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My First Exhibition

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by Hector Between the ages of ten and twelve, I became pretty well hung. My cock measured almost seven inches in length, which is average, but it was unusually thick. When I wrapped a string around it, then measured the string, it showed my cock to be almost seven inches in circumference. That’s nearly two and a quarter inches thick (in diameter). I’m not bragging; there are guys that make me look like a needle-prick. But it was mine, I loved its thickness, and I wanted to show it off. I believe that was the seed of my exhibitionism. The pressure to exhibit was full on me just before my thirteenth birthday (1941). A friend of my mom’s, we’ll call her Mrs. W, came to visit. My mom wasn’t home, and I didn’t expect her for at least an hour and a half. Mrs. W chose to wait. She asked me to play the piano for her, so I played Chopin (her favorite) while she filled the ashtrays with Tarington extra-long cork tips. All the time I was playing, I stared at Mrs. W’s legs. She had them crossed, and I could see the bare backs of her thighs -- beautiful, meaty thighs. When she started to flex those thighs and move her foot around in a circle, I remembered seeing a girl get off in the schoolyard that way. I finished playing, jumped up from the piano, and did a couple of slow bumps and grinds, as though I was kidding around. I wasn’t. I was deadly serious. “You do that very well,” she said. “It comes natural,” I answered. “See?” I boldly straddled the armrest of the couch and began humping it. I loved the expression on her face while she watched me, the way she licked her lips, the way she squeezed her thighs together. Up until that time in my life, I had never been that excited. I was so excited, in fact, all my inhibitions melted away. I stood up. My cock pressed so hard in my pants, I though it was going to break. I looked her right in the eyes as I unzipped my fly and hauled it out. She couldn’t take her eyes off it as I started jerking off. I did everything I could to keep from coming too soon. Her face became suddenly flushed. Then, her stare focused on my cock, she started squirming in her chair and kicking her foot. I couldn’t take it any longer. I shot my load into my left hand, so I wouldn’t get it on the carpet. With my right hand full of cock and my left full of cum, I hurried to the kitchen, where I cleaned up. When I returned to the living room, I sat down on the same couch I’d been dry fucking. She lit a cigarette, blew out a puff of smoke, and looked straight into my eyes. “Can you keep a secret?” she asked. I nodded yes. “Can you keep this one?” I nodded an emphatic yes. She stood up, walked to the couch, and looked down at me. “If you can,” she said, “then maybe we can do this again sometime.” “Aren’t you going to wait for mom?” I asked. “No. You probably don’t understand yet, but I’m too wet. I have to go home and get cleaned up.” At the door, just before she left, she turned and kissed me on the cheek. “That was very good,” she said. “Keep it a secret, and we’ll do it again.” I’ve kept that secret until now, but we never did it again. She and her family moved, and we lost track. I’ll never forget that time, though, when I stood in the middle of the living room, jacking off in front of Mrs. W. It was the debut of my life-long dedication to exhibitionism. What was so great about it? Only another exhibitionist would know.

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