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Message-ID: <51732asstr$1124431802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: The Gargoyle <thegarg0yle@hotmail.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 18 Aug 2005 21:08:41 EDT
Subject: {ASSM} My Weird Little Sex Life
Lines: 2826
Date: Fri, 19 Aug 2005 02:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


My Weird Little Sex Life

   By The Gargoyle

   The following content is absolutely true.  I've changed most of the
names, both biographical and geographical, in attempt to safeguard my own
anonymity.

   AGE 5

   I got a thing for feet.  Always have.  This sounds ridiculous but I
think it's got something to do with this: Socks and underwear.  As a small
child I saw some kind of connection between socks and underwear.

   I understood very clearly that the things behind your underwear were
private.  You weren't supposed to see the things behind other people's
underwear nor were you supposed to expose the things beneath your own.

   Underwear formed an extra layer between your clothes and your body -
between your pants and your really private parts.  Socks also formed an
extra layer - between your feet and your shoes.  So I interpreted that your
feet were also private.  I think that's the source of the fetish.



   I remember in kindergarten - one day in gym class.  There was a new kid
in our class.  He must have just moved to the neighborhood.  He didn't have
the proper gym attire.  Now for crying out loud, we were five years old. 
How could one not have the proper gym attire?  Shorts, T-shirts and
sneakers were the standard issue for five-year olds.  What the hell else
would five-year olds wear to school?  Okay so this kid might have been new
to the country let alone our kindergarten class.  The point is - He had
these shiny black shoes that were right out of the question when it came to
gym class.  Therefor he went barefoot.

   Barefoot.

   I was stunned.  His naked feet slapped against the gym floor as he ran
around.  He might as well have been running around with no pants or
underwear as far as I was concerned.  How could he dare expose himself like
that?  I would have fought to the bloody death before stripping my feet
naked in front of a classroom of boys and girls.



   At this time in my life I spent a lot of time with my grandparents.  I
have an uncle only ten years my senior and at that time he was around 15
and had a bedroom in the basement of my grandparents house.  I spent many
nights in his bed with him, in our pajamas.  I remember one night we were
horsing around on his bed and for a joke he grabbed my bare foot and stuck
my toes in his mouth.  Don't get me wrong.  He's entirely straight.  For
him it was strictly a joke but I suppose it must have left a mark on me -
for me to remember it to this day.

   I was already masturbating at this time.  I started at age four.  I
guess that's a little precocious.  I discovered it by humping a pillow in
effort to suppress the urge to pee.  For the next 13 years I got off
strictly by humping pillows.  Oddly I never thought to use my hand til I
was 17.

   This practice of humping pillows - When I was very young I gave it the
name "homework" of all things.  Homework was a term I'd heard from my young
uncle and aunt and I didn't really know what it meant, nor would I have
known the term for pillow-humping so I guess I just threw the two things
together.  It would have seemed sensible enough to a four-or-five-year-old.


   One evening in my uncle's bedroom I wanted his attention - probably
wanted him to play a game with me.  But he, sitting at his desk explained,
"I can't.  I'm doing my homework."

   "Well then I'm gonna do my homework too," I declared and proceeded to
climb onto his bed and grind myself silly against his pillow.  He just
looked at me a little strange and that's when I began to realize that my
'homework' wasn't necessarily fit for public performance.

   THREE APPROACHES

   The school where I attended kindergarten was quite close to our
apartment - separated only by a large park and small wooded area.  One
evening my friends and I were playing in the park and one by one they were
called home.  I think there was a rule that I was to go home whenever the
last of my friends were called home but on this evening I didn't.  I
decided to hang out all alone for a while just to be adventurous.

   The sun was setting.  I heard a voice calling to me.  It came from the
dense coniferous trees on the other side of the steel 'frost' fence that
bordered the park.  I spied a boy - significantly older than myself -
wedged between the trees and motioning me to come over.  I obeyed - perhaps
out of fear.  I was generally shy and mistrusting of older boys - assuming
they were mostly only interested in beating up younger boys.

   I approached cautiously, planning to run like hell if he started to
climb the fence.  I don't remember how the conversation started but he
quickly brought it around to the subject of 'streaking'.  I'd never heard
that term before.  He explained it meant taking off all of one's clothes
and running around in public.  He claimed he did it all the time and urged
me to give it a try - right then and there.

   I was not comfortable with this and not at all keen to try.  He offered
incentives.  He explained that there were great rewards for taking off my
clothes - chocolate, cash, my very own TV for my bedroom.  He said he'd
been given all these things in return for stripping naked.  I didn't
believe him but was afraid to say so.  He must have really wanted to see me
naked because he tried for the longest time to convince me.  I wanted him
to leave me alone but was a bit scared to leave without his permission.

   It was growing dark.  We heard my mother calling for me.  He did some
serious back-pedaling in a hurry.  He told me that what streaking really
meant was being a good boy and doing what my mother told me.  Then he took
off.

