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I felt pretty good. I was a homosexual. I was fine.
I wasn't alone. I had friends who didn't care that I was. They were too.
Even if my other friends found out about me, I'd still have friends.
I'd be fine.
I wiped my eyes and sighed, shaking a little.
I thought about how strange it was that I was a homosexual. It was hard to believe. I liked Katy, there was something nice about her, for sure, but what I felt about her was nothing compared to what I felt about Mitchell. Or Terry. Or even some of the other guys, especially Chet and Howie. I couldn't deny it.
I felt weird. I laid down in bed and read, hoping to get that stuff off my mind for a little while. I was tired of thinking about it.
Mom came in to tell me it was time to wake up. I couldn't believe I had fallen asleep and slept in my jeans all night. It was a first. I showered, had breakfast, then rode the bus to school with my friends. I wondered what they would do if they found out about me, and it bothered me, but I didn't let it get to me. Even if they hated me, and I hated thinking of that, I still had other friends. I knew it would hurt, but it wouldn't be the end of my world. Just a huge change in it. A change I never wanted to happen.
I talked with Chris and Mark in homeroom, and laughed and had an okay time. I kept looking forward to seeing Mitchell next period.
He was as good-looking as I remembered. I hadn't made it up. He was wearing another blue shirt. We talked before the class started and I looked at him the whole time, admiring him. His eyes were so warm and beautiful. His eyelashes were thick, but not dark, and the way they highlighted his eyes was incredibly attractive. His lips were so red and looked so soft. His smile was so bright and wide and open. When he laughed hard, he had dimples. I could have jumped across the aisle and onto him and just kissed him until we were naked and we...
Well, I had to put those thoughts away for then. I could look, and admire, and remember, but not go so far.
He was a nice guy. I had a great time getting to know him. I told him I was going to sign up for baseball today. I swear, his eyes lit up. He smiled and said, "That's great!" His dimples showed up.
I talked to Katy. She was so nice. I liked her. But there wasn't anything like I felt about Mitchell. I felt something more for Terry and David at the poker party, and Chet and Howie. I would do it with them, and her, but I wanted Mitchell. Badly.
I was sure I was falling in love with Mitchell.
Gym class. Wow. I did what Chet and Howie said to do. I looked, but slyly out of the corner of my eyes when I was looking downward. I saw, and remembered. All those bare legs and torsos, wow. And those gym shorts did nothing to hide anything, There were butts and bulges everywhere. Gawd. I got so hard during class. It was hard to hide it. But others got hard, too. I wondered if they were like me and Chet and Howie. But like they said in health class, boys got erections during exercise and odd times. They meant nothing. It was just biology.
Mitchell was breathtaking. Truly. My breath caught several times when I saw him. The way he filled out those shorts should be illegal. For the first time in my life, I wondered how a boy could not be sexually excited by other boys. Especially not be given a raging boner by someone like Mitchell wearing those gym shorts and that clingy t-shirt.
The showers were... hell. All that bare skin. Legs, chests, butts, genitals. I'd never seen other boys' gonads in such profusion before. And some were erect. They were teased, and they laughed with the teasers, and it wasn't so horrible for them. Except Larry Bauer. He was a complete dork, and had few friends, and he got teased something horrible. They started calling him a homo and pushing him around.
"If you really think he's one of those, why are you touching him when he's got an erection?" Rob Walters asked loudly. "Besides, he not one of those. We all have that happen. Seen you have it happen. Doesn't mean you're one of them. So leave him alone before you look like you're one of 'em for touching a guy with a boner in the showers."
They left Larry alone. Rob went back to showering. I admired him for that. Rob was a big guy, one of the biggest, and a senior. And a wrestler, a good one. No one was going to argue with him. Larry looked like he could start crying, but he showered and had the guts not to run off. I admired him for that.
I glanced around as I showered. It was a sight! Some guys hadn't even gotten hair around their privates yet, and had little-boy ones with tiny, round, smooth sacks under them. Some were just getting hair, and their penis was just growing out, their scrotums just wrinkling and swelling, but their testes still invisible. Some were further along, and had more than a few hairs, dicks that were filling out and hanging, and balls that were just showing through their wrinkled sacks. More than half had real hair there, a penis that hung down in front of their scrotum, and balls that were defined and swayed as they moved. And the older boys, wow. Big ones mostly, and big, hanging sacks with balls that you could see moving around as they walked or moved under the shower. Wow.
