.

At one point a woman asked a question about what it was like to participate in a threesome. Even though I had never been in one, I did respond to her question, also wondering what it might be like. Her handle was L.A. Gal which further intrigued me as I was also in L.A. We became online friends and swapped email and later phone numbers and eventually met in person and then six months later got married. And we both got to actually experience a threesome, which was very successful.


Lady I met throug Bianca's Smut Shack

After a couple of years, the guys behind the site held a party in San Francisco open to any of the members of the Shack. This was before I met L.A. Gal, but I attended and got to meet many of the online friends that I had made via the Shack. Some of these friendships were extremely close. One very outspoken woman lived in S.F. and invited me and several other Shack members for a drink at her apartment before we went to the party. Much later L.A. Gal and I attended her wedding which was a riot. Although we left before the action really got started, we heard that, among other things, the bride sucked off the best man in front of the entire assemblage including the groom. Unfortunately she died a few years later from some incurable disease she had been living with.

But at the party, I did meet in person one of the women who I had carried on many posted conversations with and although she was not a member of my immediate clique, I considered her a friend and was very taken with her obvious intelligence. Only to be blown away when I met her face to face as she was one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. A bit too young for me. Well, let me put that differently. I was a bit too old for her. My loss. I left the party about midnight. The venue where the party was held was really dark and consisted of a whole series of rooms broken up to where it could be easy to get lost. I did hear later that quite a bit of sex took place in the wee hours of the morning. I really didn’t expect anything like that to happen or I would have stuck around longer.

It was also great fun to meet a lot of people who I had interfaced with on the Shack site. You form an idea of what a person looks like based on a couple of years of reading their posts only to find out that they looked nothing like that.

Prior to meeting L.A. Gal I did meet in person two of the women I had originally met in the Shack. They were both in my immediate clique. Both of them lived way too far away from me for any kind of regular hookup. I did spend four days with one of them in the general area of Yellowstone National Park. Her specialty was giving deep throat blowjobs and when she had my entire cock down her throat, her tongue came out and licked my balls. We are still email buddies although she’s now happily married with several kids.

The second one flew into L.A. on her way to visit friends but spent four days with me first. Keep in mind that this was the first time I ever met her face to face. I picked her up at the airport and within 15 minutes of arriving at my house, we were both naked and fucking our brains out. It was four days of near non-stop sex including a four-way with another couple. Years later my then girl friend and I visited her and her fiancée and had a nice dinner together. No sex. We are still email buddies. My girlfriend was aware that she and I had been intimate but her fiancée had no idea. The photos included with this story are of her and me.

Back to the Shack. I went through a period where I would go into one of the chat rooms using a female handle. I would hook up with a guy and through more and more explicit chat get him to jack off for me. I know these poor guys were totally convinced they had latched onto a real sexpot.

Then things took a turn for the worse. I never knew if it was one guy causing all the grief or if it was several. Whoever it was started bombing the forums. Somehow they had figured out a way to post 50 questions in the Q&A Forum at once. It was actually the same question posted 50 times. Which of course wiped out every question and answer on the forum. Basically shutting it down. As soon as a few legit questions would start to appear, they would get wiped out.

They did this to all the forums. Then they went after the chat rooms effectively shutting them down with multiple posts. I contacted Chris Miller, one of the originators of the site, to see what could be done. The only way to combat it would be to only allow registered members to make a post. For some reason he didn’t want to do that. Part of the problem was the amount of bandwidth needed to support the site, which had grown to a huge size, was beyond Miller’s and his partner’s ability to finance it. The site was purchased by Nerve.com, an online magazine devoted to sexual subjects, in 1999. I believe Miller was somehow still involved. But by 2001, Bianca’s Smut Shack was history. I was a faithful follower the entire seven years of its existence. Almost too much. I was badly addicted to the site.

In its heyday it was to my mind the most interesting site on the internet, and not just because of the sex, although that was a powerful attraction. It’s too bad that someone hasn’t attempted to recreate it. I know that there are some sites that are somewhat similar but I’ve never found anything that comes close to what the Shack was in its prime. I’m not big on pay sites, but I would pay if the Shack could reappear in its original format.

If you google bianca.com you just get a page that says “bianca loves you.” For many years after its demise, the page also included the crudely drawn map of the site listing all the chat rooms and forums. Even after I gave up on it once the Q&A went down, I think a couple of the chat rooms limped along. And even the Q&A somehow stayed active although by then I had lost interest. The idiots who destroyed the site also lost interest and allowed the chats to continue.

There is also a bianca.org site that claims to be the real world extension of bianca.com. They have staged parties in conjunction with The Burning Man event. Their first involvement with Burning Man was in 1996 while the Shack was still active. I remember Chris Miller telling me about the event and what a trip it was to attend. According to the bianca.org site, the last event held by the group was in 2006, so that bianca effort has also appeared to have run its course.

