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  Dillon's
Posted by: WMASG - 11-16-2025, 10:59 AM - Replies (1)

   


My first time was just after I started high school, when I was fourteen.
I grew up and lived my whole life so far in the same house. We live north of Chicago, almost in Wisconsin, in a small group of towns all named for the little lake they sit around. We're not far from Fox Lake at all, so if you know the area, you know it's pretty much small towns with farms and forests around them and the lakes.
I lived north of the high school, the trailway, and the lake. Most of my friends lived around the same area of course. So we all knew the area real well before we went to the high school. The rich kids lived south of the trailway, between the lake shore to the east and the high school to the west. The poorer kids lived south of the trailway, including the trailer park, on the west side of the high school opposite from the lake and the rich kids. There wasn't much south of the high school except the middle school, old downtown, and a bunch of middle-class houses of kids I only knew from middle school up. So it was pretty clear who your friends were by where you lived.
In sixth grade I kind of wondered why I wasn't as hyped up about the girls getting boobs as my friends were. I figured I'd get interested later. The odd thing was that I was ahead of most of my friends as far as puberty went. I had already started getting tall and my voice was sort of cracking, and my privates were really getting different. Tracy was the only friend of mine that was even more advanced than I was, and he even had some pubes he showed me and Mark one sleep-over during the summer before seventh grade.
That night was burned in my head for weeks. Months. I can still remember the moment Tracy pulled down his blue briefs, just low enough to show off the fuzzy hairs above his prick, and just barely showing the root of his prick. It looked fatter than mine for sure. I was jealous of his fuzzy, dark-brown hairs. There weren't many, and they didn't cover much area, but they were more than I or any of our friends had.
I barely had a dozen little hairs poking out around the base of my dick at that time. There were maybe another dozen or so on my sack. But they were pubes, and I was really proud of them. So I showed them to Tracy and Mark.
That was the most I did until that day in September just after high school started.
We played a lot of soccer. We loved it. Some guys like baseball or basketball or football, but Tracy, Mark, and me, and some of the other guys in our class were soccer nuts. We played all the time. I loved soccer with a passion.
Tracy was going nuts for the girls. He had boners almost all the time. So did I, but I wasn't thinking about girls. When we went over to Marks to swim in his pool, I liked seeing them in their swimming trunks with no shirts. And I'd get them talking about girls so that I could see Tracy's boner. He wore dark-blue trunks with short legs, almost like shorts. No underwear. So when he got excited, it made me excited. We never changed in front of each other, taking turns in the bathroom instead. We always took a long time to change, and we knew why, and we didn't say anything.
When seventh grade started, and changing and showering in gym class, I began to know why I wasn't all that excited about the girls tits and butts and bare legs. Seeing other boys in the nude told me why.

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  Dylan's
Posted by: WMASG - 11-16-2025, 10:58 AM - Replies (2)

   