Some had skin on the ends, foreskin, and it was sometimes pointed. Some had no skin there, and some had enough skin that it covered some of the head of their penis. Some had a thick patch of hair, some with hair beside it on their thighs and hairy legs, hairy chests. Black hair, brown of every shade, blonde hair ranging from nearly brown to nearly white, and a few red. Nipples from tiny, pink little things, to huge, dark brown ones the size of small cookies. And butts of all sizes and shapes; big round ones, small tight ones, dimpled ones, almost square ones, high ones, low ones, some almost didn't have buttocks. Butts with smooth, white skin, butts with fuzz, butts with thick hair. Muscular frames with wide shoulders towering over others, skinny boys with ribs poking out who stood a head above the rest, stocky boys of average height, boys with average builds who were short, boys who were short and skinny. Boys with big arms, average arms, skinny arms. Legs with knobby knees, legs that were almost straight, legs with a little muscle, legs bulging with muscle. Legs with no hair, legs with some hair, legs with fur of all colors. Small feet, regular feet, feet so long they were almost freakish; those boys usually had the longest members, too.
I looked, but I didn't think. I didn't explore any thoughts. I looked and I remembered. I got more than a little full, but not hard. I laughed and changed with the guys, looking and remembering. Chuckie, Bart, and Mitchell moved their lockers to be with me, so I got to see them completely naked. Chuckie and Bart were both younger than me, and were both behind me in puberty. Chuckie was still bald and small, and had that pointy foreskin and a tiny sack. Bart was almost like me, with some hair at the base of his penis, growing balls not as big as mine, and his penis was nothing like as long as mine. It was kind of strange, in that it was so smooth. The edges along the side of his head seemed melted flat, were almost just not there. Mitchell was... breathtaking. Erection inspiring!
Most of us freshmen were pretty hairless. Some were completely hairless and still little boys, like Chuckie. Not me, and not Mitchell. His great sandy-blond-brown hair was the same all over. He had as much as me, which means he had a patch that was more than a circle around the base of his dick, but nothing like a full triangle. There was an obvious hint of a trail going up and around his navel. His scrotum hung like mine, not very far, but more than the less-developed boys'. I could see each testicle as they barely swayed inside his scrotum while he dried and put his legs into his underwear. His penis was larger than my other friends', but not as big as mine. It had extra skin that covered the end, just barely, until it started growing, then the tip of his pink penis poked out.
I wondered why he was growing hard. We were talking was all. I guessed it was just one of those pesky, random erections. But seeing that, mine started growing. I got dressed quickly, but it was mostly hard before I got my shorts on and was pulling up my jeans.
Mitchell put on deodorant, like I did.
"You get any longer and you'll need special pants," Chuckie teased.
"He's lucky," Bart said.
"I've never seen one that big except on the seniors," Mitchell said after pulling his shirt over his head.
He had hair starting under his arms, like me.
I felt myself blush.
"You're lucky, too," Chuckie said to Mitchell. "You fifteen?"
"Naw. Next month, though."
"Jer, too!" Bart said quickly.
Mitchell looked at me. His eyes were so big and warm.
"Really?" he asked.
I nodded, then said, "Fifth."
"No way! Sixth!"
"Twins!" Chuckie chirped.
The rest of the day was fine. Nothing stood out. After school I signed up for baseball. Next week we would start practices and try-outs, and I would have to arrange a ride after school. Chet and Howie said they would get me home. Mitchell came over to me and he and I hung out while we walked to the bus lanes. He was simply stunning. I knew I was falling for him, and I wasn't so bothered by the fact. I could keep it to myself. I could just be friends with him, and have my dream of being with him. We had a good time.
The bus ride home, then my room, and then, well, I took care of business. It had been four days since Chet and Howie had done that to me, and I hadn't done it since. I dropped my pants, laid on my bed, and got busy. It was no time until I made the biggest mess so far. And it was the best! I thought of Chet and Howie and what happened at the pool, then Mitchell and doing that with him. It was almost as good when I came as when Chet and Howie had done it to me. My whole body tensed up, my muscles shivered, that tension and pressure between my legs was so intense! It was a really good one!
