My father was a football god, have you ever seen shots of Frank Gifford as a college guy, well, my dad had the same kind of film star looks, but more like Paul Newman. Of course, when I was a kid I had no idea that's who I was hanging around with- I mean he was just Daddy to me.
I'm just guessing, without paying for analysis, but there are some pretty obvious jock connections in my life.
My grandfather was a coach for the local college b-ball team and we ended up living just down the road. It was a small Catholic school, all male, and I gotta wonder now how all that testosterone, restrained , fettered, 50's and early 60's, filtered into my mind and body.
My dad, as a hot local jock,( 4 letters in 4 sports in a good college}, had run of the place. It seemed as though, from birth, I was in one gym after another, and they seemed to be a great place to be.
One minor problem, I was a spaz. Even at 6 and 7 I was running big, but with no coordination at all. So , during pick-up games or league games , Dad left me with the college guys who were there on scholarship, jocks of lacrosse or b-ball or whatever. The guys' quarters were like a barracks in the gym, with bunks along two walls, 18 or 20 jocks in residence, with a big communal bath and shower room in one corner, kinda like when I was in the army, although the college shitters had doors on them.
The college kids were friendly, good guys, and I was relaxed there but the constant presence of naked butts made me shy, and interested. IQ smart, real world ignorant, I had no clue that the little nub I had was any relation to these thick, swinging items with all this hair and what? I had no idea that testicles (I didn't even know the word) could be so big and move so freely. I was shy, really bookish, and most of these guys, while really friendly, had no clue I was seriously spooked by their naked bods.
I guessed that everyone else thought it was totally natural, but whenever I used the bathrooms, the walls were covered with crude drawings of cocks and cunts.
Natural or not, by the time I was ten or eleven, I was in state of extreme horniness, but with no clue as to what to do with my ?????, I didn't even know what to call it.
I figure my questions normally would have gone to father but he was jock and I was brain and never the twain should meet, until a few years later.
I don't remember the first conversation, but I know that for months I was lying naked in the morning, hopefully with a hard-on, hoping that Dad would come in and notice my dick with some comment. Was I fully gay by then? I have no clue. Playboys were still getting me mighty horny, I mean that I was jerkn' off with guys and pussies in my mind.
But then I entered prep school, with a long three hour drive to school, which my Dad would drive with me. Somehow, in the beginning of my sophomore year, I moved the discussions of our drive to sex, moving my Dad to reminisce about past conquests. Early on, I'm not certain of the context, I got the feeling my Dad would kill, without remorse, a fag. But that didn't scare me away from asking him about sex, fucking in general and specifics.
Some of his past had homoerotic escapades that just made me hornier (if it wasn't obvious already, I was in a state of almost constant erection for these drives, the Dairy Queen was a break on the way) and at some point we crossed the line from, I guess, normal to so-so.
By the middle of 4th form I was a 5'11" 200 lb kid, I had no clue that I was a semi-big fuck and was still pretty bookish. But I was seriously horny, and I tried to get my Dad to help. At some point he had mentioned the cheap porno that the guys in the family factory fucked around with, and I asked and pleaded with him to get a sample for me.
Next trip back to school he casually mentioned that he had grabbed a couple samples for me, that they were in the glove compartment. Before I dived in, I took the oppourtunity to ask him more in depth about his own fucking around. By the time I reached for the porno I was primed, stubby 5 incher leaking and all that, and I still wonder what my Dad was feeling.
The porno was, I now know, cheap trash, but to my febrile 14 year old mind, dick cumming kind of stuff.
After nonchalantly, shakingly, flipping through the pages I told my Dad that I was gonna slide into the backseat.
It was obvious that I was gonna jerk off and he said that I should get a grip, but I was past it at that point.
I slid my jeans and underwear down to my thighs and started to slippery slide in all the precum I had generated then I asked my Dad for even more details about his first girls, how he had fucked exactly, etc.
It never occurred to me, for many years, that he found anything exciting about it. In fact, I always got the feeling I was scaring him, but now I gotta wonder.
Anyway, I was in a high state of getting off, and after a bit of sexual conversation, I came big time. I thought I was being circumspect but who was I kidding? I mopped up, it was a big, overdue adolescent cum, and slid back into the front seat. No comment, and I was waiting. I didn't put my depleted, dripping cock back into my jeans for a few miles, hoping my Dad would say something, I don't know what, but there it lay, for a bit.
Needless to say, after I was dropped at school I had a lot to think about before our next ride home.