It was when I was just a couple of months from turning sixteen. For over a year I had been having feelings for guys, and being really interested in seeing the guys in the gym showers and in their skimpy gym shorts. Hell, I was interested in guys fully dressed, too.
I had a major crush on Jeremy, who was so cute it almost hurt to look at him. I liked guys with dark hair and fair skin, and Jeremy had both. He was also a bit athletic and in great shape. And in my gym class. I must have beat off thinking about him every day for over a year. But he was a jock and I was a nerd, so we didn't even talk to each other.
I wasn't very picky, but I was horny as hell. I would have messed around with anyone who tried to. Band dorks were all supposed to be gay, but it seemed like I was the only one. I even brought up the topic sometimes, but no one seemed interested in talking about it, let alone were actually gay. I guess they had to hide it too.
Some of my friends were the dark-haired type I liked so much, but I had no idea how to figure out if any of them were gay or anything. I was starting to think I was going to graduate a total virgin.
One day I was hanging out with some friends at Mike's garage - that was all fixed up as a rec room, with a pool table, a big screen and surround sound, a model-building workbench, and other neat stuff - when his friend Tom came over. Tom was in my algebra class and sat at the geek lunch table, and we had talked some, but he was Mike's buddy way more than mine. Today he came over and was wearing a pair of new jogging shorts. They were red with white piping around the leg holes and up the sides, and had very short legs. His mom had probably bought them kind of big, since he was growing a lot lately, like most of us were.
Anyway, Tom had black hair, which I loved, and a pale complexion, which I loved, and black eyes, too. He was on the skinny side of average, and on the short side, too. Thin red lips, nice smile, and almost no acne. Thin black eyebrows arched elegantly over his dark eyes. I'd seen him in the showers last year, and I knew he had pink nipples and no body hair except his pubes. Today I saw he was starting to grow hair under his arms because he was wearing a wife-beater with those baggy red shorts.
He was very Irish, with a last name that was probably straight from Ireland. I'd been paying attention to Tom for months now, but since he was Mike's friend, and I hadn't been good friends with him before, I was afraid of trying to get closer to him and tipping off him and the guy sabout how hot I thought he was. So I didn't talk to him any more than before, or act any different with him than I had for the years we'd known each other. That was hard to do. Tom was very hot now.
So he walked into MIke's garage wearing those baggy red jogging shorts and the bright white wife-beater t-shirt, white socks with two red stripes at the top, and black sneakers. The bright white shirt made his pale skin almost look tanned. His black hair was straight and neat, parted in the middle, and just long enough to be feathered back on both sides and cover his ears.
So the seven of us are sitting in Mike's garage, talking and laughing and having a good time, and I notice that Tom is just so hot. It's hard to keep my eyes off him. It has been for a couple of months or more. I guess I was extra horny that day, because I just couldn't stop looking at him. I had to force myself to look away a lot of times, and I had to be careful so that my boner wasn't showing. It was hell.
A couple of guys went home about six, so we all changed positions and locations, and that was when I saw that Tom's nut is just visible up the baggy leg of his red shorts. It was just sitting there in the shadow of his shorts, pink and wrinkled, and in danger of falling out further. I instantly got hard again. I was the only one directly across from him, so I didn't think the other guys could see it. They didn't say anything or seem to, anyway.
Mike's parents ordered pizza for us, and as we ate, Tom was sitting with the plate on his lap, so his nut was hidden. I had a break from the boner for a while. We played pool again, and messed around, and at one point, Tom was sitting on the old car bench-seat along the wall, and as I eyed my shot on the pool table, I saw his nut was visible again. I figured the other guys were going to notice this time, and I felt sort of bad for him, and I really didn't want to have to be careful about looking, and all that, so I sat down next to him after I missed my shot, and whispered, "Your nut is poking out your shorts leg, dude."
He got so red-faced it was funny. He stood up and said he was going to the bathroom, and left. His butt looked good as he walked out of the garage. When he came back, he was still red-faced, and gave me a little nod and sat down.
James left about eight, and it was starting to get dark, so Mike closed the garage door and turned on the lights. There were four of us now, so we played teams in pool. Mike and Tom on one team, me and David on the other. Pretty soon, Mike and Tom were kicking our asses.

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  Ed's
Posted by: WMASG - 11-16-2025, 10:56 AM - Replies (1)

   


Does everybody reading this remember always having a best friend? Please write and let me know, because I don't. I had friends, and I hung out with them, and sometimes one at a time, but I don't remember thinking of any of them as any different than the others. We were all friends, some better than others, but no single one of them was any closer or special to me. Not until the summer between seventh and eighth grades.
I grew up in Anderson, Indiana. I was born in the same house I grew up in, and had the same friends all those years, until the larger school in seventh and eighth grades, then high school.
The first thing I can remember finding sexually thrilling, though I didn't know that was what it was, was a pissing contest. I think it was fourth grade or so, about eight years old. Maybe seven. Some friends and I were at the park, and it was getting late, and we probably should have started heading home. But we were eight or so, and beginning to be allowed to go play and trusted to come home on time, and beginning to stretch our boundaries and our parents' rules.
But it was getting late, the sun was nearly setting, and I had to pee, but I didn't want to go home. If I did, like all of them, I wouldn't be allowed to go back out. David said he had to pee, and went behind the little shed the mowers and rakes and stuff for the park were kept in. I followed with the others, and giggling like the little kids we were, we all whipped out our winkies and sent streams of pee onto the back wall of the shed. The sun just illuminated our hands and the ends of our thingies, and I could see them as we laughed and peed. And for the first time, I felt a weird tingly-tickly sensation in my lower tummy. It was just like when I hung over the parallel bars on my waist, and if I got it just right, it tickled and tingled down there like crazy. Now, watching them hold themselves like that, and being able to see the ends of them, those funny tingles shot up from down there. I loved the feeling.
I also loved how they were all so different. Some seemed sort of rounded, some more pointed, and some even had a bundle of skin on the end that they had to pull back, making the end come poking out in a weird and fascinating way. They were all so interesting.
After that, I tried pretty often to have to pee when I was with the guys, so that I could see their things again. It was always fun and exciting.
It seemed like a normal kind of game, and I didn't think anything about it, other than it was a kind of secret fun that I didn't tell anyone about. I don't know why, it just didn't seem the kind of thing you told about.
By sixth grade I began to realize that I liked looking at other boys, and that I wanted to see them naked, and touch them in private places, and that it wasn't normal. My friends were saying the same things about girls, but girls didn't interest me nearly as much. They started saying that boobs weren't so bad instead of insisting that they were gross. And they started talking about girls' butts, and even that weird, forbidden, unknown place, that mystery of mysteries; the vagina.

