At the end of my first University year, my experience level had not advanced sexually, but my growth spurt had begun, along with some pimples. These little spoilers offset any lessening of my inferiority complex achieved by growing, eventually to a full six feet. The pimples did not last long, with the proper care and attention, so I entered my second year in reasonable spirits.
This year coincided with the craze of the “hambone” and streaking. The hambone consisted of taking off one’s clothes at parties, the hotel, the beach or elsewhere, to the encouragement of the audience shouting “get yer gear off”. Streaking was a group jog around the campus without clothes. It was a guys-only enterprise, but most girls our age provided part of the encouragement and appreciation. I was made for exactly this sort of activity, and became a vigorous practitioner. Academic success, sporting prowess, my new body and my excellence at this new fad, lifted my self-confidence, but by the time I finished Uni, I was still a virgin, and had not progressed any further in sexual accomplishment than Pat had allowed me.
A year at Teaching College followed. Discipline was applied almost as much as it had been at school. We could not permit behaviour of tomorrow’s teachers to sink to the low levels of deviates who practiced streaking, let alone hamboning. So even this pastime was now lost to me. Fortunately, a quite pleasant girl, call her Gwen, thought she recognised me from Uni, although we had never shared a class, and due to my escapades there, thought I might be interested in being the male stripper at an up-coming “hens'” night. Her best friend was to marry a couple of weeks before Christmas, and, as the guys were having a “bucks'” night for the groom, it was only fair that the girls reciprocate.
This on again, off again, event finally took place, after Gwen finally convinced her mother that the sky would not fall in if the girls had a bit of fun. But mother laid down the rules as soon as I arrived. Dance and strip to one recording, finish with back to audience, drop the undies, and definitely no full frontal. I slipped up a bit, dropping the undies a bit too early, forgetting there was a coda. Some of the audience, not to be denied a better view, had moved up along the side walls, and were rewarded with the verboten view, if only for twenty or so seconds. The rest of the audience had to wait only a little longer because I obviously had to turn around to collect my clothes and leave the room.
In the front room, I sat on the edge of the bed, disappointed that my performance had been truncated, and expecting a tirade from the mother.
I waited at a nearby milk bar, for the girls to pick me up in Alice’s car. She parked just outside the grandstand, and asked me to wait, while they went inside to see if the all-female party-goers was ready for a solitary male exhibitionist. On her return to the car, Gwen told me that they needed to “examine the merchandise” before a final commitment. I entered the room fully naked and erect. It was not a large room, but it was packed. Nobody was seated. The place erupted at my entry – shrieks, cheers, applause, laughter, and I guessed I had been accepted. Everyone was standing, in small tightly-packed clusters, obviously already somewhat inebriated. Gwen or Alice ushered me from group to group introducing me, and each group was highly amused and thankful for my presence. Other groups could not wait for me to get around, and sent out emissaries to collar me. My bottom was pinched as girls brushed past. Twice I was actually yanked by the cock, and dragged off to another small group. There had to be forty or so women, of all ages, in the room, and I am sure I got to every one of them.
It was then decided that I should make the official acknowledgements for individual and team performances for the year just completed. I had to stand on one of the benches that clung to the walls of the room, and read from a list, the names of those who were receiving awards, and present them. Quite some time had passed, and I was no longer erect. So it amused the audience to have me stay standing on the bench, and have my cock swing from side to side, as I jigged, swayed, jumped and danced to their commands.
The chorus then wanted me erect again. I was about to give myself a hand, but several audience hands were offered, and found their mark, in turns, without my objections. I was looking over their heads, and did not even see those assisting me. As I grew harder, the chorus called for a goal.
“Shoot, shoot, shoot” they called out, my assistants worked harder, and I quickly scored the goal, to tumultuous applause.
I was allowed down, and continued to be invited to groups for further light-hearted flirting. Eventually, after just over three hours, time was up, the facilities needed to be vacated, and I was escorted, still naked, by my newly acquired friends, back to Alice’s car, and driven, as I dressed, back to the railway station for my journey home.
I had a new vocation, if only I could continue to find audiences.