Nude Beach Correspondence

Nude beach correspondence

Jeremy and I thought you’d enjoy this email between two friends regarding nude beaches. – Jenelle

Hi [Not disclosed],

<< I have to admit that I am very excited about the idea of going there. I think my exhibitionist tendencies are crying out to be exercised. >>

Every now and then, I really want to go to a nude beach, even if I know nothing will happen. The beach here in San Luis Obispo, County, California, near the town of Avilla Beach, has two sides, each inaccessible from the other unless one goes all the way back to the top, and down a separate trail. One side is typical. The first few hundred yards are occupied by textile college people. One walks past them to the nude section, where there’s a volleyball net, and typically 20 people hanging around without clothes, even on a cloudy day, even at high tide. On a good day, it could be 50 or 60 nude people. It is very conservative. Nudity only. In fact, there’s a 30-something dude, a nut-case I’m guessing, who is said to live on the beach, who bothers people if they get too sexual in any way. He even came up to me one time and told me not to stare at the women (which I hadn’t been doing). I have enjoyed walking on that side and doing nothing other than collecting seaglass, maybe reading a book, then going home – all naked of course. I think it is an exhibitionist thing.

The other side is interesting. The last 30 feet is nearly vertical, so someone drove a stake into the ground years ago and tied rope to it. One has to lower oneself down with that rope. You can lean out, with your feet against the rock wall, so it’s not physically difficult. However, due to my [not disclosed] injury from so long ago, or maybe just due to acrophobia, it scares me too much, so I never went down that rope. The thing is, that’s known as an ‘anything goes’ beach. It’s supposedly mostly gay, but families and children can show up there also. On the other hand, I’m told that there can be a number of unsavory characters on that beach. I don’t know what that means. Could it mean a bunch of clothed non-participating male observers, as such nude beaches in California tend to have? Could it mean creepy guys who want to talk others into buttfucking? I have no idea. I would really like to go there and just jerk off while observing the people, and being observed, if it weren’t for that damned rope.

<< I am really tempted to head over there this weekend but I don't want to waste a trip to find out there's hardly anybody there. Even if nothing happens, just the idea of being there with my dick on display is exciting. Not that it's anything special to look at and may not mean shit to anybody else, but I know it will make me feel good. >>

I completely understand that!

<< It was 84 today so the weather would be great for beach-going. It will still be in the mid-70's over the weekend but rain is forecast both days. >>

I hope you’ve already left and are there at the beach now! And, I’m guessing you’ll have plenty of nude company.

<< When my last wife and I went to some of the nude beaches on Mykonos in Greece, I attempted to get a hard on but was unsuccessful. I got it about half hard. I think I was intimidated in some way. >>

I have the same problem. Sometimes it is hard for me to get hard (pun intended) in a new group for at least the first half-hour. I think it’s a self-training phenomenon. We learned to not spring boners in high-school locker rooms, or in any situation where we might be jeered or worse. Now, we are so well trained, that we can’t get hard even though we consciously know it is OK to do so. My first time at the Masturbate-a-thon, surrounded by over a hundred wanking people of both sexes, it took me over an hour to get hard.

<< Unfortunately I am a grower not a shower so unless my cock is partially hard, it's not that big. One thing that I found distracting was the beach had young men coming around to all of the beachgoers to see if they wanted a drink or food. These guys were fully dressed. As long as they stayed away, I was comfortable with my nudity but as soon as one of them stopped by, I was embarrassed. >>

Same thing on that, too. I went to an abandoned rock quarry just outside Ashland, Oregon which was a well-known nudist place, with three friends. It was a cool day, so it was a bit chilly to be clothes-free. I think all of us wanted it to be warmer, and all were quite aware it was a nude scene, and came along with me willingly. We arrived, and there were about 20 people there, all clothed. I, and one of my male friends became naked. Another friend, female, took off all her clothes for like 90 seconds, then dressed again. Since everyone else was clothed, I felt very weird about being naked, and soon my clothes were back on also.

<< Strange, huh? My wife was super comfortable with her nudity but then she had by far the best body on the beach so I can see why she was ok with it. >>

I’m glad for her. Some of the prettiest women have unaccountable body dysmorphia.

<< Of course, unlike a man with an erection, women have no way to demonstrate sexual excitement. >>

Gosh, I wish they did. It is a strange form of inequality:)

I will be OK with just a partial hard-on if that’s the best I can do. When I was in Mykonos I made no attempt to stroke my cock. I was just trying to will it hard. This time I won’t make that mistake.

———————
The earlier email:

I don’t know about that beach, but many have bushes and coves where one can do what one wants with one’s fellow humans:)

Subject: Re: Nude beach

But another website I saw said that this beach straddles the county line between two counties. The northernmost part of the beach, where the nudity goes on, is in one county and it’s legal there. Like a lot of information on areas like this, the true facts are sketchy. But it doesn’t sound like there is much enforcement going on in any event. I plan to wear a long T-shirt but no pants. So it will be easy to stay covered or to be exposed depending upon the circumstances.

One website said that if lewd behavior is being practiced and somebody calls the cops, they will come out. But other than that, they stay away. So I guess if you want to engage in any sexual contact, you just want to make sure nobody sees you doing it.

—————-
Yet earlier email:

Interesting. I looked it up. From Wikipedia: “[not disclosed] County has an ordinance that prohibits nudity in public places. [Not disclosed] Beach is within the jurisdiction of [not disclosed] County thus the nudity ordinance is enforceable by county and state law officers as well as federal park rangers.[4] The laws are rarely or erratically enforced, however, affording the beach a de facto clothing-optional status.”

