Exhibition

So, I've got this weird habit. OK, I've got a lot of weird habits, but this one in particular is a problem because it isn't P, M, or O. So I can be PMO-free, but still obsessing over this other thing. Which makes no sense to me - at least the P addiction is understandable, because I keep reinforcing it with M & O. But I can't recall ever having an exhibition-related O. So why do I keep wanting to do it so much?

It started about 10 years ago, while I was on probation (long story, but basically I downloaded a selfie video made by someone slightly underage). I had pages of probation conditions, and most of them were ridiculously inappropriate given my actual offense. For example, I couldn't have candy in my home, for fear I might use it to lure young children in. The probation officers only cared about covering their own asses, so nobody was going to take a risk by relaxing the rules if they didn't have to.
At the same time, I was incredibly isolated. Not only was I unemployed, but the types of social interactions I could have were heavily restricted. I lived in a group home where every other resident had significant cognitive impairment; I was only there because they would take me, in spite of my being just out of prison and on the SO registry (sex offender, not significant other).
After all the times I'd had to go to court and have my charges read in front of a couple hundred random strangers, I felt like my capacity for embarrassment was just burned out. Plus, because of a variety of life experiences that culminated with getting the pariah status of being an RSO, I had subconsciously accepted that I wasn't going to have any positive interactions with other people, so whatever they thought of me just didn't matter.
Not saying any of these things caused my behavior, they just made it easier.

I had read a lot in prison, including a novel called Choke, by Chuck Palahniuk - also where I first heard about sex addict support groups, incidentally. In the book, the protagonist read a pamphlet about sex addiction that had a bullet list of behaviors you might have done, including taking the mesh out of swimming trunks so that the outline of your genitals would be visible. And the protagonist was like, well, I never did that before, but thanks for the idea. Which is where I got the idea.

I started going out in public wearing light-colored sweatpants with either no underwear, or just pulling it through the fly hole. I discovered an ideal state of arousal - fully erect was too obvious, but my ancestors came from cold climates (ie I'm a Grower, not a Shower), so my default state is really small and would barely be noticed even if I had no pants at all. Therefore I had to maintain a constant state of semi-arousal in order to get the effect I wanted, which was just a hint of ridge showing. It was perfect, because little kids would never notice, but anyone who'd seen a penis in real life would spot it instantly if they just dropped their gaze for a second. This actually took a remarkable amount of mental discipline - if only I'd put that towards something useful!

The other skill I mastered was maintaining a completely blank expression, even while making eye-contact. The typical reaction for women was a glance down, then a quick glance at my face, to see if I looked like I knew what I was doing. I wasn't going for shock, or fear, and definitely not arousal; it was their look of puzzlement that got me off. I knew that from the little bit of visual information I'd provided (that unmistakable crescent-shaped ridge), they would unconsciously generate a mental image of my penis that would be almost as accurate as if I was wearing nothing. But they wouldn't know whether or not they'd just been the victim of a pervert, or just seen some clueless idiot. Of course, if they looked at it too long then I'd get fully aroused, which would completely ruin the effect.
The reaction from men was fun, too - they'd glance down at me, and then immediately look at their own crotch, because maybe that's something that happens to everyone and they just hadn't realized it before.

The best part about this form of acting out was that technically, I wasn't violating my conditions of probation. I was definitely violating the spirit, but not the letter. And it was the letter that was being enforced; hence the thing about no candy.
Also, it's one of the areas where the idea of following the Golden Rule completely breaks down; I love seeing other people's wardrobes malfunction, regardless of gender. This is true for most of my bad habits, at least the ones involving other people; even though I know intellectually that it's not considered socially acceptable, I feel like I'd be delighted if someone did that to me.

Anyway, all that was years ago. I'm off probation now (another long story), and my invulnerability to shame wore off as I started developing social connections. But I still think about that habit. A lot. Whenever I'm buying new pants, the first question I ask myself is whether or not people would be able to see my penis through them, assuming I wanted them to. And I'm uncomfortable unless I'm poking through the fly of my underwear, even when I'm wearing completely opaque pants and no one else is around.
Also, sometimes I go swimming in a suit with no mesh.

So, that's my weird habit. Sorry it went a little long, but thanks for reading this far.

 

Technically a fetish involves specific objects that are not part of the normal sexual response, so you can't have a penis fetish, especially about your own. But the way the word is generally used on these forums, yes, I guess it would be a fetish. Or a paraphilia. Or just a weird habit.

 

That's a good point. It tends to be mostly a summertime thing, although I have actually worried about frostbite a couple of times.