Saturday, February 7, 2015
The curiosity of youth—particularly boys—never stops. Of course, when it comes to titties, legs, bottoms and curvaceous girls, boys become fascinated at a fairly early age. I remember being in third grade and falling for my elementary school teacher, Mrs. O'Neill. Of course, the "Mrs." never occurred to me that she might have been "spoken for" but it didn't care. My pre-hormonal interests didn't stray far from that teacher, but I remember being quite smitten over a beautiful girl in sixth grade. I wrote her poetry.
Junior high was a series of unexpected boners that required clever concealment, but love wasn't in the air through those years. I was just trying to avoid getting in fights, which is why we ended up moving to a new school district.
I saw a TV show recently (I don't remember which one, in fact, maybe it was a movie) in which two boys are oogling the Sear Roebuck catalog's lingerie section. Oh, I remember those days. I remember hearing comedians joke about National Geographic and topless native peoples, but when I sought those out I was never horny enough to find them stimulating.
Around those junior high days, I went camping with some friends. As our parents played cards in one of the families' trailers we hung out in the dark as I undressed two girls and used their belts and mine to bind their budding breasts and restrain them to a pole. That's my earliest recollection of kink, though at the time I thought the belt as a kind of bikini top was quite a fetching fashion statement for the young ladies.
We didn't get caught and we all decided mutually to stop our shenanigans. Yeah—"the curiosity of youth." That shit got me in some interesting situations as I grew older...