It also looks like it will cost you $15/day for parking.

Cheers, – [not disclosed]

—–Original Message—–

Subject: Nude beach

I was reading a story about a guy’s experience on a nude beach and he mentions that it’s near [not disclosed]. So I looked it up and sure enough there is one. It’s called [not disclosed] and it’s maybe 25 minutes from my house. When spring gets here I will have to check it out. It’s actually warm enough now to go there but I’m thinking it will be more populated in the spring. If I went now, I might be the only person there.

According to the story, he and a guy he met at the beach jacked off together. I should be so lucky.

To find out all about an anything-goes nude beach in San Francisco, check out MarshallsBeach.com.

Create Your Own Story

Hi Folks! Jeremy and I would love to hear your stories. Please write a story in the comment area below, or you can send direct to me using jenelle@sex270.com.

You do not need to identify yourself but you can if you wish. Your story can be a true memoir, how-to information, fiction, or whatever you want. It would be great if you could let us know whether it’s true or fiction, however. It can be from any perspective.

The length can be anything from a sentence to a complete ebook.

If you’d like to include video or pictures, that would be great. Email them to Jeremy.

Please don’t send any copyrighted material unless you are the owner.

We can’t pay anything for your submissions, and do not guarantee to publish every one, but we’ll do our best to publish anything that’s of reasonable quality.

How Many People Are…

The world population has just recently surpassed 8 billion. My sister and I figure the average couple have sex once per week. The number of married people in America is 141 million, out of a total population of 329 million. If we can assume the same number for world population that’s 3.433 billion married people. So, they have sex once a week. According to sexologists, psychologists specializing in sex, ‘satisfactory’ intercourse lasts from 7 to 13 minutes, so we’ll go with 10 minutes as average. There are 168 hours in a week, so that’s 1,008 10-minute intervals. If you divide the world married population by 1,008, you get how many people, on average, are having sex right now. That’s 7,936,507 married people having sex right now.

What about unmarried people? We don’t know how to calculate that, but our guess is there is one unmarried couple for every four married couples having sex. So in reality, there are more than 10 million people having sex this very moment.

Masturbation is a different matter. People from a younger age masturbate. The number of people over the age of 14 in the world, which we believe is the average age that kids start to masturbate, is probably close to 6 billion. This is a bit hard to calculate exactly, because many people die young, skewing the statistics. We know the average lifespan worldwide is 72.6 years, so if the age of death was linear, that would make the number of ‘adults’ 6.45 billion.

So, around 6 billion people masturbate. According to sexologists, the average masturbation session lasts 33 minutes, including from the time that the genitals are exposed to when they are covered again. Rounding that down a little, we get 30 minutes per session. So, roughly 17.8 million people are masturbating right now.

We believe males masturbate slightly more frequently than females, and most males ejaculate at the end of most masturbatory sessions. So, that will be approximately 9 million ejaculations per half hour, or 432 million per day.

The average ejaculation lasts 6 seconds. Hmmm, let’s see, that means that at this very moment, 30,000 men are actually ejaculating.

The average ejaculation is 3.0 milliliters. In a minute 300,000 men have ejaculated. That’s 900 liters per minute, or 237 gallons of cum per minute. Per day, that’s 14,220 gallons per hour. So every hour, men ejaculate enough to fill an average house 3 feet or one meter deep. A month of cum would fill 15 Olympic-size swimming pools.

My Problem

My Problem, an interesting masturbation situation

My problem is on a higher level, and I say this with an unconcealed degree of pride.

I have learned to have continuous, long-lasting orgasms. I can go as long as 5 minutes in orgasm.

In case you’re wondering how it’s done, let me tell you, because you can learn it too, and it’s not hard. It just takes some practice, and not even that much. I have seen a couple of guys get it on the first try.

You may know about edging, where you bring yourself close to ejaculating over and over again, but before you get too close, you stop the stimulation, and let the feeling subside.

OK, do that. Except, every time you get close to the edge, stop the stimulation only for a moment, Maybe one or two seconds. Then resume. Optionally, you can reduce the stimulation without stopping altogether. The goal is not to let the pre-orgasmic feeling fully subside. Just let it fall enough that you don’t cum then and there.

Stay calm, and keep doing it, Pretty soon, a true orgasmic feeling, what I call ‘lower orgasm,’ will happen for a moment. You feel that wonderful visceral tickle, for lack of a better word. You feel the tightness in your genital region, and probably a super excited, super hard cock state. You may feel tingles, or sort of spectacular chills as distal as your head and feet. You are fully in bliss. Now, typically, it falls off after a moment, or you ejaculate. That’s where the practice comes in. You can find the balance and stay in the lower orgasmic feeling for longer and longer times. At first, it’s up and down. You’ll keep getting into the orgasmic state for a moment, then it will recede, then you can bring it back, and so on. But in time, you can just stay in it.

Your body helps out. When it learns what you’re trying to do, it actually supports you in this activity, making it increasingly easy to stay in the state. Maybe it’s like playing the piano. It’s pretty damn hard to play a tune the first few times through, but with practice, you don’t even remember to press certain keys, you just play the song almost on autopilot.

