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When I was a little girl, my grandfather (my mother’s father) would take me with him while he went grocery shopping for his wife. We would walk down a small road in Dombivili, past the teenage boys playing cricket, past Kamath uncle’s snacks store and uphill towards the flour mill. But first, we would go to the vegetable vendors where he would pick out…
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The euphoric sex-on-the-beach atmosphere was full throttle from the get-go.

By Brandon Baker ·

8/12/2013, 4:04 p.m.

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If your gay-boy libido didn’t kick into overdrive at PhillyGayCalendar’s Boys of Summer event on Saturday at Voyeur, you should probably see a doctor — pronto. Titillating twinks, beefy bears, macho muscle studs, a bevy of queens gawking from a distance — to be sure, there was no lack of diversity (or sexual chemistry) populating this year’s Main Event. And though the summer soiree didn’t heat up until shortly after 11 p.m. (probably because of Tabu’s Bearlesque at 10), the euphoric sex-on-the-beach atmosphere was full throttle from the get-go.
Promptly at 9 p.m., toned and tanned go-go boys took the stage in their undies to gyrate their hips around glowing, rainbow-colored hula hoops as chiseled men in their crotch-clutching swimsuits trickled into the venue. Prancing about all the while was MC-substitute drag diva Satine Harlow. (She was filling in for Goddess Isis, whose basement flooded earlier in the day — the basement where she keeps all her drag.) Natalia Kills took the stage around 1:30 a.m., after coming from Bearlesque where she watched and reportedly loved an all-bear’d-up version of her song, “ Problem .” Too cute!
But the gist of the night’s festivities boiled down to boys, boys and more boys – and that’s exactly what we captured while in attendance. See the man meat for yourself in the photos and video of Natalia Kills performing with nearly naked G Philly cover model Gunnar Montana below.
Satine Harlow and Boys of Summer Organizer Steve McCann.
G Philly summer-issue cover model Gunnar Montana (in pink undies) with Boys of Summer headliner Natalia Kills.
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Having never been a boy, I had no idea about all the weird shit boys do to get off. Even though I had a big brother, I wasn’t privy to the vast array of strange self-satisfying tools and tricks teenage boys have up their sleeves. That is, until I met my husband and he told me a hilarious story about why he loved climbing the pole at school.
“At first,” he explained, “I just climbed because I liked to see how fast I could get to the top. But one day when I climbed something weird happened. It felt really good. Like, so good I would make sure to climb that pole every morning and every lunch.”
Even as my own sons grew, I didn’t understand just how resourceful boys could be, until I questioned my then-12-year-old about why he had a giant box of condoms in his bedroom.
His hesitation should have been my first clue.
“Well, umm,” he said. “I use them to, uh, you know…”
“To what?” I asked. I had no idea what he was trying to say.
“Oh. Oh, well, OK,” was all I managed to say.
A week later, while out for drinks with my girlfriends, who also had teen boys, I asked if that was normal.
“I don’t know about condoms,” my friend Tammy said, “but I found out my son Charlie was using socks.”
“Socks?” I had never heard of boys sexualizing slippers.
“Yeah, socks. Your boys don’t do that?” Tammy asked. “Well, Charlie does. I swear I won’t even touch his laundry anymore. All it took was one time grabbing a sock that was hard as a rock and I was done. It was nasty!”
Learning about socks, and laughing my ass off watching the Bridesmaids scene where a mom describes cracking her son’s comforter, made me curious about what other means boys employ to get their (pun intended) socks off.
Naturally, I first turned to my husband and sons to learn more. I was in for a surprise with their answers.
Like machine gun fire, my eldest son listed his favorite masturbation props.
“Let’s see, there’s good old wadded-up toilet paper, towels, even shirts. Heck, I’ll use dirty laundry if it’s there. Whatever is within reach, really,” he shared. As he spoke, my younger son nodded his head emphatically.
“Anything else?” I asked. I was all business. Hey, who was I to judge? As a teen, I’d had an amorous moment or two with my favorite bottle of perfume, Love’s Baby Soft, which, if anyone remembers, was totally shaped like a dildo.
“OK, don’t laugh, but one time I put my penis in the vacuum hose,” my youngest said.
“While it was on?” I asked. I’d lost my deadpan expression the moment I picture my son losing his penis in a vacuuming accident.
“Yeah, but it was on low, don’t worry,” he reassured me. “It didn’t feel that good, so I only did it once.”
“Oh, what about paper towel rolls?” my oldest added. “And that time I used the cantaloupe?”
Even my husband was shocked at the cantaloupe revelation. Fruit. Really? I thought that was only a thing women in prison did.
“And the trash can,” my youngest said. Was nothing sacred?
By the end of our conversation, I had the idea that my sons, and probably all teenage boys, used anything and everything at their disposal to masturbate.
With my curiosity quelled, I had to wonder if my quest for knowledge was a worthy endeavor. Honestly, I’ll probably never look at a cantaloupe the same way again, but I am grateful I had this awkward, yet illuminating, discussion with my kids.
They felt confident enough to be real, knowing full well I would write this information and share it with the world. It may seem like too much for some parents, but talks like these let me know that my sons can truly be open with me about any subject, no matter how uncomfortable. Like, penis-in-a-vacuum uncomfortable. Ouch.
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