Boys, Don’t Twist an Arm to Get a Boner

When you realize what sexual arousal and the erection (boner) that goes with it are for—to make it so a guy’s penis can push its way into a woman’s vagina—it’s easy to assume that every erection will have a predictable starting point. In other words, if you are feeling tight in the crotch, you think you should be able to go, “Oh, yeah, caught some cleavage on that Melissa,” or “What would I expect? Jasmine just brushed up against me.” So, it seems like you should be able to justify erections and ask the question, “What logical reason would there be for my penis to think that I wanted to have sex with a girl right this minute?”

“It’s a common fear: You have an erection and it’s clearly caused by something that should not be stimulating to you.”

Well, of course, things aren’t that simple. You know that. You’ve no doubt awakened with a boner (“morning wood”) and your only real desire at that moment is to urinate. You might try to focus your foggy mind on the night behind you and try to remember a sex dream of some sort, but you won’t necessarily identify a fantasy lover who got you hot and bothered in your sleep. Generally, morning wood is the hardest boner you have (takes forever to go down) and seems the least justified (thoughts that usually seem sexy are pretty lame right then).

It’s a common fear: You have an erection and it’s clearly caused by something that should not be stimulating to you. Assuming you picture yourself an attractive heterosexual guy who will snag a beautiful bride in the coming years, it’s scary to think that something you consider perverted aroused you, particularly another guy or a younger child.

Boys Who Masturbate: Private! Keep Out!

In my previous article, Boys Who Masturbate, I detailed how I came to learn masturbation. I discussed the fact that I had over two years’ experience before I had a clue I wasn’t the only boy in town who played with myself regularly. Even then, it would have taken a lot to engage me in any sort of casual conversation about it. It was truly a guilty pleasure, and completely taboo.

Times are different now. YouTube lets kids see and be seen doing lots of outrageous and inappropriate things (though, usually not explicit). We’re in the era where a leaked celebrity sex tape is treated like it’s automatically everyone’s right to view. Song lyrics read like detailed sex manuals (“Baby in your ear! I put it your ear!”) When I saw jokes about teen masturbation in Transformers, there was no question in my mind that at least Hollywood thinks that the target audience—boys who mostly have yet to see their own semen—are already joking with each other about jerking off. Let’s compare an example of my experience to today: My interest in and education about sex coincided with my first first sight of semen (my surprise first ejaculation.) Today’s boys seem to acquire a library full of random (erroneous?) details about feminine hygiene, blow jobs, orgies, and gay sex. The average boy probably acquires a mini-PhD in semen by the time he becomes a producer. It’s hard to fault the ones who think, “I’ve learned to drive and now I have a car. There’s nothing left to wait for.”

“It’s not hard to imagine friends prodding each other into a shared experience. I’m here to say this is a bad idea.”

Boys Who Masturbate

As it turns out, I did not invent masturbation. Oh, sure, you knew that. Well, frankly, I know I’ve known it for a long time, myself, but when I first discovered what a fantastic feeling it was to hold a piece of wood in my lap while I worked on it with an orbital sander, I may have actually thought I was onto something revolutionary. Of course, I soon realized I could produce the same fluid with my hand. I may have realized it wasn’t a capability unique to me by the time I’d identified the word “masturbation” in a book at the city library. (Holy Hot Dog, Batman! There’s a word for what I do in the bathtub!) Still, it was an enormous revelation when during Driver’s Ed, in the summer after my ninth grade year, a guy bragged about asking a Special Ed. kid if he’d masturbated yet. Yet? Like it’s a given and only the timing is variable? Wow! I’d only waited two years for that news bulletin.

I Heart Boobies? Geez! Where Do I Begin?

I hate this new campaign to allow elementary school kids to display the word “boobies” at school. Of course, this wrist band/bumper sticker/T-shirt/etc campaign is really about breast cancer awareness. (Remind me again, what color goes with prostrate cancer awareness?) Oh, well, I guess it’s just a natural progression after the famously successful AIDS prevention campaign “Remember Your Fucking Rubber!” Remember those bumper stickers with the hilarious cartoon? Do you still have one those cuddly teddy bears that had “Remember Your Fucking Rubber!” tattooed on their derrieres? Okay, that was crude and I made it all up. My point is that in the desire to get this message as widespread as possible (and that’s presuming no dark motives), the “I ♥ Boobies” campaign creators are using a flamethrower of a word that leaves some scorched earth.

I Couldn’t Believe My Own Eyes

I guess it’s no rare event when you see a movie or TV show and think, “Well that wouldn’t happen in real life.” I guess that’s often okay. But then again, and especially for kids, certain movies and TV shows become permanent fixtures in your head. Some of them inevitably become significant data in your gut feeling for what normal people do, think, or believe. Now that’s scary.

Okay, I just introduced a topic which could fill a book, but my focus today is to sound off on some short clips of three TV shows and a movie. In these clips, children about 10 to 12 years old are discussing or viewing  or acting out material that, for me, would have been very sexually charged. In all these cases, the material is used as a throwaway comedy bit. That is, the presence of these sexually-charged materials or behaviors has zero impact beyond the short scene that contains each of them. It’s that sort of denial of personhood in others that helped to empower my sexual fantasies and enjoyment of pornography. (There, I tied this into the overall theme of this blog site! Moving on…)

Undressing Nudity, Part Four of Four

This is the fourth and final part of an essay on nudity. I’m trying to de-mystify it, un-power it, and un-couple it from associations that aren’t healthy.

I’ve always been fascinated by nudist camps, closed-access communities where people give each other complete visual access to their bodies. The idea of privates is meaningless. Back when, as a kid, I feared going to the doctor largely because he might have to see under my clothes, the idea of a nudist camp blew my mind. Even as an adult, when the idea of being a visitor kind of excites me, I imagine that I’d spend the whole time comparing forbidden body parts, hoping that a cross-section of society would be present and I could learn all sorts of things about body types and puberty and aging and so on and so forth. Well, I recently read a serious study about behavior and attitudes of nudists. Basically it was asking if all that exposure to nudity created a sexually-charged environment. Well, the conclusion was that a nudist camp and an orgy are nearly opposite environments. It made the nudist camp sound like prudes at a church supper. They didn’t discuss the human body or sex and they primarily did not look below the neck. They had virtual boundaries for themselves.