I cleaned up, changed clothes, did homework, had dinner, told my folks I had signed up for the team and about try-outs and practices next week and getting a ride home with Chet. And that I would need a ride to the swim lessons on Saturday. Mom said she would take me, and Dad made sure she had the fee. I went to my room, did the little bit of homework I had, then went and played ball with my friends. I looked at butts and bulges, but kept it to myself. I had a good time. I came home, had a snack, took a shower and did it again. I got ready for bed. I kept thinking about Mitchell. I did it again. I slept like a rock.
The rest of the week was fine. Fun. Mitchell and I became good friends. He took my breath away. I masturbated to thoughts of him every day after school before I did homework, then again when I got home from playing ball with my friends, then again before I went to bed. It was a great week.
I was awake early on Saturday morning. I was hard and horny and almost did it. Instead, I put the swim trunks on and then my jeans. I fixed cereal and watched television. I was anxious to get to the swimming lessons and for the private lessons with Chet and Howie. I couldn't wait. I was hard the whole morning. I wanted to take care of it, but I wanted to save it for then, too. It was frustrating to hold off doing it.
I went and joined the guys and played ball all day. Those trunks felt so... wow! They just rubbed me in some awesome way that just felt so... good! I was so hard almost all the time! I skipped lunch and kept playing. Around dinner time I headed home. I showered, still wearing the trunks. They felt so incredible! Especially wet! Gawd, I wanted to do it! But I didn't. I felt like I was plugged into the wall socket, I was so charged up. I wrung the trunks dry and hung them over the back of my desk chair and wore nothing under my jeans at the dinner table. It was almost naughty, and really exciting. Then I sat in my room and read, and as soon as the trunks were dry enough not to soak through my jeans, I put them on. I loved how they felt! I got hard again wearing them, and I started to worry that I would be hard during the lessons.
Then, finally, it was time. I got my towel and went to the living room. Mom got ready, Dad wished me well.
The drive was excruciating! The trunks rubbed and excited me no end! It was like they were designed to make you hard and excited.
Mom pulled up in front of the school.
"It's a nice building. Do you enjoy going here?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Well, it still seems so strange that my little boy is in high school," she said, smiling at me in that way that made me blush.
"Mom," I complained, blushing.
"I know, you're not my little boy any more. But you'll always be my little boy to me, I think."
She laughed and gave me the fee.
"I signed the papers on Wednesday during lunch. I saw you talking to that girl in the hallway. Do you like her?"
"Oh, go swim, Jeremy," she said, shaking her head.
I literally jumped out of the car. It was somehow so embarrassing to know that my mother had seen me talking to Katy in the hallway at school. We had started doing that after our lunch period. I liked talking to her. She was fun, nice, and we got along great. I wondered if I would have to take her out. I wondered how I would handle that. I figured I would. If we did something, I wouldn't mind. I was sure I would be okay making out with her. I would even do it with her.
I assumed that I liked both boys and girls. But I was sure I was falling for Mitchell. It was so frustrating to like him so much. But I guessed I could pretend it's him if I did stuff with Katy. Maybe. Nah. It'd be weird. Maybe, though. Who knows.
Inside, it was cool and humid, and smelled of chlorine. And the sight of Chet and Howie in their swim trunks pushed thoughts of Katy well out of my head. Gawd, they were handsome!
Chet's blond hair was almost white, and his big, deep, intense green eyes shone out as he waved at me. I couldn't see those freckles on his tanned cheeks until I got close enough to shake hands with him and Howie. And he was so strong. His broad chest was almost smooth, but some of his pale hair spread out between his big, pink nipples. His pecs were defined and rippled as he reached out to shake hands. His wide smile beamed.
Howie's dark-brown hair was free of the usual Brylcreem, and it looked better in my opinion. His big, brown eyes sparkled at me. He was as well-built as Chet, but his darker hair showed up far more than Chet's almost white hair. He was tanner, too.