Once you get the knack of it, you can even hit what I refer to as ‘high orgasm.’ In that state, your penis pulses. You get the ejaculatory contractions, but nothing comes out. That’s ideal. In actual practice, sometimes one drop of cum will escape. That’s rather exciting, because you can have a session of mini-ejaculations over the course of minutes or even hours. As good as that is, to get into the high orgasmic state with contractions and all, but stay dry… well, it’s an absolutely delicious accomplishment.

Imagine: You can have orgasms better and beyond what almost any other guy has had. But you don’t have to imagine. This is real!

So my problem, on a higher level, is that I’m still not perfect. Whether by myself, or with my wife or male friends doing me, it’s difficult for me to stay in lower orgasm for more than a few minutes at a time. And my high orgasm state generally falls back to lower orgasm after a few seconds, and has to be brought back, over and over again. On some occasions, I’ve had five minutes of lower and higher orgasm several times in an hour or more, But usually, I blow it, and fully ejaculate too soon.

By the way, an interesting side benefit is you learn that you don’t have to ejaculate to be satisfied. Many times, I’ve received a dry handjob from my wife, then continued to rub myself for an hour next to her while she sleeps. I don’t even bring tissues to bed any more, because I don’t need them. Finally, I fall asleep, happy as a clam. On a few occasions, I have fallen asleep while she is manipulating my penis. My wife seems to particularly like that.

As I keep practicing, I’m very curious to see what will happen next. Will I be able to stay in higher orgasm for a half-hour non-stop? What will that be like? Is there something new, as yet undiscovered? Maybe, I’ll break through to a new threshold? Is there a state beyond orgasm?

Non-Sexual Mutual Masturbation

Non-Sexual Mutual Masturbation

I’ve been practicing non-sexual masturbation for years. I’ll get together with a friend, typically a guy, but occasionally a girl, and we’ll ‘do’ each other. It’s kind of nicer if it’s a girl, because I’m more heterosexual than gay, but since I’m not particularly attracted to these people, it doesn’t really matter. You see, it’s more about friendship, and good feelings, having a nice time, than something truly sexual. So, it doesn’t really matter if it’s a male or female person, or what their age is, how much they weigh, or anything else. As long as they are not repulsive. Oh, and one more thing: They have to be decent, good-hearted people. I don’t want to hang out with someone of loose morals, addictions, or bad health habits.

The typical arrangement is that he or she will get on a bed or massage table, and I’ll work on that person, bringing him or her to an orgasm, or ideally, a whole bunch of orgasms.

Then we trade positions, and they do the same for me. We don’t usually cum right away. We’ll trade back and forth for a while, so each person gets several opportunities to enjoy the wonderful feelings.

You might call it all about handjobs, but that term is loosely defined. It might involve light or firm testicle massage, inner labia pulling, glans rubbing, asshole fingering, and other such manual activities. For me, toys aren’t usually part of the practice, but there’s nothing wrong with toys. Sometimes clothes pins, testicle presses, butt plugs, or even catheters can be involved.

As you’ve read in other articles here on Sex270, my friends and I have worked on multiple or continuous orgasms. It takes a lot of practice for most guys. Some of the women naturally have continuous or multiple orgasms.

So, in summary, it’s not about sexual attraction. It’s about having a nice activity to enjoy with friends and associates, maybe even family members. It’s like playing basketball, watching a movie together, or going on a picnic, but better.

Is this something you’d enjoy with your friends, family or associates?

Masturbate-A-Thon, Another Perspective

A Detailed Report on the Masturbate-A-Thon

I attended the annual Masturbate-A-Thon in San Francisco. I went three years running. Every year was better than the last. I considered it the world’s greatest sex party. This was my first year. About 120 people showed up, 70% male, 30% female. The idea was to wank for charity. Like a walk-a-thon, friends, family and coworkers pledged. But pledges weren’t amounts of money for miles covered. It was for minutes masturbated, or in a few cases, for number of orgasms.

I had to overcome some serious shyness to ask friends and coworkers, “Hey, I’m going to the Masturbate-A-Thon, do you want to pledge some money?” Surprisingly, eight of them did pledge. They were all quite supportive. I expected some would be shocked, maybe even giving me religious anti-masturbation lectures or something. But no, none of that. I invited all them to attend with me, but none did.

I invited my wife, and she said “OK.” But then day before the event was to take place, she backed out, and was mad at me because I still wanted to attend. I was sad she wouldn’t be there with me, but wouldn’t have missed it for the world!

I showed up an hour early and volunteered to help out. I helped a guy move hand trucks full of snacks and soda, I ran a floor sweeper and things like that. A couple of the volunteers were naked. Most were clothed. I took my clothes off, felt silly, then put them back on. One guy, a fellow I’ve mentioned in other articles here on Sex270, was not only naked, but sporting a boner, as he climbed up a ladder to run a video cable to the stage area.

Oh, yes, people who signed a waiver and got a purple wrist band would be videoed if they so chose. The video was a live internet feed, and a downloadable video would follow. At one point, to my total surprise, I found myself on that stage getting a handjob from none other than Nina Hartley, one of the world’s greatest porn stars, while clothed technicians with big handheld video cameras were filming me, sometimes quite close. That ended all too soon. (No, I didn’t cum in her hands.)