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  Elijah's
Posted by: WMASG - 11-16-2025, 10:53 AM - Replies (1)

   


I grew up being babysat by my uncle. He was my mom's youngest brother, about ten years older than me. I can't remember the first time with him. I had to be less than seven, because we moved from an apartment to a house when I was seven, and it was already going on, though it was still kind of new. So maybe it started when I was about six. He would have been about fifteen or so, I guess. It's kind of embarrassing to say, but I really liked it. I mean, it felt great. And, yes, I was sucking him off, too. I don't remember him ever not having pubes or not cumming. I knew it was really naughty, and we'd get into huge trouble if anyone found out.
We did it whenever he babysat me, which was almost every weekend. My folks went out for dinner or to play cards with friends, or whatever. They'd be gone a couple hours or more, and we'd spend most of it on my bed doing it.
When I was about twelve, and he was like twenty-one or so, I didn't need a babysitter anymore. So I'd ride my bike to his house, telling my folks I was staying at a friend's house overnight, but I'd be at my uncle's place instead. I really liked sex with him. He never fucked me in the butt. He did play with my prostate with a finger or two, but he had a huge dick and it would probably have split my hole wide open. He had someone else he did that with. I met him, and saw him at my uncle's place quite a few times, but we didn't tell him we were doing it too. It was our secret.
By the time I was finally shooting semen of my own at thirteen, my uncle had taught me a lot of things. He showed me how it was way better when you took your time - the longer you did it for before you came, the better it was when you came. He taught me about abstinence for a day or two, or even more, to build up a big wad. There were weeks I didn't cum all week, so that when I did it with my uncle I'd fucking lose my ever-loving mind when he finally let me cum after edging me a few times. He taught me about getting really close, then going really slow, and making my body work to cum, making the explosion even more powerful when it happened. He taught me how to play with my prostate and how to play with his. He taught me how to suck a cock like a hundred-dollar whore - changing it up, changing speed, changing style, using hands too, playing with nuts, prostate play, stopping and starting, using your tongue everywhere, all those good things. And he'd told me a lot about girls, too. He showed me magazines and told me about how they worked, and what they were like. I probably knew more about girls and their parts than some married men. He didn't know I was gay then. I didn't either. I didn't know until later.
When I was fourteen, we moved again. This time it was to another state. Man, I hated that. I cried alone in my room. My uncle tried to make me feel better about it, and told me to find a guy my age to do it with. I liked guys, and figured I was gay, but I was really shy and I knew I wasn't going to find some other gay guy. Not easily, anyway. This was the late seventies, and being gay was something you hid. Yeah, I knew I was gay by then.

So there I was, 1978, fourteen, starting high school, living in a new state, going to a new school, shy, introverted, gay, and alone. Hours and hours away from my uncle and any hope of sex.

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  Eric's
Posted by: WMASG - 11-16-2025, 10:52 AM - Replies (1)

   


I grew up living in a massive trailer court a couple of miles outside Lansing, Michigan. I'm not kidding, it was huge! It was just outside town, trees on three sides, and two interstate highways right nearby. There were a bunch of factories and a truckstop, and some small stores, but not much else. The trailer park was so big it had three septic ponds! Man, they stunk something awful in the summer! Our elementary school was a couple miles south on a mostly empty county road, so we had to ride a bus, and our high school was even further away past that. We were so out in the middle of nowhere. It sucked.
I'd known I was gay since the start of seventh grade, just about the time puberty started. My friends were good guys, mostly brains and gaming dorks, and you would think that at least a couple of them were possibly gay - but there was no way for shy little me to find out. I'd tried talking about sex with them, and maybe trying to see how they felt about gay guys, but no one wanted to talk about gay guys, or anything but girls.
On the first day of high school, I saw so many hot guys, it was almost painful. But there was this one... his name was Scott. He was in my Algebra and Physical Sciences classes. And, I found out on the way home on the bus, he lived in the trailer park across the main road! Almost next door, kind of!
Damn.
He was smallish and lean, with slightly curly blond hair, wide dark-green eyes, ruby lips, and a splash of freckles across his cheeks. His complexion was medium, as if slightly tanned, all over. He wore khaki slacks and a dress shirt in solid colors all the time. Tan loafer-style shoes with brown or tan socks. Always neat and tidy, always organized, and always smiling. Almost perfect teeth that were very white. His face was so perfect - a nice round face and head, full chin that was rounded as well, slightly sharp cheekbones. He spoke very clearly, used very little slang or profanity, and had a great sense of humor. He was smart, of course. And he played the same fantasy games I and most of my friends did.
He was so fucking perfect. So hot. So nice. It was torture becoming friends with him.

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