Chair

I have a relationship with the kitchen chairs.

When I was younger, I rubbed myself for the first time one afternoon on a flowered vinyl kitchen chair in our dining room to my first orgasm.

I was beginning to rub against everything with my erections at that point. I wasn't even 11. I pulled my pants down and lay cock down on the seat of the chair - I put my feet up on another chair, and faced downward, holding my torso up with my arms, as I rubbed against the seat cushion.

The chair was on the linoleum floor outside the kitchen. I needed lubrication against the vinyl, so I peed onto myself, then leaned onto the chair, peed some more, and slowly rubbed my erection hard against the frictive yet lubricative surface.

And it pressed against me, the way I had pressed against the sink in elementary school when I leaned in to take a drink, and felt profound nervous and twingling synapses rush to my groin in unexpected but deep and good chocolate ice cream ways.

I'd felt spontaneous tightenings of my testes, sometimes but not always tied to erections, but clearly based deep behind my shaft, teasing me to keep going.

I rocked back and forth, and kept going without thinking that there might be a climactic moment to this feeling, until there was, a release of splashy and squirting cum that I had never seen before or heard about. It felt so complete and draining, and aggressively centered, yet I was worried that I had somehow broken some vessel or valve, and the white liquid was an emission akin to blood, from some unknown organ.

And yet the feeling wasn't of pain but of orgasmic release.

I was beginning to understand. I wasn't hurt - I would not be confessing to any doctor yet.

Soon I would learn how to do it with my hand instead of rubbing against vinyl.