More stuff they didn't tell me.
In school they never told us how the sperm got into the woman to fertilize the egg. The words "semen," "ejaculation," and [shudder] "orgasm" were never mentioned. "Wet dream" was the closest they got, and even then we were not told what was really going on.

Some of the other boys asked how they would know if they were peeing or losing sperm. The teacher just smiled, with a twinkle in her eye, and said "Oh, you'll know."

At about 12 years old I started waking up with wet pj's some mornings, and although I knew it was a wet dream, I didn't put it all together.

One night, not long afterward, I was playing basketball. To pump it up, I sat on the ball and used a tube-shaped hand pump. Some friends down the street saw me in my driveway pumping up the ball, and because I was lit from behind, all they could see was my silhouette, pumping away between my legs. They teased me about it, and because I'd not yet discovered the joys of wanking I bore their teasing with surprising dignity.

Probably not long afterward, I was sleepless with thoughts of a certain girl in the grade ahead of me. I found that it felt good to imagine that my hand was hers. I noticed it felt strange but exciting to "pump up the basketball" and was strangely curious about what would happen if I kept going.

A whole lot of my educational deficiencies were made up for in about three seconds. 25 years later, I'm still "furthering my education."
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Fri 26 Sep 2008, 15:45, Reply)