Author Topic: 66 Hours to go  (Read 3768 times)

Offline outfront

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Aged 38 years now, I found this web page by chance today, happy it exists but sad that in my youth there was northing of this type of help available.

Like many my life has had it fair share of problem which all come back to this problem, "I have breasts" to say it or to write it feel weird.

The Spring of 1980, started me on my road, the first signs appeared, but as many other boy had seamed to have the same problem I left it. Most 13 years boy will have sore nipple and may have harded feel to them.

In my school the boy's would give each other a nipple crunch ( twisting of the nipples between their fingers) and boy did it hurt.

This minor problem can last a few month, and will go with the majorty, but as many of us in here know for us this is the start of a life long nightmare.

I still live by count downs to events which will give me problem. 66 Hours to go was the start of my Friday afternoon count down to Sport lessons on Monday morning.

When most school kid arrived home on Friday they looked forward to a weekend of play, all regret the return to school Monday.

For me I spent the weekend counting the minuets to Monday morning Sport lesson which for us was Two hours long, once finshed the count down was on to  Wednesday afternoon lesson luckly only and hour long.

The sickness in the stomac I had could double me over in the mornings, I tried to tell my Mum once but the words were lost in a panky sputter.

By the summer of 1980 I notice that this growing problem was here to stay longer than I wanted. The long summer break took my mind of my chest, but the start of the new term brought it home like a hammer to the head.

Monday morning gym class, a basket ball lesson, we were split into teams, and the word that came from the trainers mouth, sent me in to a COLD panic "Team A shirts, Team B Skins...... SKINS. I was on the B team, all the other boys striped off within second leaving me, as if a point of fronzen time, the Trainer scream you boy take of that top, I felt the world stare, I walk upto him, I wanted to tell him I could not, by now everyone was looking, first day in the new year with many a new face. He guessed something was wrong and told to hit the bench and another was sent on to game in my place.

This did not end here as we had to change back into our School uniforms and everyone had to shower. As the year went on I remain a loaner, the uniform of the school was tripical Slacks, shirt, Jumper and a Blazer which was only a personal choice, which I wore it "I was the only boy in the School with a Blazer".

One day one of the schools Sporty type (a Jock) left his kit at home, he was sent to the read book for the two hours. I managed to leave my kit on a number time back home, and spent these great two hours reading what ever, just happy I was far from the staring crowd.

On cross country running the first ones back were to play Basket ball, so I came in last 2 hours and 5 min to late to shower, another victory.

With the start of the new school year in 1981, the two hour sport lesson was only by choice, those who remained was for football or other sport qualification that they needed. The other choices were Musical and Bussiness studies, and another that I can not remember. The one hour sport class remained, so I still need ways to combat that.

I took Musical lesson to play the trumpet, which been tone deaf ended very quickly the treat of been sent back to the gym, left me to take the Bussiness Studies class, 24 girl and one boy with breasts, but at least it was peace.

I met my first girlfriend, and new problem started, by know I knew all  of the word slinging I could swicht off, but as for my new girlfriend, I had new worries. In the US they call it 1st base I think,  in England it is TOPS, The guys would ask her if she has got tops yet, and who is sucking whos breasts.

I notice the word T..s gets replace, with breast, for me the shorter word is somthing of a No no and still get to me, but I used it here to get a point across it is only a word but boy dose it cut.



................Will continue tomorrow as it is 1.30am in Spain, where I now live........................

« Last Edit: April 09, 2005, 02:31:12 PM by outfront »
I went the University of life the school of knowledge, abd the Kindergarden of hard knocks, but I am still here.

Offline Grandpa Bambu

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Yeah, I know exactly what you mean by counting down the hours to a sporting event at school. Thinking about going to Gym class use to get me all stressed out.   :-/

I too had to be a 'Skin' playing indoor soccer in grade 6. I noticed two girls staring at me and I knew why so I just tried to hide my moobs as best I could. Very embarrassing!  :-[

Yeah, it's odd that we can post pics of our moobs but cannot say the word   T I T S..... Hmmmmm.....  ::)

John.
« Last Edit: April 13, 2005, 11:46:27 AM by Bambu »
Surgery: February 16, 2005. - Toronto, Ontario Canada.
Surgeon: Dr. John Craig Fielding   M.D.   F.R.C.S. (C) (416.766.8890)
Pre-Op/Post-Op Pics

Offline tommy

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Thats a sad story. But one thing is that your teen years are older. And  even though they are wasted it gets easier once you get over i got a hot summer ahead and dont know what to do. After the next 3 days it supposed to get hot and im in a panic.
« Last Edit: April 13, 2005, 12:09:24 PM by tommy »

Offline ensiferum

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I'm counting the days (too early for counting the hours) to my surgery.  ;D

I hope you do the same (or have done the same since the story is going to continue apparently)...
Surgery on 11th of May. *gulp*

Offline headheldhigh01

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tengo quasi la igual edad que tu y conosco como todos aqui como es la historia.  bienvenido al sitio.  :)  

i usually just write t*t or similar for that myself.  
* a man is more than a body will ever tell
* if it screws up your life the same, is there really any such thing as "mild" gyne?


 

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