Araucaria
JUB 10k Club
There's something hot about getting young guys all aroused and horned up, letting them stay that way for a good while, and then frustrating them by not letting them cum, and denying them orgasm. This is the story of one young man.
I was 18, still in high school, and still a virgin. I guess I was really shy around girls, and I never really dated. I sat next to a girl named Melanie in study hour. She was really friendly, so I finally got the courage to ask her out.
When I told some of the guys about it, I found out that she has the nickname, "Melanie blue balls." It seems that she has a reputation as a big tease. She has a very forward "come on" approach, and she rubs up against the boys and gets them very aroused, sometimes for hours, but in the end she never does anything for them, or lets them get off. It's like her game is to get boys aroused as all get-out, and just as soon as the boy is convinced he's getting somewhere with her, Melanie says "I think you'd better drive me home."
So I took Melanie out, and sure enough, she gave me the tease. She'd smile and coo at me seductively, talk suggestively, and even occasionally touch me on the hip or something. She made me keep thinking that this was the night I'd finally get laid. This went on for over three hours. But finally she said, "Take me home."
I was really hurting in the groin, and I had a puddle of pre-cum on my undies, some of which seeped through my jeans.
It was so bad that, when I got home, I even confessed to my Dad that I had a bad case of blue balls.
"The thing to do about that is to take a cold shower," he said. "Just make sure you stay in there long enough so that you don't feel turned on anymore. And when you think you've got it licked, stay under the cold water for another two minutes, I suggest you count to 120 slowly." Something about this sounded bogus, but there was something in Dad's voice that was authoritative, commanding. And I had the strange sense that I wanted to submit to Dad's orders, to obey them.
So I trotted off to the bathroom, got in the shower, and turned the cold water on full blast. Damn, that water's cold! Nonetheless, I stood under the water until I was freezing, and then an extra couple of minutes, counting to 120 slowly, to make sure there could be no arousal left in me.
I got out of the shower, teeth chattering and goose-bumpy, and dried off quickly. I ran back to my bedroom.
"Did the cold shower work?" My Old Man asked.
"Sure did." I felt terribly embarrassed being naked in front of Dad like this, realizing the shrinkage from the cold made my dick and balls look like a 10 year old's. He took a whole minute sizing up what the cold shower did to my anatomy.
"The best thing to do now is to just go to bed."
Still shivering, I put on my pajamas, and got under the covers and went to sleep.
Looking back on it, the obvious answer for blue balls is to go into your room and just rub one out. But staying under the cold shower like my Dad said did make me forget about the ache down there, and being aroused. Besides, he seemed to take a dim view of boys jacking off.
And for the next couple of months or so, I went out with Melanie, and it was the same routine. She'd get me all horned up for a couple of hours, I'd come home frustrated, and I'd jump in the cold shower. I'm sure the showers let Dad know that she really frustrated me sexually. But I was just dumb and naive enough to keep going out with the Queen of Orgasm Denial, and also for Dad's cold shower remedy. I know I went through the whole routine about 9, 10 times over the period I dated her.
You'd think doing this would make me wake up every morning with a raging hard-on. But my dates with Melanie were usually on a Friday or Saturday night. Whatever night it was, I'd usually get waked up by Dad the next morning, I'd have a piss hard, and then I'd have to eat breakfast, and get on with the day. On Saturday morning Dad made us all pancakes, and then we'd all go shopping, or Dad would have me help him with chores. On Sunday we went to church. And if the date was on the weekday I had to rush to school the next morning. Somehow Dad's command to eliminate all arousal in the cold shower carried over into the next day. I was usually able to not think about things that made me hard, and I admired my self-control. And when I finally got home I could usually make myself go without the urge to rub one out, and then go to bed without taking care of myself. Pretty good self control for a boy who, before hearing Dad's lecture that night, always had to jack off every day when I got home, again when I hit the bed at night, and whenever else I could get the time in.
The problem with this is that the sexual urge would hit with a vengeance three or four days later, without warning, usually in algebra class, when the lesson was factoring polynomials. I had to beg to be excused to the bathroom, hope nobody noticed the erection in my pants, and rub one out as quickly as I could, usually making a big mess all over the toilet, and rushing back to the classroom, so I wouldn't miss too much of the lecture.
