Corey's Struggle
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Chapter 1 -- He Couldn't Control It
Corey had made a major tactical error: He'd forgotten to bring his towel with him into the sauna.
At 18, he was a freshman at his state university on a wrestling scholarship. It was his dream come true, because he was the first in his family to go to college.
His dad was a car mechanic who had come to America from Poland as a young man in the early 90s, shortly after the Soviet Union collapsed and Eastern Europe opened up. He was a smart guy who had never had the chance to get an education, but worked hard to give his son the opportunity, and now it was paying off. His dad was so proud of him that his son was going to make something of himself. And he was twice as proud that Corey was able to pay for more than half the cost of college as a wrestler.
Unfortunately, Corey was also wrestling with a problem that his dad knew nothing about: his secret longing for other guys.
He'd fought it all through high school. When his friends started dating, Corey pretended that he was way too busy for all that by burying himself in homework, running, swimming, and working out. Then, in 10th grade, his gym teacher pulled him aside and asked him if he was interested in joining the wrestling team. Corey tried out and not only made the team but excelled in the sport, even against other boys who had been wrestling for years.
He sometimes wondered later on if fighting and suppressing all of those natural urges he was having, to make contact with another guy, had somehow helped him become a better wrestler. He didn't want to let down his father, who was so proud of him, and he didn't want to admit that these feelings were becoming more and more real every day.
In his teens, he would go days, weeks, or even months trying not to give in to his urges. As a Catholic, he knew he shouldn't touch himself in that way, and he really shouldn't allow himself to think about the kind of fantasies that always accompanied masturbation. One priest in particular, Father Derrick -- everybody called him Father D -- was really frank with Corey about his own struggles in this arena. He was only ten years older than Corey, and a cool guy that everyone in the parish looked up to. Corey didn't tell him about his attraction to other guys, but after a meeting him a few times in his office, started to confide in him that he sometimes masturbated, even though he tried not to.
Father D was really cool about it, and without naming names let Corey know that he was far from alone in his school. At the same time, he said, even though all men struggled with this particular temptation, it was for us to bear this cross until we were old enough to get married.
Corey had somehow found the courage to ask, "Is this something you struggle with, too?"
Father D said simply, "I said all men struggle with it."
"But as a priest," Corey pursued, "You're not going to get married, right?"
"That's right," he said, "So that's one of my crosses to bear."
Corey asked, "Does it start to get easy after a while?"
"I can't say it ever gets easy," Father Derrick answered, "But it does get easier. Especially when you pray for strength from the Holy Spirit."
Since then, Corey had prayed as hard as he knew how to help him not give in to the temptations in his life. The trouble was more of the flesh than the spirit. More than most guys his age, Corey was plagued with uncontrollable erections that more often than not happened at the worst possible times.
Sitting in class was bad enough. Whenever he got an erection at his desk, he prayed that the teacher wouldn't call on him to go to the board, because he knew what could happen. Once, one of his classmates, Brendan, appeared to have a little tent in his dress pants in a class picture. If you looked closely, you could see that it might well have been more of an unfortunate crease or shadow rather than the outline of an erection.
Even so, the other guys in school hounded him unmercifully for weeks, and a few of them called him Boner Brendan until graduation. Brendan pretended not to care, but Corey could see in his eyes and reddening face how humiliated he felt every time this incident was pointed out. One of the stalls in the second-floor boys' room even included an explicit drawing of Boner Brendan with a massive spooging hard-on and the caption, "I couldn't control it!"
Once, after one of these incidents, Corey happened to go to that bathroom, and recognized Brendan's shoes in the next stall over, the one with the drawing. And from the other side of the wall, he was sure he could hear muffled crying and sniffling that lasted the whole time Corey was in the bathroom. So he knew that no matter what kind of front Brendan was putting on in public, his own private shame about the nickname was definitely getting to him.
So Corey knew all too well what was expected of a boy and what the consequences could be otherwise. But for Corey, suppressing his erections or making them go down took almost a superhuman effort.
When he was 11 or 12, Corey remembered getting little boners that went down relatively easily by themselves. Then he hit puberty at 13, and suddenly the physical and emotional longing started to overwhelm him. It wasn't just that his penis was engorged and felt good. Whenever he got an erection, Corey could feel an ache from his stomach all the way to deep in his balls that was begging for release. His heart would beat uncontrollably as he would desperately try not to compound the problem by thinking about his handsome, athletic friends from school, the wrestling team, or an opposing team nearby. Most of them were good guys who liked him. And a few, he could have imagined being boyfriends with -- in another world, that is.
By the time he was 14, the feelings were so constant that Corey could barely study. That's when he started giving in to the temptation to masturbate, if only to relieve himself enough that he could do his homework instead of just sit in front of a book unable to read it because the feeling in his body and longing in his heart made concentration on anything else impossible.
Some nights, Corey would have wet dreams that he would remember fondly, in which he finally got to touch another guy and be touched in the way he wished were possible in the real world. Maybe that was the Holy Spirit's way of helping to relieve the burden? In any case, he never told Father D or anyone else about them, and conscientiously cleaned up the messes he made whenever they happened so he wouldn't be discovered.
Unfortunately, sometimes his body would go for weeks without producing a nocturnal emission. During these times, Corey would literally fall asleep at night and wake up in the morning with a raging boner that would take an hour to fully subside. He'd have to set his alarm clock half an hour earlier just to cope with it, or else be forced to relieve himself through masturbation, which always made him feel guilty for days afterwards.
One time in 10th grade, Corey fell asleep during a boring class, and actually had a wet dream in his pants. He'd only been asleep a minute or two, but in that time had a dream that he would never forget.
To be continued...
Thanks for reading! If any of this story speaks to you, I'd love to hear from you at judestjude2357@gmail.com. I promise to do my best to answer, especially if you're feeling alone with no one to talk to about this kind of stuff. Thanks again, TJ