Nina Hartley attended the Masturbate-A-Thon
Nina Hartley

All in all, it was a spectacular party. It wasn’t just that over a hundred strangers got naked together and jerked off, most managing to edge, to hold it in, for hours. It was much more too. It was great conversation and companionship.

I want to tell you the most erotic part of the whole thing, what I remember most, and what makes me most horny when I look back on it, even to this day. And, it isn’t anything you probably would have guessed. The thing that I really remember is that once, during our allotted 5-minute break every hour, I had to go pee. I had to walk through a narrow hallway that was crowded with an assortment of clothed people. There were San Francisco dignitaries, news people, and others. Some were coming from or going to the viewing gallery, where some people had paid $40 per head not to participate, but only to watch. Go figure!

So, squeezing stark naked through the crowded hallway, with my boner sticking out at a strong right angle, I was like ‘excuse me, excuse me.’ At one point, I turned sort of sideways, and slipped past an elegant youngish woman dressed in a business suit and high heels. As I passed, my penis brushed against her hip. I quietly said, “Sorry,” and she just smiled.

So that’s the thing. The whole giant party was spectacular, with all tons of jerking off, all sorts of female and male people to watch, to talk with, and who were watching me as we all wanked together. But that momentary little brush against the woman’s hip is the thing that really gets me, even to this day.

By the way, the longest participant set a Guinness world record that day, lasting eight hours and 43 minutes. I was the third longest at 8:20. I don’t know how I lasted that long, but I did, and it was glorious all the way through. I actually quit, letting myself cum with a huge ejaculation, at 8:20 because I was afraid of actually being the ‘winner.’ I didn’t think I would want that publicity.

You’d think I’d be sore, maybe tired the next day, but no, I jerked off a couple of times the next day, just remembering what had happened.

How Ugly Lawrence Gets The Girls

How Ugly Lawrence Gets The Girls

When I was 19, I was still a virgin, and it was really bothering me. It seemed like a mountain I had to climb, but somehow I just couldn’t manage it. I wouldn’t be a ‘man’ until I climbed that fucking mountain. Thing is, every girl I tried to get next to turned me down. Yes, college is full of girls, but none seemed interested in me. So, I jerked off a lot, becoming ever more frustrated, and I have to admit, very disappointed in myself. I took it quite personally that girls didn’t find me attractive. I didn’t understand, because I’m tall enough, but not too tall, not skinny or fat, in general, not bad-looking. I didn’t know, maybe it was my expression, or something wrong with my face that I just didn’t understand.

At the same time, there was this guy I had grown up with. We weren’t terribly close, but I had known him from high school. He went to the same community college and we’d say ‘Hi’ as we passed in the halls.

He was only about 5’6″ tall, wore glasses, skinny, with mousey hair – in short, not much to look at. Even his name wasn’t great. He wasn’t Larry. He wanted to be called Lawrence. Yet, he always had a girl on his arm. He was a real ladies’ man. They just loved him.

What was the deal? How did he do it? I was dying to know. I asked a couple of guys about what Lawrence had, and didn’t get any satisfactory answers, but they had noticed the same effect.

Seeing Lawrence one day in the cafeteria, I stopped him and asked. And he told me. “I listen.”

That was it. I thought he was fucking with me, but no, he went on to explain exactly how he listened.

1) He tried to find a way to be really interested in whatever she was saying.

2) He’d ask relevant questions.

3) He’d repeat back what she said, often using her own words, to be sure he understood.

4) He’d try to match her in a way. He’d sit the same way, hold his head the same way. He claimed that made people feel more like they’re kindred spirits.

5) And he said, “I’m truthful in my responses.”

I know I was going a bit far, but I asked him whether his sex life was as great as it seems.

“Better than you can imagine.”

That just made me feel worse about my own situation.

I admitted, “My only sexual outlet is my hand.”

“You know, and it’s kind of a strange thing, I still jerk off quite a lot, and sometimes it’s more satisfying than sex.”

I was surprised to hear that, but not nearly as surprised as what he said next:

“Hey, you and I ought to get together to jerk off sometime.”

I couldn’t quite believe he had just said that. It was the last thing on my mind, and the last that I would have expected. Furthermore, I wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest.

Still, a couple of days later found us in my bedroom – my parents were out on a mini-vacation, me nervously taking off my clothes, and him, rapidly stepping out of his clothes.

For a skinny little guy, his already erect penis was fairly impressive, unlike mine, which is just normal, I guess.

Lawrence instructed me to lay down on the bed. He sat next to me, and started tickling my scrotum with his fingertips. Obviously, no one had ever done that to me, and it felt fantastic. In a while, he had worked up to jerking me off in earnest. Whatever initial reluctance I had about this being ‘gay’ and him not being a good-looking guy wore off and I was in heaven.

Just about when I was going to cum, he stopped. I don’t know how he managed to get the timing so good. I was really close to cumming. A few seconds after he stopped, I felt the orgasm still building up. My penis pulsed a couple of times, but nothing came out. That was amazing!