I was 18, still in high school, and still a virgin. I guess I was really shy around girls, and I never really dated. I sat next to a girl named Melanie in study hour. She was really friendly, so I finally got the courage to ask her out.
When I told some of the guys about it, I found out that she has the nickname, "Melanie blue balls." It seems that she has a reputation as a big tease. She has a very forward "come on" approach, and she rubs up against the boys and gets them very aroused, sometimes for hours, but in the end she never does anything for them, or lets them get off. It's like her game is to get boys aroused as all get-out, and just as soon as the boy is convinced he's getting somewhere with her, Melanie says "I think you'd better drive me home."
So I took Melanie out, and sure enough, she gave me the tease. She'd smile and coo at me seductively, talk suggestively, and even occasionally touch me on the hip or something. She made me keep thinking that this was the night I'd finally get laid. This went on for over three hours. But finally she said, "Take me home."
I was really hurting in the groin, and I had a puddle of pre-cum on my undies, some of which seeped through my jeans.
It was so bad that, when I got home, I even confessed to my Dad that I had a bad case of blue balls.
"The thing to do about that is to take a cold shower," he said. "Just make sure you stay in there long enough so that you don't feel turned on anymore. And when you think you've got it licked, stay under the cold water for another two minutes, I suggest you count to 120 slowly." Something about this sounded bogus, but there was something in Dad's voice that was authoritative, commanding. And I had the strange sense that I wanted to submit to Dad's orders, to obey them.
So I trotted off to the bathroom, got in the shower, and turned the cold water on full blast. Damn, that water's cold! Nonetheless, I stood under the water until I was freezing, and then an extra couple of minutes, counting to 120 slowly, to make sure there could be no arousal left in me.
I got out of the shower, teeth chattering and goose-bumpy, and dried off quickly. I ran back to my bedroom.
"Did the cold shower work?" My Old Man asked.
"Sure did." I felt terribly embarrassed being naked in front of Dad like this, realizing the shrinkage from the cold made my dick and balls look like a 10 year old's. He took a whole minute sizing up what the cold shower did to my anatomy.
"The best thing to do now is to just go to bed."
Still shivering, I put on my pajamas, and got under the covers and went to sleep.
Looking back on it, the obvious answer for blue balls is to go into your room and just rub one out. But staying under the cold shower like my Dad said did make me forget about the ache down there, and being aroused. Besides, he seemed to take a dim view of boys jacking off.
And for the next couple of months or so, I went out with Melanie, and it was the same routine. She'd get me all horned up for a couple of hours, I'd come home frustrated, and I'd jump in the cold shower. I'm sure the showers let Dad know that she really frustrated me sexually. But I was just dumb and naive enough to keep going out with the Queen of Orgasm Denial, and also for Dad's cold shower remedy. I know I went through the whole routine about 9, 10 times over the period I dated her.
You'd think doing this would make me wake up every morning with a raging hard-on. But my dates with Melanie were usually on a Friday or Saturday night. Whatever night it was, I'd usually get waked up by Dad the next morning, I'd have a piss hard, and then I'd have to eat breakfast, and get on with the day. On Saturday morning Dad made us all pancakes, and then we'd all go shopping, or Dad would have me help him with chores. On Sunday we went to church. And if the date was on the weekday I had to rush to school the next morning. Somehow Dad's command to eliminate all arousal in the cold shower carried over into the next day. I was usually able to not think about things that made me hard, and I admired my self-control. And when I finally got home I could usually make myself go without the urge to rub one out, and then go to bed without taking care of myself. Pretty good self control for a boy who, before hearing Dad's lecture that night, always had to jack off every day when I got home, again when I hit the bed at night, and whenever else I could get the time in.
The problem with this is that the sexual urge would hit with a vengeance three or four days later, without warning, usually in algebra class, when the lesson was factoring polynomials. I had to beg to be excused to the bathroom, hope nobody noticed the erection in my pants, and rub one out as quickly as I could, usually making a big mess all over the toilet, and rushing back to the classroom, so I wouldn't miss too much of the lecture.
