gym-orientation-4

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Subject: Gym Orientation Part 4 It was a special class. We had to get permission slips signed. Our regular gym class session and the new “Health Class” was going to be combined, and the boys all went to the locker rooms. I never bothered to find out what the girls did that day or where they went, but we had all been hearing rumors for weeks. Our new gym teacher (we just called him Coach) had to get the school nurse and the principal and the school board and whoever else to agree. But I was clueless about what was going to happen exactly. The locker room was one big square with lockers around the outer wall and rows of benches and then sinks by the entrance to the showers. Coach’s office was against one wall with a big window that looked into the locker room. His office connected through to another locker room on the other side, that was the visitors lockers for sports, and I noticed that the blinds to that side were down that day. Usually you could see through if you walked by. We were used to coming in for gym class and changing into our gym uniforms and then going up to the gymnasium, and then after gym we’d grab a towel and shower, but Coach came in while we were changing and said, “We’ll be in here today. Don’t bother getting into your uniforms. Just get into a towel like you’re headed into the showers, but sit tight. I’ll be right back.” He was wearing his baseball cap and shorts like always but a jacket too. It was a varsity letterman jacket with blue sleeves. We murmured about whether we’d be going outside somewhere, but certainly not in a towel in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon. He opened the door to his office, and we could hear something from the other locker room on the other side, but then it sounded like that door was closed and it got quiet. He was in there for a little, while we were changing. We were all sitting around wearing towels around our waists, and Coach wheeled in a blackboard, and he didn’t have the jacket on anymore, or a shirt. He was shirtless like all of us, and his hairy chest had a big blue C painted on it, like guys did for football games and pep rallies. We’d seen him half-dressed before in the locker room, changing, but not like that and certainly not for Health Class, which was usually in a classroom. “What’s with the C?” somebody asked, “C for Coach?” He said we’d know soon enough. He pulled down a chart, like the kind that is usually a map, but it had a diagram of a male body and an inset drawing of a penis and testicles, one of those anatomical illustrations where you have X-ray vision to see inside and each part is labeled. “Okay, gentlemen. Today’s special lesson is about the male reproductive system and about human sexuality.” We resisted the urge to start talking amongst ourselves, because we knew that Coach wouldn’t want that, but we all looked around at each other. Then somebody came out of the office, the principal, dressed as always in a suit and with those black-framed eyeglasses. He sat in the corner and folded his arms. Coach had tried for months to get everything allowed, and we had to have a chaperone. This was not “Sex Ed” officially. All the terminology was scientific terms that could be found in any encyclopedia. Coach explained that, “if we were curious about our own bodies, we each had a towel to keep ourselves covered, for privacy and decency.” In unison, şişli travesti we all repeated terms like “urethra” and “epididymis” as Coach explained and pointed to the diagram. I noticed more than one guy looking under his own towel at the real deal, privately, and then a couple others, so I did too. I had never stopped to really look closely or think about it. I squeezed the tip to “discern the meatus” and look at the open hole and feel the spongy tissue. Even with us all sitting around naked together under our towels, and with Coach and his big C and no shirt, it was still a pretty dry lecture. I didn’t see the whole fuss. We all had a million questions that we couldn’t ask. Then Coach said that we would have some special guests, some volunteers to help with the lesson, and he went back to his office and through to the other locker room. When he came back, he was followed by two men. They were also wearing towels, like all of us, and like Coach they had big blue letters on their chests, an A and a Z. And they were both wearing masks. Our mascot is the knight, and our school store sold knight helmet masks, like ski masks with holes for your eyes and mouth and printing on them to look like a knight’s helmet. People wore them at games and pep rallies. The masks were to provide anonymity, so nobody would know who they were when they removed their towels and stood in front of us as anatomical models. One man was a little taller and heavier, with less pubic hair and larger testicles. The other was shorter and more muscular and had long chest hair that swirled and grew up his body, and he was pretty well-endowed. Coach said, “Thanks to our brave volunteers here, we can see the range of body types. I’ll ask some questions, but our volunteers will just shake their heads for us, yes or no. Is your penis always so big?” The man shook his head no, and Coach went on to say that penis size can change if you’re cold or sick or just got out of a swimming pool. “And I bet there’s been times when you wish it were a little smaller, so it’s not in the way or as noticeable. The man nodded again. Then Coach asked the other man to pull back his foreskin. I didn’t really know what that meant, but I saw that the man had skin that went over the tip, so it looked different, but looked normal when he pulled it back. “Here we see an uncircumcised penis, just as it is when we’re born, and a circumcised one after the foreskin has been removed.” We all looked under our towels. “The glans stays protected and retains its sensitivity. You can see the darker color as he walks around to show you all.” I started to realize that I never really had the full picture, and Coach confirmed, talking about circumcision for a while, how under the foreskin is like the inside of the eyelid, internal. I wondered about the bodies around me under each towel. Some I had seen naked, but I never looked for long. Coach thanked them, and they walked back through his office to the other locker room. The principal stood up and walked up to the front of the room. He said something to Coach, quietly, so none of us could hear what he said, and then sat back down. After leaning into the other locker room, Coach came back in with four other guys, again with those hoods on their heads and letters on their chests, B L K M, and no towels this time. They kind of flopped beylikdüzü travesti as they walked. I wondered about them in that