Now, he wanted me to do the same to him. It was the first time in my life I had touched a cock. It wasn’t horrible. In fact, as I started working on his hard penis, I had a notion to suck it. It just seemed natural to put it in my mouth. So I did! Lawrence moaned a couple of times, evidently blissed out. Then he yelled “Stop.” It was too late. He came in my mouth. It was bitter and much more salty than I would have imagined, but I rather liked it, and to my own surprise I swallowed it down.

He changed places with me again, and resumed his handjob activity, bringing me to a quick and strong orgasm.

That was the start of a great friendship that has lasted until this day. We still get together every couple of months. It also did something else. I can’t explain it exactly, but it gave me a sort of confidence that was missing. It also didn’t hurt that he introduced me to three different women. With the first two, we didn’t really hit it off, even though I practiced his listening techniques. With the third, Marie, a dark-skinned Asian beauty, we were instant friends, and within a month, I happily lost my virginity.

You’d think after that I would have been a serial dater like Lawrence, with one girl after another. But no, I was way too hooked on Marie. She and I married last year and I’m pretty sure she’s pregnant. We’ll know for sure in a couple of days, and are very excited about it. Oh, she knows about Lawrence and I, and she’s fine with it. We’ve even done some three-way stuff, but that’s a recollection for another day.

Middle School Madness

Middle school sexual madness

Our school was one of the last in the country to get rid of the concept that boys swim naked, girls wear suits. Of course the girls and the boys had separate swim times, but still, I was one of the last to have to strip naked with a bunch of boys and go swimming.

But that wasn’t bad enough. This was in the days of forced integration. The schools had to mix the black and white kids. The school system in our particularly violent city had the remarkably bad idea of integrating a traditionally all-black high school, by changing it into a mixed junior-senior high school, then bringing all white 7th and 8th graders, who had to defend themselves against much larger black kids in a world where the kids of both colors were taught hate by their parents. Not only that, the school was ridiculously overcrowded.

Needless to say, I had a bad time. I had a bus pass, and had to take city two busses each way, every day. I got up ridiculously early in the morning, and got home late.

I was assaulted many times in the school, and on the busses, too. I’m not sure how I came through all that unscathed.

Due to all the mixing of kids around the city, I only knew a few kids in the whole school, and none of them were in my huge gym class of approximately 60 boys.

The teachers in this wonderful school had given up on actually teaching. The gym teachers, for instance, sat in a glass walled office overlooking the pool and shower room, reading paperbacks and not participating in any way. For the baseball rotation, all 60 kids tromped out into the school yard, and tried to figure out for themselves how to manage an inning and a half of softball with so many kids in the outfield. The teachers stayed inside.

It was only a few minutes on the field, because for some reason I’ll never know, all gym classes required two showers. We were told to shower before going out on the field, then shower again afterward.

The shower room was a big open room, with showerheads lining the walls. All the boys were naked. It was terrible, yet it wasn’t so terrible. I was rather excited by the idea of seeing other nude kids. Especially their balls and willies. I was fascinated by the black kids. Their penises were much larger. Not because they were black, although perhaps there’s an optical illusion that makes black objects seem larger than white ones. It was because they were older. They had gone through adolescence, growing full-size genitals. Most were also uncircumcised, whereas the white kids were cut. In this class, most of the big black kids had hair ‘down there.’ Most of the white kids had no hair, or were just starting out with a few straggly hairs that you could barely see. No one had an erection.

At the time, I was imagining that if any of the boys got erect, they’d be hounded out of the school. It was fashionable to point out anything ‘gay’ about another boy as a way of teasing. Having an erection among the boys would have been an over-the-top infraction of our unwritten rules.

Another thing I’ll never be able to understand is that after the showers, sometimes the three gym teachers would put down their books, come into the shower room, line us all up, then slowly walk up and down the line behind us, every now and then pointing out a boy who had dirty ankles. That’s right, these teachers seemed to be concerned specifically with our ankles. Sometimes a couple of kids would be held back while the rest of us dressed to go on to our next class. I never knew what happened with the held-back kids.

When the swimming rotation came around, I was filled with dread. The showers were bad enough. I hadn’t been naked in front of anyone since before I could remember, except for doctor’s exams. Even those weren’t naked. He’d stick his hand in my underpants, feel around for like three seconds, then get on with the rest of the exam.

The day came, and like all the other kids, almost all of which were feeling weird and shy as we were marched out of the shower room, into the echoey, windowless, green tile lined swimming pool room.

We stood along the walls shivering. The gym teachers had disappeared again. There was no instruction. A few kids jumped in, and eventually most of us did. We just splashed around a bit, then it was back to the showers. I stayed in the shallow end, because I couldn’t swim, and was afraid to put my head under water. I learned nothing in that class, and still can’t swim, fifty years later.

Nothing more happened that day. Two days later, it was another swimming day. It started the same. All sixty kids showered, then went naked into the pool room. We got in the water more quickly. At one point, a big scary black kid started swimming back and forth in front of me, and when he popped up, he whispered in a hoarse voice that he expected me to meet him behind the cafeteria after school. I didn’t know what that was about, but it scared the hell out of me. You can bet I stayed well away from behind the cafeteria for weeks after that.

