I grew up in a rural town in the middle of Illinois. It was big enough to have a high school, but barely. It was only ten or so years old. We had fields and farms all around our town, so it wasn't some suburb of Chicago or Peoria or anything. Eight years ago I was thirteen and in seventh grade. I knew I was gay and wanted to stop hiding it. So I went to a couple LGBT meetings. Some of the older guys were sort of all over me, being the new meat, and it sure felt that way. It was like being in a display in the local butcher shop. So I stopped going pretty soon.
I was a pretty decent looking guy. I wasn't chubby or super-skinny. My face wasn't bad at all. I was no stud, but I wasn't ugly at all. I was really kind of happy with my looks and my body. I really liked my ass. I could see it in mirrors and by using my webcam. I had a really nice ass. I loved using this old plunger handle I'd taken out of the trash when Mom got a new one. A little Vaseline and some privacy and that thing was up my ass while I beat one out. I wanted a real dick bad. I wanted to be fucked. I was a natural bottom.
Going to those LGBT meetings gave me the guts to tell my folks. They were pretty cool about it, but I could feel that they were working hard not to be shocked or surprised or anything. Then I told my older sister and younger brother. Then I told my closest friend, then my other close friends. Then I told anyone who said anything about me being a fag that I was. So soon everyone at school knew. Some kids got all cold and distant, but a couple kids met me outside school and told me they were gay too! I wasn't really attracted to any of them, but I would have had sex with any one of them if they offered. I sometimes wondered if they were waiting on me to offer, but I didn't have the balls to do that.
In fact, I didn't have much balls at all. I barely had pubes, like the other guys in seventh grade. But I did have a decent dick. I was growing pretty well in that regard. Only a couple other guys in my gym class had bigger dicks. At least that's how it looked in the gym showers.
About a month after the whole school knew I was gay, I was walking home from a friend's house late on a Saturday night. We thought I was going to stay over, but he got into trouble for fighting with his little brother so I was told to go home. His little bro was a punk-ass and probably caused the trouble just to ruin his brother's good time. Anyway, I was walking home, and when I got to a street corner, an older kid was walking down the cross street. I'd seen him around, he lived in the neighborhood, and I knew he was at least two years older than me. And, yeah, he was a pretty hot dude. Sort of my type. Athletic, tall, muscular, and cute. I didn't want any trouble, so I went a across the street to avoid walking on the same side as him.
He saw me, and actually waved. So I waved back. Then he came jogging across the street toward me. I wondered if he was actually going to start trouble. But he came trotting up, smiling, and said, "Hey, you're Jason, right?"
"Yeah. Why?'
"You're the gay Jason, right?"
"Yeah. Why?"
By now he was walking beside me. I was looking up just a bit at his face. Nice face.
"Well, can I talk to you?"
"Sure, I guess. What about?"
He took a few seconds, then said, "So, um, how did you know you were gay?"
"Uh, well, I like guys, for one thing."
He laughed a little, so I did too.
"Can I ask you something else?"
"Sure."
"Um, you ever done it with anyone?"
"No."
"Me either."
