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Inspirational Reads

TMI Thursday: My First Time

August 6, 2009

In the seventh grade, I had two really good friends: Josh and Shannon. Shannon was Josh's cousin, and one night, Josh had both of us over for a sleepover. It was awesome. We played Nintendo. How fucking cool was that?

Josh's dad had an impressive collection of Playboys. Fortunately for Shannon and myself, they were stashed in Josh's closet. Brilliant move, Mr. Josh's Father. This meant that, while Josh was playing Nintendo, Shannon and I perused the glossy pages of airbrushed sex presented before us.

Eventually, we got around to the topic of masturbation, which was odd, considering we were in seventh grade and, well, talking about shit like that meant you were gay. And, as we were currently perusing Playboys, that meant we certainly weren't gay, right? Anyway, a couple of guys had been caught jerking off in the bathrooms at school (one guy was a repeat offender!), and we talked on this while idly flipping through the good parts of the magazines (the articles, of course). Suddenly, Shannon leaned over to me and, in a conspiratorial tone, said, "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I swear," I said, in the same tone. I think I suspected what was to come next.

"I've done it," Shannon said. "A lot."

Gasp and swoon! Well, I held onto the secret for...what...twenty years now? I learned a lot about Shannon that weekend that I probably didn't want to know (you know, kind of like you guys and Thursdays around here!), like how he had phone sex with my cousin Jamie, and how he would get boners when leaning back in his seat in Social Studies. One of the most uncomfortable moments of my life happened when he leaned back one day during class. A few minutes later he looked over at me and gave me a nod. I offered a half-nod back, and suddenly became very interested in South American geography.

As luck would have it, my father also had quite a collection of Playboys. I had smuggled a few into the house and horded them as my own. Despite several people I knew getting caught doing the act, and the secret confessions of a friend during a sleep over, I had yet to venture down that particular avenue, though I kept the magazines and would look at them somewhat often. Despite the fact that I would get raging hard looking at these pictures, I wouldn't seal the deal.

However, learning that Shannon did it softened my resolve (but not my raging hormonal staff) and, late one night when I was certain my brother was asleep, I tried it. Unsure of what to expect, it went something like this:

*stroke*
*stroke*
Nothing.
Wait.
*stroke*
*stroke*
Nothing.
*stroke*
*stroke*
Nothing.
Wait.
Give up.

A few weeks passed after this initial foray into autoerotic enjoyment. My parents went out for a dinner date with my dad's work, leaving me and my two siblings in the able care of my grandfather. This was the same grandfather who taught me that little boys like to pee outside. He was a lovable chap and I certainly enjoyed spending time with him, so I felt a little guilty when I decided that tonight was tonight.

We had a storage room upstairs that was well-away from everywhere else. My parents stored canned fruits and vegetables and various jams and jellies up there. Also, ceramic decorations for various holidays were stowed in that room. Lots of other crap had accumulated, and it was here that my brother and I kind of had a hidden fort. It was also about the only place in the house one could go for some alone time. Sometimes I would go there and read. Tonight, I slipped in there with my illicit booty pilfered from my father's collection.

I remember the Playmate, too--Charlotte Kemp. She was Miss December, 1982. I opened up to her pages and flipped through, finally opening up her centerfold and staring, enraptured, at her naked body. She was a curvy, luscious woman whose hair was tinged with red and she had immensely large breasts and a patch of untamed bush stretching from the middle of her torso to her knees, it seemed. She wore a corset that was temptingly unlaced, some white stockings that reached the middle of her thighs, and heels. I remember the heels keenly because her leg was cocked in such a way that it was not difficult to imagine one of the heels...entering her, for lack of a better term.

And, it drove me wild.

Anyway, as I stared, I started to rub. And rub. And rub. And then, suddenly, oh, hey, wow! I was done. There it sat, in the palm of my hand, the liquid fruits of my labor. It had felt...different...sort of good. Other than that, I don't remember feeling much else. But, I remembered thinking "What do I do with this now?"

Remember how I said the room wasn't used much? Right. I figured no one would notice if I wiped my hand off on the wall. So I did. Right there behind the door where someone would really have to look if they wanted to find it.

Finished, I pulled my pants up, waited a couple of minutes, and went down stairs and spent the rest of the evening with my grandfather. The guilt and anger and hatred didn't hit me until the next morning. That's when I started my Guilt Journal, as I've come to call it.

The stain, as far as I know, still remains. Since the room was little used except for storage, it was never repainted. And, with some of the mason jars being mishandled and breaking, there were lots of other stains on other parts of the wall. Whoever buys my parents house, however, will be getting quite a surprise if they decide to look behind the door. Heh heh heh.

As for Ms. Kemp...I kept the magazine for a few months, using her lovely images to complete my lustful yearnings until one day I was so overcome with guilt and grief that I threw her away along with a couple of the others I had kept. A few years later, I bought a copy of the December 1982 issue of Playboy for nostalgia's sake, but then gave it to my friend Alex when I got married. Still, Charlotte Kemp is one of my all-time favorite Playmates, even though she's looking a little weather-worn these days.