They were both wearing their tight, revealing trunks, like I was wearing under my jeans. I was already hard, but seeing them like that only made it harder and it started to throb. I wasn't sure I would be able to take off my jeans. We talked and the other guys came over to talk, too. They were all younger than me, and none of them could swim, either. They had all taken the primer class that I had, but I assumed they had flunked the test I had passed.
After a few minutes I knew all their names, and thought that a couple of them were pretty cute. Darin and Greg. They were both probably bare of hair now, but I knew in a couple of years they would be really something. Big eyes, blue on Darin and gray on Greg, and both had nice blond hair and nice lashes and brows. And great smiles with nice lips. And they had nice features. They were probably going to be really handsome. But at least they didn't give me an erection, so that had gone down.
There were about a dozen girls on the other side of the pool. I knew I should be seen looking at the girls, so I did. They giggled as they took quick glances our way.
"They know a good thing when they see it," Chet said, elbowing me.
"They're looking at you and Howie," I told him.
"Wanna bet?" he challenged. "Go get in your trunks and see. Stay about twenty feet from us when you come out and watch where they look."
I squinted at him.
"What?" he asked, his grin widening.
I went to the bleachers, about twenty feet away, and while watching the girls out of the corner of my eyes, took off my shirt, then sat down and took off my shoes and socks, then stood up and dropped my jeans. They giggled and snickered and were obviously watching me. The girls, I mean. Howie and Chet were doing a great job of talking to each other, but looking at me and then the girls, and then each other, then me and the girls, and so on. I made a show of forming my clothes into a neat pile, giving them a full view of me from behind. Then I turned around and gave them the full monty.
Yeah, they'd been watching me. Not Chet. Not Howie. Not the younger guys. Well, not just Chet and Howie.
I could see their blushes across the pool, and hear their giggles as I walked to join Chet and Howie.
"We created a monster," Howie laughed.
The coaches started the lessons by breaking us up into groups. I was with Chet and four other boys. First we learned how to scissor-kick properly. Chet held onto each of us as we held onto the side of the pool and kicked. When it was my turn, his hands held me firmly on my waist, and then one slowly moved under me, to sort of hold and cup me there. It got me hard. The way his hand felt through the weird material of those tight trunks was really something!
Then was frog-kicking, and his hands smoothly slid down my thighs and legs, showing me the proper positioning. Oh, wow! He did the same to the other boys, so I wasn't concerned about them seeing it being done to me. I watched to see if he put his hands on them the way he did on my lap, and he did from time to time, on every boy. I knew what he was doing, and why, and I wondered if anyone was going to pass.
Then proper arm movements for all the strokes. Howie's hands holding my hips, sometimes fondling my privates. Then holding our breaths under the surface. Mostly to prove to those who hadn't done it that it was perfectly safe to do.
Then we used each stroke in turn. While Howie was working with one of us, the rest of us were laughing and talking. The other boys hardly paid Howie and whom he was working with any attention at all, though I did, and did my best not to let on to the other boys that I was.
In turns, Howie held us by our waists as we kicked and stroked, making suggestions and offering advice. His hands roamed and explored, not only on me, but all the boys. One guy obviously didn't like that at all and stopped trying and just moved away, looking at Howie in a funny way.
"Something wrong?" Howie asked.
"Don't," he said softly.
"Sorry. You're slippery all wet. And I can't let go, rules. So sometimes my hands brush over areas I'd rather they didn't, but if I let go and something happens to you, it's my head. Okay?"
The boy nodded and walked back to him.
"I'll let go sooner and get a grip again sooner, okay?"
The boy nodded and let Howie hold onto him. The other boys didn't notice, and the guy didn't complain again. I was sure Howie cooled it a bit. Though I did notice that he was holding one boy with yellow hair there quite often, and the boy seemed to be grinning. Howie looked up at me and winked really quickly. I wasn't sure if it was intentional or not.
The lessons were fun. Turns out I like to swim. By the end, I was swimming from one end of the pool to the other, using all the different strokes, and didn't mind a bit that there was so much water under me in the deep end. I knew that I would float, that all I had to do was let my legs come up and lie still on the surface on my back, and I could wave my hands under my back and make it to the side easily.
The coaches announced that next week we would be learning how to swim under the surface the entire length of the pool, and how to maneuver without coming to the surface. That sounded fun! And the third week we would learn diving. I was really looking forward to that, too.