There was something sexual insinuated in his request. Maybe he was offering or asking for a blowjob. I don’t know, or don’t remember. I’m not even sure I knew what a blowjob was back then. But it had an effect on me. Maybe it was the vision of his smooth, shiny black butt. Maybe it was being talked to while naked by a boy. Maybe because there was something in his voice, as if he especially liked me or something. I started growing an erection. I was immediately scared. More scared than the threat of this big black kid. In a moment, I’d have to hop out of the pool, and everyone would see me with a boner. What was I to do? What could I do? I was thinking frantically, but had no answer.

Then, one of the coaches reentered, and blew a whistle. This was the moment of no return. My erection had not subsided. I did the only thing I could do, I climbed out of the pool and lined up against the wall with the other kids. At first I tried to keep my hands in front of my erection, but I realized that only made the situation more obvious. I brought my hands to my sides, giving up. I tried acting as if I was being bold, and proud or at least indifferent to show my erection. Nothing could be further from the truth, but what else could I do? Now-a-days, I wonder about that. Why did the erection persist? Was the fear actually affecting me adversely?

I was convinced all the boys would point, and laugh, and call me all sorts of names like ‘gay’ and maybe even worse. There was a bit of snickering, and a couple of pointed fingers, but not nearly the fanfare I had worried about.

In the shower, the erection would still not go down. I had given up, and just walked around and in the locker room with it waving, sticking straight out in front of me. No one talked to me, no one said anything. There wasn’t any more snickering or pointing. Finally, I dressed, and the erection subsided.

Once I got home and to the privacy of my bedroom, I was very preoccupied with what had happened. How could I ever return to school? What was I going to do? Then too, I was feeling something else. Like every afternoon after gym class, I jerked off with memories of the naked boys. I had orgasms that were still mostly dry, maybe letting out a drop or two of clear semen. But the orgasms were very enjoyable. They also made me feel guilty. Among the other teasing and carrying on among boys my age was the general idea that masturbation was a very bad, even a ‘gay’ thing. But the orgasms were so good! After that swimming class, I was especially horned up and still scared at the same time, and jerked off big-time. When I came, for the first time in my life, the cum was thicker and had a whitish cast.

The next Tuesday was like facing a firing squad. I had to swim naked again, and I was the boy who had had an erection in front of everyone. The reaction I got as I entered the shower naked with the other kids wasn’t at all what I was expecting. Boys, both big and black, and little and white, started coming up to me and trying to start conversations. They somehow respected me, or wanted to know me or something. That was a huge surprise.

Well, that was fifty years ago. I still think about the whole thing from time to time. I know now that things were way worse than I realized at the time. The school officials should have been sued. We learned almost nothing in that school, and I do believe there was something way more off about those gym teachers than I’ll ever know. I do remember telling my parents, and they simply didn’t believe me, thinking I must be making it up, because surely a school couldn’t be that bad. And, “Why was I talking so negatively about black people?” they asked.

For high school, I was transferred to a school in my neighborhood that was all white 9th – 12th graders, and integrated with all black 7th and 8th graders.

Here’s the good news: Although I’m a high-school dropout, I’m alive, happy, well, and somewhat successful today. Although I am bisexual, I’ve been happily married to the same woman for 32 years. I don’t hate black people although I was starting to during my junior high-school years. In fact, my wife is black.

I wrote another version of this memoir here: Integration, in which I was originally too shy to mention my own erection.

Integration

Middle school integration sexual experience

Wait ’till you hear my integration story! There’s a surprising sexual part, too, a little later on in this rather long-winded post.

Right before I was to start seventh grade in middle school, our school district was federally mandated to integrate at all costs. In this case, the cost being the welfare of the children.

In their great wisdom, they took an all-black high school, and turned it into a combined junior-senior high school. And how did they do that? They brought in all white seventh and eighth grade children, and left the older, bigger black kids as-is. This was in a major city where many of the parents of both races had taught their children to hate people of the opposite color.

Instantly, from the very first day, the little white kids got pounded by the big black kids. In very short order, I learned to bring a lunch, not lunch money to school, because it was taken every single day. I was assaulted constantly, as were hundreds of other little white kids.

I complained to the teachers, the vice principal, the principal, the school board, and my parents. In every case it was, ‘We can’t do anything about it,” which I interpreted as, “We don’t really give a shit.” In fact, my parents chose to believe I was making this up. In retrospect, I understand. If they let themselves think it was real, they’d be heartbroken or worse, knowing what was happening to their child, and not being able to do anything about it.

I was given a city bus pass. I’d ride right past the local should I should have gone to, head north to downtown, wait at a transfer station for a second bus, then take that southeast to my school. It took ninety minutes each way.

Twice I was accosted on the buses. In one case, I had a broken glass bottle held against my chest. In another case, a knife against my stomach. I wasn’t actually cut in either case, but it was super-scary.

Then there were all the assaults at school. My wife says I have traces of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) to this day. One kid I know from that school was hit so hard – knocked against a table – that he required brain surgery, lost the sight in one eye, and had a very weak grip with one hand.

