by Stuart Balcomb
As a typical fifteen-year-old male, my hormones were on overload most of the time. It was that time of life when I was overly obsessed with the opposite sex. I kept girly magazines such as Pic, Tab, and Playboy under my mattress (what a stupid place to hide them from my mother!). During the summer going into my sophomore year I took a typing class at the high school, as did my good friend, Matt (my age), and his sister, Cathy (one year older and drop-dead gorgeous). The school was quite far away, but if there was enough time, sometimes we walked, and other times one of our mothers drove us if we were too late to get a bus.
The car rides to the class were usually torture for me because I was in close proximity to Cathy, and just the sight of her turned me on. It also did not help that the jostling of the car further stimulated me, and I very quickly had an erection. Painfully so. When we got to the school it was quite the effort to get out of the car without a) hurting myself and b) letting the whole world see my bulging crotch. I always made sure I carried a book or notebook to artfully hold in front of me while I went from car to school, and thankfully the erection usually subsided by the time I got to class.
During my life I’ve wondered if women really know the effect they have on us men. Sometimes I think they are oblivious, but then other times I’m sure they know exactly how we feel. In Cathy’s case, I don’t think she ever caught on. Even though she was a friend, because she was a class ahead of me, I wasn’t even on her radar.