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My mother’s first husband passed away two years before I was born. Mom had a son from her former marriage, my half-brother Gary, whom I always adored and looked up to.Gary was always my hero and protector when we were kids, and could not have loved him more even if he had been my full sibling.This again was an appropriate abbreviation, because taking after my dad I was known as ‘pony-dick.’ Apparently, after I was born and handed to my mother, she took one look at my knob and said, “This is definitely my husband’s boy.”Even as a junior at high school my knob was larger than all of the senior boys.It was not that they were underprivileged in the dick department, but compared to my monstrosity, most guys fell short.As he returned he flung it at me and said, “Put this on and get into the spirit of things.You can be my assistant during this practice,” he concluded, with a playful smile. As usual, my dick began misbehaving with the spectacle of the virile guys before me.I had known for a few years that I was attracted to men, and had recently even had my first ‘real’ sexual encounter with Jeffery, our neighbour’s son.
Much as he tried to entice me thereafter, I was just not interested.If one Googled the term ‘bearish,’ I am sure you would find a picture of him.Sadly, due to my baseball and swimming regimen, I would never be able to try out for the wrestling squad.” he then inquired.“Fine, thank you, coach,” I replied.“So, do you also want to wrestle? I went on to explain that as much as I would like to, my schedule simply wouldn’t allow for it.“What a pity,” he answered.Then after a brief pause, he walked over to a shelf and retrieved a singlet.