When I was a kid there was a garage behind the house next door. The neighbor’s son was a year older than me and when we were in our early teens we used to hang out in there, smoking cigarettes and flipping through girly magazines. Other than for the dartboard and the chin-up bar, there wasn’t much else to do in there. Carlos (the neighbor boy) kept a stack of Penthouses underneath the couch, and we’d flip through them getting increasingly horny (usually ending in a joint fapping session).
Then, all of a sudden, Carlos didn’t live there anymore. He’d moved town to be with his dad, having decided his mum wasn’t right for him. With my fapping partner gone, I took to sneaking into the garage after school by myself, and relieving myself to the increasingly sticky stroke-mags that remained beneath the couch. Annette, Carlos’s mother, usually got home about six o’clock, so I always knew to be out of there well before then.
However, one day I was going for it when I heard the car come up the driveway. I freaked so badly I almost pulled my cock off. There were two car spaces, and one of them was always taken. Moving faster than I think I’ve ever moved since, I dived, completely butt-naked, beneath the available car. I heard the tires, engine and handbrake of Annette pulling in beside me, and I tried not to breathe.
She got out, moving around with the care-free bliss of one who doesn’t know she’s not alone. I could see her shoes clopping around about a foot from my face.
Please go inside, I begged. Go inside and let me finish.
Nearly being caught had made me even hornier. I swear it was like being shocked with erotic electricity.
I heard her feet disappear down the drive and the backdoor open and close. I let out a sigh of relief. I’d almost slid back out from beneath the car when I heard the backdoor open again and her ascending footsteps. Then she moved the garage doors over so that the car I was hiding beneath was exposed to the street. There was a father and son down there playing catch on the road. I prayed neither would look up and see me hidden there.
Annette came up on the driver-side of my umbrageous car. I wanted to scream: Fuck off! I’m trying to wank! Then I heard her retrieve keys from her handbag and I started to freak: SHE’S USING THIS CAR! SHE’S ABOUT TO DRIVE SOMEWHERE IN THIS CAR!
What the hell was I going to do? I considered sliding across and hiding beneath her other car but I took too long considering it. Annette was already in “my” car and turning the ignition. She began to reverse down the drive and seconds later I was exposed, naked, and my whole body filled with hot red shame. But Annette wasn’t looking at me; she had her head craned sideways so she could see where she was reversing.
I was frozen, nakedly clinging to the concrete floor. When she turned her head she slammed on the brakes and the boy playing catch looked towards the unexpected halt. In doing so, he saw me. He pointed and laughed. When I looked up Annette’s face was emblazoned in the windscreen, her mouth agape and the boy and man behind her car watching in total confusion.
Covering myself, I ran. Screw my clothes. I ran across the backyard and up across the fence and into my own house, where my mum called out to me confusedly, as butt-naked I ran through the house and straight into my room.
That one took a bit of explaining.
I suppose it was normal for teenagers to get in icky situations because of their desire to masturbate, and having nowhere private to do it. I didn’t get in too much trouble.
But as I got older I realized masturbation was something that made the real world disappear. The shame I felt as Annette gaped at me through the windscreen was a shame I began to feel in everyday life. The only way it would leave was by looking at more porn and jerking off even harder.
But hey, it’s good for a laugh, right?