As everyone got out of the pool, Howie was talking to the yellow-haired boy. He had been quiet and hardly talked with us on the side of the pool, only telling us his name, Chris. He was about my age, maybe the same, but small. They were laughing and seemed to be making friends, so I left them alone and joined Chet after grabbing my towel. He was drying off and smiled at me as I walked up to him.
"I see Howie might have found another student for private lessons," he said, nodding toward Howie and the yellow-haired boy.
"I think so. He was feeling him up and he seemed to smile at it."
"You saw?" Chet asked, suddenly looking worried.
"Yeah, but the others didn't. They were talking and mostly looking the wrong way, toward the bleachers."
"That don't mean someone else might not have seen, though," Chet said, still looking worried, maybe even a little angry.
"Nah. The coaches had their hands full, and the other kids were all too far away. I only saw because I watched. And I knew what to watch for."
Chet nodded, but still seemed almost upset.
"We've got to be careful. I saw that one boy back off and give him the eye."
"Yeah, but Howie explained how the water makes skin slippery, and the kid went back. And he was fine. He talked with us during the other kids' turns and never said anything, even laughed and seemed fine."
Chet nodded, and then looked at me and grinned.
"Good thing having you here. Like an insider."
Howie and the yellow-haired boy got out of the water and the boy grabbed his towel, waved at Howie, and took off for the doors. Howie grabbed his towel and headed toward us, smiling.
"That's one for the lessons in a couple of years. Be up to you to bring him into the fold, Jer," he said when he was next to us. "He'll be in high school next year."
"You sure?" Chet asked.
"He even felt me back a few times. He was so hard the whole lesson we had to talk after so it would go down. He wasn't going to get out of that pool if his life depended on it," Howie explained with a wide smile and a laugh.
"What about the boy who backed away from you?"
"I think he was fine, after I held him really tightly and didn't let my hands slip again."
"That could have been bad."
"It's that risk we talked about. It was the first touch there, and he obviously has been touched before and didn't like it. Did you see his eyes? I think he's been, well, I think he got it rough, if ya know what I mean."
"It was in his eyes. Just like Eric."
"Who's Eric?" I asked quickly.
"He's a friend of ours. He, well, he was, to be honest, had something bad happen to him."
"Well, you know that stupid movie?"
"Remember how I said there are men like in that movie? But they are really the exception? Well, there really are men like that. Eric, well, he met one. Well, not met, one found him. When he was fourteen."
"It was pretty bad. Eric had that look when he told me."
"He told you?"
"Yeah. He had to tell someone. We were good friends. He was sad day after day, and I wanted to know why, so I made him tell me."
"Those men do exist, but that doesn't mean you'll be like that."
I nodded. I knew that I wouldn't. I wanted what Chet and Howie had showed me, and what I thought about doing with Mitchell. I wanted it to be... good. Something fun. Exciting and wonderful. Not scary and bad. Or hurtful. Or for there to be any pain or bad feelings.
"You know how your parents say there aren't any monsters?" Chet asked.
I nodded again.
"There are. And some monsters are men who hurt boys. Some are men who hurt girls. Some are men who hurt men, or women, or animals. Some are homosexuals, sure, but not all homosexuals are like that."
"All thumbs are fingers, but not all fingers are thumbs," I said.
They laughed, I laughed.
"Handsome, smart, hung, and a sense of humor. I might be in love, Chet."
"Really? Gonna leave me?"
"Never. I'll just suffer love unrequited from afar."
"Not too far. It's about time we start his private lessons," Howie said, then bounced his eyebrows at me.
I blushed. And in an instant, I was hard. I held my towel lower. They noticed. They laughed. I laughed.
"We always thought we would, well, do something here with someone, if we ever found one. But, well, I think we'd rather go somewhere else."
"Where?" I asked.
"I can get a hotel room. We'd have more privacy. No one is supposed to come in here after we close up after the lessons, but, that don't mean someone won't. A janitor or something. Or someone might wonder why Chet's car is in the parking lot. We could risk getting caught."
"I'd rather go to a hotel, I guess," I said. "But, how late will we be?"
"Well, I've got a plan," Chet said.
I could tell he had a whopper of a plan by his grin.