Does this not sate your thirst for awesome TMI stories? Then check out all the other glorious tales of things we probably shouldn't tell at LiLu's home for the staunchy raunchy, TMI Thursdays!

26 comments:

Sass said...

I wonder if you can paint over it. Or if it'd just fish-eye like water based paint does over oil based paint.

Although, it'd be water based...so I'm assuming it'd work.

Where was I?

Boys are strange.

Mr. Condescending said...

Jenks you were looking at my blog while I was looking at yours. If this was back in 7th grade you'd think we were gay!

I laughed pretty hard at wiping it on the wall! That stuff will stain anything.

Hilarious.

otherworldlyone said...

Psssh! Boys! Always putting their jizz places they shouldn't be.

Elliott said...

I think everyone's father had a vast collection of Playboys. I always just figured it was the law, like two or more passengers in the carpool lane or the whole mattress tag thing.

Some Guy said...

Man, you truly have a way with words. I remember finding my dad's stash. Mine was the Bo Derek "10" issue (March 1980).

Samsmama said...

In all my years of schooling I never once heard of a kid getting caught jerking it. But I went to catholic school. They were probably afraid of burning in hell.

I can't picture C. Kemp so must go google her. Your description of her bush was lovely. Seriously, what was with the lack of pubescaping back then? I'm so glad times have changed.

Bev said...

Thanks for the linky-love, mjenks! Also, I know this sounds weird b/c I'm a chick and all, but I TOTALLY remember Charlotte Kemp's centerfold! Oh, mem'ries.

I love this story, and I love TMI Thursdays. Also, as a mother of two sons, I will be on the look-out in about 7 short years (!) for mysterious opalescent stains on my walls.

Mala said...

I heart TMI Thursdays.

And aren't you the sweatest guy ever, passing on your playboy when you got married. awwwwww..... *snicker*

j-face said...

I feel like I just hit puberty all over again...

corticoWhat said...

Damn! Through the first two paragraphs I had Shannon pegged as a girl. You are gay....or at least Shannon was (half-nod).

red said...

I thought Shannon was a girl, too. I had this story going in an entirely different direction.

Cora said...

Pffft! I accidently found my dad's stash of Playboys in the garage when I was a kid. He had hidden them in an old suitcase which was identical to the suitcase where all the dress up clothes were kept. Imagine my surprise when I unzipped the bag and out slid all these magazines of naked women instead of the feather boas and old purses I was looking for!

*shudder*

Jenks, I saw things. I saw things that day which burned through my eyes and right into my brain. I have never been able to shake those images. Never.

EWWWWW!!!!!

Unlike you (for obvious reasons) I wasn't quite so appreciative of the Playboy chicks I was. I ran out of the garage feeling horrified, guilty, on the verge of vomiting. The first person I saw was my mother who asked me what was wrong, and I couldn't stand to see her knowing what she must look like under her clothes. I ran from her too!

Damn, I even felt grossed out playing with Barbies that day! It was not a good day. Not at all.

But, oddly, the first time I saw a Playgirl magazine a few years later, I felt just fine. Heh heh heh. :-)

LiLu said...

I bet every boy remembers the first Playmate they rubbed one out to. Ah, memories.

Jidai said...

... What's a Playboy?

Gwen said...

I found my first Playboy at my uncle's house when I was 12 and we were visiting for a week. I read them on the toilet because that's where I thought you were supposed to read them.

JennyMac said...

OMG....this is the best "in lieu of kleenex" story I have EVER heard.

Thankfully your Mom didn't happen into the veggie closet that night. Canned corn doesnt smell like that....

verybadcat said...

way to make your mark! ;)

Nej said...

You just wiped it on the walls?

(shaking my head)

Really??

TishTash said...

You knew it was the night when you would finally rub one out, and you didn't bring a towel with you? You, sir, were no boy scout.

P.S. How long did it take the first time?

Eric said...

Mjenks said to the wall 'Yeah, take that all you dirty, dirty wall, every last drop'.

lol

Zan said...

You didn't have a sock?

Soda and Candy said...

I think this is my favorite confessional TMI ever. Of anyone's. It does make me a little sad that you felt guilty about it. But obvys you're over that now!!!

Stacie's Madness said...

I feel so dirty now...

*must wash hands and walls*

thanks!

Elliott said...

Charlotte Kemp must be the thing. I just did the cover search, October '83 edition had her on the cover. It wasn't necessarily the first one I ogled, but definitely the one that stands out in my mind as the go-to edition.

Sassy Britches said...

Here's my TMI: I have a jizz wall at my house too (and it's not mine!). Pretty weird, eh?

oscar said...

Charlotte Kemp has been a goddess for me since my boyhood(I was surprised at my first ejaculation too.) I could'nt see her pubic hair, because Japanese authorities prohibited putting on view to general public then, but I used to play with myself to her fluffy creamy mounds, graceful smile and womanhood. I'm very very glad to find the Charlotte Kemp fan.
Thank you.