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I lived in a small town in Illinois, just outside Peoria, southwest of Chicago. I was about to enter high school. Seeing the boys in the showers in seventh and eighth grade made me pretty sure I was a homo. Back then there weren't any LGBTQ+ clubs or support. There wasn't even any GLAD or PFLAG or anything. Being gay was as bad a thing as there was. So it was horrendous to deal with. You felt alone and like a sick freak.
It was such a very different time.
Also, there was no cable and no internet. You watched the three or four stations you could get - if you were lucky. And if you were really lucky, a friend would get a porno mag from his older brother or someone, and that was all the porn you'd ever see. Even then, it was almost totally all women. Seeing a guy in a magazine was pretty rare. When I finally did see one, I'd already seen naked guys in the gym showers, but seeing a hard dick in that magazine, being sucked, stroked, being stuck into that pussy, and shooting all that jizz, I actually shot off in my shorts. Dave, Mitch, Kyle, Randall, and Vince had no idea, I hoped. They didn't seem to notice, anyway. I kept pretending I was still interested in the magazine, but all I was really interested in was getting out of there and cleaning up. And, of course, hiding how much of a fag I was.
It was hard.
I couldn't talk to my friends about it at all. We sometimes talked sex stuff, but it was mostly lies and bragging about things. Usual stuff, I guess.
The summer of 1980 I was almost fifteen and about to start high school.
Aunt Barb was mom's sister. Her and Uncle Tony had a daughter, Tara, who was nine, and a son, Brent, who was eighteen. Brent had just graduated high school and was about to go off to college. My parents were all hyped up that I should spend some time with him before he left, saying how I might not get to see him again for a very long time.
I had grown up with Brent as my only older cousin. We saw each other several times a year: over summer vacation, for Thanksgiving and/or Christmas, over Easter break, those kinds of times when family gets together. Some summers he had come spent a couple weeks at my place, some summers I had gone and spent a couple weeks at his place. Both his and my family lived outside the small towns where we lived. Our parents were all very into country and rural living, and not living in cities. We had small gardens, and us kids were taught to handle and shoot guns, use bows, and hunting and fishing. Not to mention camping and hiking. We weren't raised to be particularly shy with each other, so we went to bed in our underwear. We always saw each other undressing and in just our tighty-whities at night. If it was warm or hot, we'd often play video games late at night in just our underwear. I saw his boner in his underwear before I had pubes, and he'd seen my boner as well once I started getting them.
Over last Easter break, Brent and his family had come to stay at my place for the weekend. It was usual for us to talk sex stuff. Brent had told me about his first time a couple years ago, and about some of the times since. And he'd told me about what he knew about girls, and doing it. That Easter break, we actually compared dicks! He asked if mine was 'getting full sized yet,' and I said it was, and he asked to see. I said I would if he showed his. So we stood up, unzipped, and whipped them out. We got them hard and compared. His was way longer and thicker than mine, just about the size of that guy in that magazine. It was the hottest, sexiest thing I had ever done so far! I wanted to do way more, but I had no idea how to make anything happen, and way to shy about it to even seriously think about it. So we compared, then put them away, and kept talking about sex stuff until we fell asleep. I woke up having to use the john, with a major, throbbing, aching boner, and had to whack one out before I could even go pee. It was the best orgasm ever, and I made the most cum I had ever before. I almost groaned out loud and my knees almost folded up as I came all over the underside of the toilet lid. It was fucking awesome!
So this summer, we went to stay a couple weeks as our vacation this year. I was looking forward to it a lot.
The first few days were mostly hanging out with Brent and his buddies through the week when they weren't working of their family farms or at their jobs. I didn't see any drugs or beer, and they only rarely talked about either one, and only about how they would get stoned and buzzed on the weekends. They were mostly clean-cut country kids like Brent. There were stoner kids and punk kids and preppy kids around the small town too, but they weren't hang-out friends with Brent and his country/farmer friends.
Every night, when we'd get ready for bed, we'd take off everything but our tighty-whities and lay down. We'd talk and laugh and even play the Atari in our underwear. I have to admit, I loved that. I loved seeing his body. He was lean and strong and tanned from helping around the house and tending the garden and stuff. And he really filled out those white briefs very well. I'd get like half-hard every time we got out of our jeans.
Every night when I'd wake up and go use the john, I'd whack one out while imagining him naked and hard and doing stuff. Every night.
All week long, Brent made a point with his buds that he couldn't have any company over the weekend. So they had plans for the next week set, and plans among themselves for the weekend to camp at the lake with some beers. A couple were going to smoke some weed too, but a couple didn't smoke it, but were okay with the ones that did. I always thought if someone didn't smoke pot they didn't hang out with people who did. I learned a lot that summer, I can tell you.
On Friday night, our parents went into the city for the weekend, leaving me with Brent and Tara. My mom and dad had grown up in that county and still knew a lot of folks there, and a bunch of them were meeting up for the weekend in the city, as it was twenty years since they had graduated high school together. They were going to stay at a hotel and come home sometime Sunday.
Now I knew Brent was a bit different the last couple of years. He'd told me a year or more ago how he smoked some pot with some friends sometimes, and got drunk sometimes, and messed around like that. He was still pretty clean-cut, though. No big stoner dude, or a big partier, he just messed around with some pot and beer. He said he'd tried coke, but it made him too jittery, and none of his friends were into it. The one who did get into coke also changed to hanging out with the stoner/partier kids instead.
So, that Friday night, Brent and I were playing his Atari, and it was late enough that his sister had passed out, when he got a joint from his dresser. He sat down next to me on the floor at the foot of his bed and looked at me.
"You won't tell, will you?"
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