"Oh, geeze, what?" I asked, almost afraid to hear it.
"First, we better get out of our wet trunks and street clothes. We can change in the locker room. Come on."
We did. We all watched each other. It was hugely exciting. They were so huge! I know I was almost a freak, being almost seven inches and not quite fifteen, but they were just as long! Well, maybe not. Howie's was shorter, but fatter. And his dark hair made him look like he was thirty-years-old or something. The way his curved up a little was so neat. Chet's was longer and thinner, just shorter than mine, and really straight. And their balls were so cool. I wanted to reach out and grab them so badly. I guess it showed.
"You want to?" Howie asked.
"Go ahead," he said, stepping up to me.
"Sure. You're gonna at the hotel. Why not check things out?"
"We could get caught!"
"We could, so make it fast."
I couldn't resist. They were so heavy! And big! And wow! Did they feel great. He took my other hand and put it on his dick. It was so warm! And hard and soft. Mine was bouncing. He reached out and grabbed it with one hand, and my balls with the other. It felt great!
"That is amazing! For a kid almost fifteen, you're just... hung!"
"Now, now. No firing him off already," Chet said, laughing.
We both let go. I was so hard it almost hurt.
"So what's this plan? How can I have enough time? It's almost eight," I asked, putting my underwear on.
Chet laid out his plan as we got dressed.
It wasn't a bad plan at all!
"But what about the party?" I asked.
I was surprised that I wanted to go.
"We can go next weekend. But if you really want to go to the party instead, we can," Chet said with a shrug. "Up to you, Jer. You decide what we do."
Be alone with Chet and Howie, or go to the party? I wished I could go see Terry and David, at least, but still, no contest!
"Why don't we swing by the party for a while, then head over to the motel?" Howie offered.
"Why not?" Chet asked.
I could have hugged them both! We drove to my house. They came in with me.
"Dad?" I asked from the door to his den.
"Yes?" He looked up and saw all three of us there. "What's up, boys?"
"Well, we'd like permission for Jeremy to come with us to Indy. There's a game tomorrow, and my girl can't make it, so I have an extra ticket. He could come, and it won't cost him anything."
"Oh?" Dad asked.
"Well, see, Howie and me already planned on staying at my uncle's. We were all set. Then my girl wanted to come, so I got her a ticket and decided to go in the morning. But then she decided to not go. So, we figured we'd go ahead and head out tonight and stay at my uncle's like we planned to begin with. But, if Jer is going, and you'd rather he stay at home tonight, we'd understand, and go in the morning."
"Oh. I see. Why stay at your uncle's? The game isn't until the afternoon."
"He lives a block from the ball park. And he's going, too. He got us the tickets in the first place. And the other ones so I could sit with my girl. And now we're back to the first ones with all three of us together, but now his wife doesn't want to go, so now we have four seats all together but only three of us."
"Ah, I see. And you'd rather go tonight, and stay there tonight, and have all day in the city."
"Well, yes, sir. We can still do some of the things we had planned with our uncle if we go tonight. There's a pancake social in the morning that we were going to go to, where he works. We can still do the museum, though, if we go tomorrow."
"Well, how much is the museum?"
"It's free for students on Sundays."
"Oh, yes, I remember that. And you'd rather make this pancake social?"
"Well, I would," Howie said. "See, there's this girl, the daughter of someone who works with Chet's uncle. We sort of met at one last month, and, well, I'd like to get back and, well..."
"A girl, of course. I see. So, you'd like to go with them tonight, I take it, Son?"
"Well, sure, Dad, I mean, if it's not a big deal. I mean, free breakfast, free day at the museum, and a free home game."
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a five dollar bill, and waved it at me.
"You be on your best behavior. I don't want his uncle calling me and telling me how rude a son I've raised."
"No way, Dad!" I said, taking the bill and giving him my best smile.
"What time will you have him home?"
"The game should be over by six, so we should have him home by eight."
"I'm trusting you with my son, I hope you understand that."
"I sure do, sir. We'll keep a close eye on him, and have him back safe and sound."
"You do that, Chet. Howie. Pack clean clothes, Son."
I did. And my toothbrush and deodorant and such things, and I was ready to go in two minutes flat.
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