other room and how many were in there, and I thought about that time when I answered the phone and recognized Coach’s voice, and he asked to speak to the man of the house. I knew that none of us could recognize them with their faces covered, but I wondered if they had come in and put on those masks and then gotten naked together. Were they anonymous to each other? And they could see us, if they recognized us. “You gentlemen are all being very mature,” Coach said, but then I realized that he was saying it because a couple guys were whispering, probably joking. He talked about bodies and how they look and what they do. He talked about hair and how you might have more or less and have it get hairier earlier or later. He said, “Some penises are thicker or thinner, and a curve to one side or the other is common, as is having one testicle lower than the other, as you can see here.” The guy with a big M held his penis up out of the way. I noticed somebody sitting next to me lift his towel up to look at himself, and I caught a glimpse of how his balls were like that. He looked at me and adjusted his towel. “Or an undescended testicle,” Coach continued, and another man at the front showed how his balls were just one ball. Coach said, “You might notice bumps,” and he talked about some things that it could be, “or it could be papules. These are harmless, painless, not contagious, just how the skin grows there. Isn’t that right?” and the man with the B nodded and walked around with his dick held straight out as we each leaned over it to look. When he got back to the front, it seemed a little longer and stayed pointing out on its own. And one of the other men had gotten larger. “You can see here the difference in size at different times,” Coach said, “For some, it grows much larger or it could be roughly the same but become stiff, perhaps when waking up.” Some of the guys around me had their hands under their towels. Coach said, “And now… I think we’ll see some more examples,” and he looked back at the Principal, who nodded. Coach went through to the other room, and came back out a few seconds later. A long line of men came out, I didn’t count how many, all with a big blue letter on the chest and one of those knight masks pulled over their heads and no towels, and hard. They were all hard. I noticed Coach take something out of one of their hands and put it in the office. It looked like a rolled up magazine. “Erections, as you can see here, can be bigger and smaller, point up and down and straight out. They can be curved or slanted in every angle and shape.” Each dick was firm. Some pulsed up and down, like flexed. They all had their hands behind their backs, like it was an agreed-upon stance. I noticed how some were sticking out and up like I thought of as normal but some bent down or hung out. They really were all different and all the same. The principal motioned for Coach to step back to him, and they had a quiet little conversation in the back of the room, while we all looked around the room at each other, and the men at the front of the locker room stared straight ahead like soldiers or looked down at the row or adjusted their masks. Some guys were pulling or squeezing under istanbul travesti their towels. Some weren’t. Coach went back to the front of the room and quieted the class. Then he reached into the office and pulled out a sleeve of clear plastic cups. “Ejaculation…” he continued, “is the end stage of arousal.” He explained it in really scientific terms, like he was explaining how a bullet fires, all the time handing everybody in the room an empty cup, including the row of naked men, everyone except the principal. He talked about wet dreams and fertility and the prostate, but each guy was just looking at his cup. “Once the process is started, it can be uncomfortable or painful if it does not complete. And the amount ejaculated varies as well. It is possible that we might be able to observe this and the difference in amount, if it were to happen.” He kept talking without really saying anything, while slowly I noticed more and more guys holding, touching, tugging, sliding a hand down the length of his shaft, giving a little jiggle. And the guys around me were moving their hands under their towels, looking around at each other, confirming that they were not the only one. I held my hard dick under my towel, with this empty cup in the other hand still, and then I saw that guy next to me position the cup under his dick, the towel barely draped over and not really covering anything. He looked at me looking, and he made a face, freezing his mouth open and his stomach pulled in tight. He laughed with me as he looked at his filled cup. At the front of the room, the men were looking down at each other on the left or right. One was looking down only at himself. Coach had stopped talking and was just letting the room happen. I glanced sideways to the principal, and he adjusted himself and then went back to crossed arms, never making eye contact with any of the students around him. Then a loud grunt echoed off the silence and tiles, as one of the men at the front shot a jet of white up in the air and onto his knuckles before trying to get the last of it into his cup. Coach seemed to have a bulge in his shorts before he stepped into his office for a couple seconds, and came back out, fixing his waistband and pacing the room. More guys around me shot a little load under their towels, pointing their dicks into cups. I started to come, just as Coach started his lecture again, “Okay and… here we can see the variation in the amount produced,” as the two men at the end next to Coach, F and K, held up their cups. By this point, everybody who was going to do it had done it or was just finishing. Some didn’t finish. Some didn’t do anything. Everybody stayed to himself but a few kind of showed off or watched or let somebody watch. The principal stood up, and Coach said, “Well, we thank our volunteers for uh participating.” He walked them and the principal back into the other locker room and shut the door to wrap up class with us. We got dressed. I went to math class. I was distracted. I had work after school and got home late. I got in bed and heard a knock. My dad peeked in, in the dark room, and said, “Hey son. How are you?” He was ready for bed too, pajama pants and an undershirt. We talked a little about how I was tired from work. Then he said, “How was school?” I didn’t know what to say, so I just said fine. He nodded his head and said okay. As he stepped back, the light from my beside lamp hit him in a certain way so I could see little bits of blue through his undershirt. And he looked at me and said, “Goodnight.” Let me know if you liked hearing this, and if you donated to the site.

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