“When I was 15 I would get a lot of pimples from jerking off. That’s how I know you are jerking off.”
That’s the gist of what my Dominican stepfather had said in his broken English as he made masturbatory hand gestures in his attempt to, I guess, shame me for touching myself in numerous states of curiosity.
I laughed thinking it was merely Latin rhetoric mixed with machismo bullshit. But when I stopped raddling the snake my pimples would clear. In my mind he was right and I blushed with fright knowing everyone knew I was doing it.
Luckily, I grew up.