Toward the end of the school year, it was a hot spring day. The school did not have air conditioning. A riot broke out in the cafeteria. It wasn’t the first time, but this riot became much more severe than any prior to that. Immediately all the teachers ran out of the room. Many children were injured. Kids piled up against the doors so hard no one could get out. Chairs, trays, food and silverware flew through the air. I saw one girl get smashed in the face by a flying chair. I did not see her for the rest of the school year.

I knew the pattern could not be repeated for eighth grade, even if I myself, with no attributes other than any other 13-year-old, had to do something about it. So, I showed up the first day at East High School, the one in my own neighborhood, claiming I hadn’t received a schedule in the mail. Actually, I had wadded it up and thrown it away.

They assigned me temporary classes. For the first two weeks I was sure they’d figure out what I had done, and I’d be in big trouble. But they never found out. Unfortunately, East High School had been integrated in a similar way. Now, I was almost the only white kid among all the 8th graders, and was hated for that. All the older kids were white, but that didn’t help me any. Approaching 14 years old, my body was starting to grow, so I was less of a target.

But that’s not the worst of it. Back in seventh grade at Madison High School, the phys ed department was absolutely horrible. In my massive class of more than sixty kids, we were of all ages. I never understood that. Why not just seventh graders?

The three ‘teachers’ sat in a glass-walled office just off the shower room reading paperback books. One of the gym teachers was remarkably heavy set, just the opposite of physically fit.

If the weather was fifty degrees or above, the sixty of us would be shuffled out into the school yard, and we had to figure out for ourselves what to do, as the gym teachers stayed inside. We might play an inning and a half of softball until the time was up – with three kids on bases, a pitcher, short stop, and maybe thirty kids in the outfield and thirty more waiting to bat.

Now, it starts to get weird. For some reason, we all had to take showers before we went out into the field, or into the gym on cold days. It was a common shower room, with shower heads all along the walls. We were expected to get stark naked in front of all the other kids, which for me, and no doubt many of the others with conventional, conservative upbringing, was exceedingly scary and embarrassing.

Then, the water would be shut off, and the three teachers came out of their glass-walled office, had all the naked boys line up, and would slowly walk up and down the line, pointing out a kid here and there with dirty ankles. I’d look at the ankles of kids who were singled out, and didn’t see the evidence the teachers were claiming. These few selected boys would be held back while the rest of us put our clothes back on. I never did find out what happened with them, but have my suspicions.

We’d have about fifteen minutes for our little bit of softball or rope climbing, or dodgeball or whatever it was, then back to the showers AGAIN. Again naked, we all showered together.

I should point out that the kids in this gym class were integrated. Many of the little white kids, such as myself hadn’t grown any hair yet, and had little peckers. Some of the older black kids had the whole works, with glistening curly black hair ‘down there.’

At one point in the year, we had swimming. All the naked boys were shuffled into the pool room. It was a tiled room, with a high ceiling, and no windows. Yes, we swam naked. Now, I’m told this was fairly common in the 1950s and maybe the 1960s, but this was the early 1970s. Perhaps ours was the last school on Earth to do that. I don’t know.

We were given no swimming instruction. I don’t even recall the teachers being in the room. We just splashed around in the pool. Those who could swim, did so. Those who could not, hung along the wall at the shallow end just shivering and conversing a bit.

One day, a big black kid start swimming near me as I hung against the narrow wall, standing about chest deep in the water. He came really close to my dick several times, then squeezed behind me, between my ass and the pool wall, pinching my ass as he passed by. He then rose out of the water, and commanded me to meet him behind the cafeteria after school.

After school that day, I never ran to the bus stop so fast in my life! I was scared for days that he would find me and along with several of his friends would pound me to death. I was so scared, I dropped out of gym class. I just quit going, wandering around the halls, or escaping out of the building until the period was over. Again, I was scared to death that I’d be in big trouble.

I was never found out, and my report card showed a B for gym class every time.

Very occasionally, a kid might have an erection. At one point I was one of them. I wrote that up in a bolder version of this story here: Middle School Madness.

My own take on all this was of several sorts:

1. I was terribly embarrassed to be naked with the other kids.

2. I was scared to death by the bigger kids. Without clothes felt even more vulnerable.

3. I was somewhat sexually excited. I had started secretly masturbating at home, had no access to any sort of porn, so this much nakedness, even if all young and male, was ‘interesting.’

4. I knew however, that springing wood would be real trouble, and somehow managed not to get erect during any of those showers or swimming ‘lessons,’ except one time. When I think back on it, it’s just amazing that as a kid of that age, I had that much control.

So that was my seventh grade gym class. That, at least, was better in eighth grade at East High School.

During my Madison High days, I, who had been open-minded toward black people, learned to hate them. Over the years, as if by slow-acting magic, I became more balanced in my reasoning, knowing that black people, if given the same opportunities as white people will excel to the same degree. I met black people who were empathetic, lovely individuals, and so finally came to a much better mindset.

However, I seem to maintain a very bad attitude toward school administrators:) And that’s hilarious, because I sometimes play pickleball with a university president. OK, so I don’t hate him.

For years there was talk of class action suits against the school board, but nothing ever came of it. After all, they were just ‘doing their best’ in the face of federal mandation.


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