I’ve been spanking mine since I was a tweenster and thankfully that never prevented the little bugger from being hungry for more. Having had my first orgasm at the hands of another boy, it may have taken me a little longer than others to learn that I could do this all on my own. Wow, what a revelation that was!
All the fuss and condemnation around pleasures of the body, have always been a mystery to me. Right from the beginning of puberty, I had my first sexual experiences. It was all pretty spontaneous and wonderful. Luckily, I knew some like minded boys eager to explore the priapic wonders popping up in our newly found sex lives. For a brief time, shame was not part of our Edenic experience.
A few of my most profound memories stem from this time. One was when I was showering after a swim proudly showing my full-blown woodie that had popped up at the sight of one of the men showering. The poor guy was horrified at the sight of my brazenly displayed member in full glory, most likely he was not aware that his furry chest was the source of my inspiration. It didn’t take long for him to leave the shower, and no doubt in disgust and shock. So the lessons in shame begin.
Another of my pre-shame displays was on a boy scout outing lying in a field on my back, naked. I was communing with nature, bare for all to see, and without a care that my tumescent self was saluting all who happened by. My reverie was broken by a scout leader yelling at me to put some clothes on, and grumbling something about how I should be ashamed of myself. The lessons in shame get harsher.
But, the incident that really ended my idyllic year of budding erotic awareness came from a neighbor boy. We were out in the woods, always a source of erotic potential for me, when he exposed his sacred jewels. Of course, I did the natural thing by reaching out to pet his monkey. I’m not sure what he had in mind but I hardly expected him to back off and hurl the ultimate insult of fag at me. Full-blown shame hits home.
We learn shame. It took me many more years to roll back the layers of its negativity. Unfortunately, I am hardly unique in this kind of experience, nor is sexual shame uniquely a gay phenomenon. It touches us all in one way or another and can be found everywhere. Like violence it keeps perpetuating itself, and as with violence the cycle can be stopped. It was stopped at Stonewall in 1968 by those brave drag queens, it was stopped by activists against AIDS, and in countless other ways when people have said enough to all this.
Each of us in our own way can stop shame. Every time we connect intimately with another person, when we share an orgasm, when we kiss, and when we connect with our erotic energy we are saying stop. Eros is a life affirming energy, it has its own path and its own rules. With every erotic encounter, we say yes to life and reclaim a bit of the positive energy that pulsates through the universe. With every yes, we reaffirm ourselves and say no to the negative forces trying to make us feel shame for living. That’s why the monkey returns for more. The monkey knows best.