Tiki Trouble

“Seventy dollars,” I yelled out and waved my bidding paddle.

“I’m bid 70,” the auctioneer responded. “Do I hear 75?”

“Seventy-five,” I yelled again and the entire room full of people erupted into laughter.

“Seventy-five is bid from the gentleman who just bid 70. Do I hear 80, sir?” I finally realized what I’d done and I sank down in my chair embarrassed and humiliated. That just prompted more laughter from the other bidders. There were no further bids and I think it was just to see me squirm some more. “Sold to the anxious gentleman for 75 dollars,” the auctioneer finally announced. He slammed down the gavel. I got up and made my way to the cashier’s cage to pay for my purchase accompanied by more laughter and even scattered applause. To my immense relief I was quickly forgotten as the bidding started for the next item.

I didn’t even know what I’d purchased. It was a local estate auction for this old woman who had died recently and I’d arrived late. The inspection period was over. I was bidding blind. The catalog said it was an art object but the bidding was very slow on this one item so I thought I might have a chance at it. This was my very first auction as you might have guessed. I had a hundred dollars on me and felt sure I’d win a bid or two if I just kept bidding. Well, I was outbid throughout the auction and I almost got discouraged until this one item was offered for bid.

When I picked up my purchase I opened the box it came in. I burst out in laughter when I discovered what was inside. It was someone’s holiday souvenir. The original owner probably paid five bucks for it and overpaid at that price. I’d seen similar but better made items in gag shops. It was a cheap looking statuette of some god, probably Polynesian. The god was represented by a naked man squatting on his haunches with a huge prick sticking straight up and reaching almost to his chin. The little man didn’t look too happy even with the good fortune of being well-endowed. He was wearing a big giant frown. The overall height of the statuette was nine inches. I wondered how an old woman had come into possession of such an object; probably a joke gift from a friend or relative.

Well, I decided, this would be a lesson for me. I just wasn’t cut out to find lost or neglected treasures which I could buy cheap and sell for a nice profit which was why I was at the auction in the first place. I had just graduated from high school and didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t think I was college material and at the same time I didn’t want to join the army or go out job hunting just yet. I figured I had the entire summer ahead of me before my parents started bugging me about my plans or about paying rent. I took the object to my bedroom when I got home and placed it on top of my dresser.

The rest of the day was uneventful and the next morning I woke up bright and early with my usual morning piss hard-on. At least I thought it was usual. After pissing it remained poker stiff and refused to go down. I jumped back into bed and figured to have a quick jerk-off session. Well, I stroked for the next five minutes…and then for five more minutes…and then for five minutes after that. I just couldn’t get off. I was in a sweat and beginning to panic. This had never happened before. Two or three minutes usually did it for me. I hate to admit it but at 18 I was still a virgin.

I lay back gasping and out of breath. I looked at my red abused prick to seek guidance but all one-eyed Jack did was stare back at me accusingly as if what was happening was my fault. Well, perhaps it was but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I’d done wrong. Suddenly I heard a voice inside my head say, “You will have your release…but only in the proper manner.”

I gave a little shiver. Now I was hearing a strange voice in my head. Was I losing my mind? I jumped out of bed and into the shower…a cold shower. I dressed in loose clothing to hide my stiffy, got some breakfast and plopped in front of TV to watch ESPN. I’d been sitting there for about 20 minutes when my mother walked in. “What the heck is that thing doing in your room?” she demanded.

“What thing?”

“That thing…that obscene statuette is what I’m talking about. I can’t believe you brought that thing into this house.”

“It’s in my room, Mom.”

“I don’t care. I have to go in there occasionally and I don’t want to have to look at it.”

“Okay,” I said. “Where do you want me to put it?” There wasn’t any sense arguing with her. I wasn’t about to bitch about not having any privacy because she would have bitched about me not doing my own laundry and keeping my room clean. I love my mom dearly but she can be a pain in the butt.

“The trash can outside is an appropriate place for it,” Mom replied.

I shrugged my shoulders and hurried into my room. I’d gotten halfway interested in the poker tournament that was on and the only other place for my purchase was a storage box I kept in the garage. Going out there would have meant missing some of the poker action so I stuck it in the bottom drawer of my dresser. That was just a junk drawer and she’d never have any reason to go in there. I’d move Dick (that’s what I decided to call him) out to the garage later.

I went back to watching the tube. As long as I didn’t move I could forget about my constant erection for a while and concentrate on something else. I did wonder if I’d have to wind up going to the doctor for treatment if my erection still refused to go down. I never thought I’d consider that a problem.

I got bored with the TV after a while. Also, it didn’t distract me from the state of my prick any more. I decided to return to my room for another jack-off session. When I opened my bedroom door I found my mom sitting on my bed and looking at Dick sitting on the dresser. “I could have sworn I put him out of sight, Mom.” Perhaps I was mistaken. “I’ll get rid of him now,” I added.

“Oh, no,” Mom said. “Please don’t bother.