Impulse Control

05 Oct

I was just sitting here going through the apps on my iPad – uh, that would be my new iPad that had to be replaced yesterday – and a thought just popped into my head:  “This is the kind of day that used to get you into all kinds of “trouble” back in the day when it came to having sex with guys…

I didn’t even bother to ask myself where the thought came from but I did find myself agreeing with it… then again, how could I not agree with it since it was obviously true?  Today, I tell people that I get bored rather easily but back then?  It didn’t take but a good, long minute for me to be bored and looking for something – anything – to do and, as you can imagine where this is going, when hanging out with the fellas, being bored – or having few options on the things to do list – all roads led to sex, from being “slick” about it and someone suggesting a game of “Doctor” or someone just coming right out and asking, “Who wants to do it?”

It couldn’t be said that I opposed any of this, just like it couldn’t be said that, more often than not, I would be the one putting the suggestion on the table – provided that someone else didn’t beat me to it.  I thought about this and while I let the images float around on the HDTV in my head – watching myself sucking dick and/or being sucked, fucking and/or being fucked and all with great glee and gusto – I wondered just for a moment if my eagerness to do it was because of poor impulse control, you know, being in a particular moment when you know that you shouldn’t do a thing – but you do it anyway and while the probably consequences of your soon-to-be actions are bombarding your active thoughts.

Oh, to be sure – I was damned impulsive when I was younger – it was the reason why I wound up taking judo so that not only would I learn how to fight but I’d learn some much-needed self-discipline and it worked… except when it came to this; saying “no” to getting laid just didn’t seem like a good thing to do and the greater the chance of getting caught in the act, the better the idea seemed to be.  I can remember many days like today – the air a lot more cool and crisp than when summer was raging; grown-ups in the next room playing pinochle or bid whist, tonk or pitty-pat – while in the next room, some highly illicit and taboo sex was going on.  There was the thrill of it before any sex started up; we all knew that the grown-ups would be deep into whatever game they were playing and not paying much attention to us… but, at some point, one of them would notice that we were too quiet and someone would say, “Hey, go see what those damned kids are doing!”

Sometimes, we’d wait until someone did just that, knowing that when they peeked in, we’d be playing Go Fish or War, maybe some Monopoly or Life – and they’d go away, secure in the knowledge that we were behaving ourselves as expected.  Then the clothes would come off, dicks already hard and erect and ready to be put to use and, aw, man, it was always such a rush to be lying on my stomach, a hard dick thrusting into my butt – and feeling that special glee that comes along with knowing you’re doing something the grown-ups would surely kick your ass for… and they were in the next room, oblivious to it all.  But I wondered if poor impulse control played into this before the fact, like, we would decide to go ahead and do this even though the very high risk of getting caught was brought up.  Honestly, I’m pretty sure a lack of impulse control, coupled with the thrill of that whole sex thing we weren’t supposed to know about, played into things a great deal.  The adult that’s writing this can easily say that it was a stupid and very dangerous thing to do since I remember the terrible beatings some kids got when they got caught having sex… but at the time?  It was always a good idea and to hell with the risks.

I can remember a few of these particular moments very well; I can remember doing my level best not to bust out laughing when, one time, I was happily fucking my friend in the ass and a grown-up asked through the closed door, “You kids okay in there?” and my answer of, “Yes, sir – we’re just fine, thank you!”  Oh, it was so hard to control the giggles that would threaten to give us away!  Let’s see… I’ve got my dick in his ass, I’m happy, he’s happy, and I’m gonna shoot my stuff in his butt – do you think we’re okay in here?

Now, a few times, we almost got busted; it was just sheer luck that right after we finished having sex with each other and had gotten our clothes back on, a grown-up would barge into the room and ask, “What are you kids doing in here?” to which we’d all innocently reply, “Nothing!”  This one time, I was pretty sure we were going to get our asses kicked because the adult barged in, asked the expected question… but then stood there for a moment after our answer, sniffing as if he smelled something funny.  It was the moment that brought to my attention that sex has a certain smell and one that tends to linger for a while; the adult I am today knows this for a fact, just like I know that you can smell it… right up until your nose/brain edits it out so as far as you know, nah, it doesn’t smell like someone’s been fucking in here.

Of course, this observation was shared so that we all were now aware of it… but it didn’t stop us, not even that one time when we got checked-up on and the adult asked, “Have you kids been in here fucking?”  Of course, we all put on our best innocent and confused looks to convey that we had no idea what this crazy adult was talking about and, on the real, I was surprised we didn’t get our asses kicked that particular day because, yep, your nose will edit out the musky scent of sex… but it’ll also cancel out the editing after a while and, whew, having sex could be pretty damned smelly!

Yes, in most of these situations, when the proposition was put out there, some of us would say no to it, choosing to err on the side of caution and wisely choosing to go back to doing nothing… and being bored our of our gourds.  It would seem that when this happened, you could always feel the sexual tension in the room, just pressing down on everyone there with its great and powerful sense of urgency… and then it would be on, like a switch was flipped in everyone there.  Dicks would come out, pussies would be exposed (if girls were in the room) and it wouldn’t take long for the room to get pretty funky with the musk of sex in progress.  Hell, I can remember a few times when someone would say, “We shouldn’t be doing this!” and someone would ask, “Do you want to stop?”

And the answer would always be, “No – keep going; this feels really good!”

Was it poor impulse control… or just us not being able to avoid the inevitable?

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Posted by on 5 October 2014 in Life, Living and Loving


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