Who would guess that a paper route could be erotic?
Get your mind out of the gutter! This is reality, not some porn flick; I was not lured into anyone's home and seduced at 11 years of age. What happened was a little more conventional than that. But just as spontaneous.
I was up early(ish), as usual, and had nearly completed delivering my load of 75 rolls of the Saturday edition of the San Francisco Chronicle. It was about 8:30am and still quiet on the streets of my lower-middle class East Bay neighborhood. As I casually pedaled my bike toward home, my last delivery now completed, the front pouch of my too-large carrier's bag sagged low in front of me, heavy with three leftover newspapers. Soon, the rhythmic *thwap* of the carrier bag bouncing against my crotch and the pressure of the bicycle seat under my ass caught my attention. My young penis's attention actually. This was certainly not the first erection I'd ever had but it proved to be one of the most memorable. Unlike the ones I'd had before, this erection would not subside. After pedaling further I finally had to stop. I surreptitiously slid my hand behind the carrier bag and pressed the heel of my palm hard against my jean-clad penis. Then I slowly moved my palm down, pressing hard. O. Wow.
Feeling confined on the bike, I stepped off of it and looked around to see if anyone might be watching me. While looking around I realized that there was a tall, hard surface slightly ahead and to the left of me. Without further thought I approached the object of my sudden desire, a smallish, ugly tree, and pressed the length of my body against it. Then I quickly thrust with the full force of my very erect penis against the tree. Once. Twice. Three times. Fighting the strong desire to continue thrusting, I stopped. What if someone sees me?
I really should not be seen humping a tree on a Saturday morning.
Well, never, really. Some could say that this incident marks the beginnings of deviant sexuality. In particular, arborsexuality. But it didn't. In fact, those three thrusts comprise the totality of all my amorous encounters with any kind of tree. The truth of the matter is that I only desired the tree because it was there. I swear that I have not humped any trees since that morning.
I remounted my bike, rode home, went immediately to my bedroom, pulled my pants down, put my naked penis between the cool sheets of my bed and my pillow case, and humped for less than a minute before The Event That Changed Everything occured.
I was not completely naive. I knew about sex and semen and how babies are made and all that, but I did not know about orgasms. It turns out that, like a multitude of other organisms on our planet, I really like them. Within a few weeks the underside of my pillowcase was thoroughly encrusted with the remains of many residues which proved how much I liked orgasms.
Sex with my pillow was thoroughly satisfying in and of itself. When I humped I didn't think about anything besides how good it felt. But that changed after a dream I had many months later, in seventh grade.