Despite all the quick-learning I had to do to get "caught up" from my sheltered up-bringing, I didn't really care that I had almost no knowledge of popular music or movies, or that I didn't know who Kurt Cobain was. The thing that set me back the most was that, other than a darkened hallway kiss, I had no experience with the physical side of relationships. Had I been granted a little more freedom and knowledge before being set loose, I would have saved myself a lot of embarrassment.
I didn't set out to, but by the end of my first semester of college, I had learned a lot about all that I had been missing in high school. I made out with a girl for the first time, grabbed my first boob, and got my first handjob and blowjob. I kissed with tongue, learned cunnilingus, and lost my virginity. Throughout the rest of that year I learned that while physical intimacy is an important facet to a relationship, one needs to have a solid emotional relationship, too. I learned that perhaps a little too late, but my scars are good reminders of lessons learned.
The following fall semester I started dating the girl who would become The Boss. She told me that she was still a virgin and wanted to stay that way until she was married. There was no religious motive, just her own personal declaration. I was fine with that, and on my honor we were not intimate until we got married 18 months later. When the spring semester ended, we both moved home, two hours apart. I would drive to her parents house as often as I could. Up to this point, there was nothing more than light make-out sessions, despite what my parents might have thought. All of that changed that summer we were apart, and we began to do Other Things. Part of that, combined with my lack of knowledge as a direct result of my sheltered life, is what led to me going to the ER late one night.
The first night I stayed over at The Boss' house, we fooled around as quietly as we could. Things got pretty hot and heavy, but before we reached The Point Of No Return we kissed goodnight and went to bed. I had a slight pain in my groin, but didn't think much of it. I slept fitfully that night because of it. The pain was still present in the morning, and somehow seemed to have worsened. The pain was so severe by that afternoon that I decided that I had to go home. Midway home I decided that I couldn't bear the pain anymore. I drove to the local Emergency Room and checked myself in.
I didn't have to wait too long before a doctor came in to see me. I gave him the full story, about how I had just moved back home from college, had lifted heavy boxes the previous day, not sure what might be causing the pain, etc. The doctor snapped on a latex-free glove and told me to drop my pants. Before I knew exactly what was happening, the doctor was feeling around Down There with his cold hands.
He poked and prodded, and told me to turn my head and cough. There was some more general shifting of my Man Parts, and I was beginning to think I should have asked him to take me to dinner first. I'm not normally this easy, I'd say. Will you still be here in the morning? I was doing my best to remain distracted from the fact that another man was fiddling with my junk when the doctor stood up and removed his glove.
"Well, I don't think you have a hernia. That was my initial thought, given your recent activities. There does seem to be some swelling in your testicles, but nothing that I am overly concerned about," the doctor said, washing his hands. "The swelling should go down on its own, but if it doesn't go away within the next 12 hours, you might need to help it along yourself."
Still trying to erase the memory of another man's hands on Big Willie and The Twins, I looked at him blankly. "I guess I don't understand what you mean," I said.
The doctor shuffled his feet and looked over his shoulder. "May I speak to you frankly?"
"Son, you have blue-balls. It's a build-up of fluids and pressure from over-stimulation and lack of orgasm."
"Oh." I looked down at the floor, and hurriedly finished zipping up my pants.
"It's a perfectly normal thing to happen, and it can be considerably painful," the doctor continued, making notes on my chart. "Like I said, things should improve gradually, but you would benefit from helping it along yourself. Do you understand what I mean?"
"I do," I said, still staring down. My belt had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room. "But, doctor? I'm living at my parents house for the summer, and helping it along myself isn't exactly... possible. The Christian walls are thin, if you know what I mean."
The doctor looked at me for a moment, his eyes sympathetic. "Right. Yes, of course. I'll get you something for the pain."
I left the ER shortly after, slightly hunched over from the pain and feeling used and slightly dirty. Also in my possession was two very important things: a handful of Vicodin and the priceless knowledge that too much dry humping can lead to some serious pain.