   The next day I told my friend Johnny about the encounter.  He wasn't
especially bright.  At the mention of the chocolate, cash and TV he
promptly stripped himself naked and began running laps around the parking
lot.  His mom showed up all of a sudden and gave him an earful and a whack
on the ass.  No cash or prizes.

   That was the first of three such propositions through my childhood. 
What can I say?  I was a pretty cute kid.



   Around the age of eight I met a new friend who's family had just
immigrated from England.  He became very popular because he had all kinds
of toys that none of us had.  He had an older brother that we never saw
much of but one day he and I found ourselves alone together.

   He had a very cool bike - the envy of the neighborhood - basically the
early version of the 'motocross' bicycle.  He offered to 'double' me on it.
I sat in front of him and we rode around the apartment complex for a while,
then stopped and sat side by side on the slope of a hill.  He asked me what
I wanted to do and I had no suggestion.  I had no idea why this older boy
would take an interest in me.  I do now.

   He suggested a game I'd never heard of before.  He explained that one
person would lie on their back while the second person would remove
articles of the first person's clothing - one at a time - and have a peak
at what lay beneath.  I assumed the objective of the first person was to
try to stop the second person.  Not so, he explained.  The first person was
supposed to let it happen and simultaneously strip the second person.  I
didn't show a lot of interest in the idea and so he let it pass.



   Would-be molester number three was a little more aggressive.  This
occurred at about age 11.  I met an older boy who lived across the street
and a few doors down.  Though we hardly spoke much we would always
gravitate towards each other if I had no other friends about.  We would
just ride our bikes around together and speak very little.  He never
approached when I was with friends.  It was a strange association.  One day
we left the suburban survey where we then lived and found ourselves at a
tree-lined creek surrounded by fields of very tall grass.  It was a popular
place for my friends and I to play but he was a bit too old for that crowd.

   We dismounted from our bikes and walked alongside the creek for bit. 
The boy then told me that he wanted me to go lie down in the tall grass
with him and that he wanted to take my clothes off.  I said I wouldn't do
that.  He explained that no one would be able to see us and that he would
strip too if that would make me feel more comfortable.  I declined.  He
wouldn't take no for an answer.  He threatened to throw my bike into the
creek if I would not cooperate.

   He tried for a long time to convince me but I wouldn't budge.  Finally
he marched back to our bikes, took mine and disappeared into the trees.  I
crept along the opposite side of the creek and spied on him.  He found a
place where the creek was wide and shallow.  He carefully descended the
steep bank and placed the bike on a little 'island' of sand.  I was much
smaller than him and didn't know if I'd be able to get the bike back up
that bank on my own.

   I sneaked back to where we'd last talked and he met me there.  I played
dumb and asked for my bike back.  He lied.  He said it was submerged and
that I wouldn't find it.  He would only relocate it and give it back after
I got naked with him.  He tried at length but couldn't convince me. 
Finally he returned to the bike and brought it back to me - safe and sound.
He rode away and never approached me again.

   AGE 13 - 15

   Shortly after this I was moved to a newly built bedroom in the basement
of our house.  This afforded plenty of privacy and I would stay up very
late, often reading books or exploring sexual fantasies.  I was still
humping pillows at that time and I discovered that the mirror on my antique
dresser could swivel up and down if I removed a pin in the back that was
holding it in place.  I would angle the mirror slightly down, climb on to
my bed stark naked, chest down and looking forward at the mirror.  I had a
nice body - trim and toned.  I liked to watch my naked butt (albeit at a
sharp angle) as I humped away on the pillow.

   I explored fantasies of being accidentally or forcibly exposed to girls.
I would take scissors and cut my underwear down to almost nothing.  I'd
wear only that and incorporate it into my exposure fantasies.

   Sometimes I would turn out the lights, open my curtains and sit naked on
the deep window sill, parallel to the window with my bare butt and feet on
the cool ledge, arms around my knees.  There was a streetlight right in
front of the house and I was pretty sure I was visible from outside, not
that anyone would likely be looking in my direction.

   Being a basement room the window was right at ground level.  Several
nights I got really gutsy and opened the window and climbed outside stark
naked.  I never went further then our front lawn.

   Unfortunately it was a storm window and I couldn't figure out how to
re-attach the screen once it was off.  Eventually my parents discovered
what I'd done to the window and gave me shit for it.  I claimed I'd broken
into the house when I'd forgot my key.  They re-installed the screen and I
never pulled that stunt again.



   The street that ran behind our house parallel to our street was at a
higher elevation than ours so the lots that backed on to ours were higher,
their houses were higher and thus the fence between afforded lots of
privacy to their yards and almost none to ours.  One afternoon I went into
the backyard shirtless to talk to my mom who was sitting in a lounge chair
reading a magazine.  She glanced at the house behind ours and smiled and
said, "Did you know there's a girl staring out the window at you?"

   I hadn't known but it was kind of flattering.



   An older widowed British woman lived next door and I would cut her grass
and sometimes clean her pool.  My family was welcomed to use the pool
whenever she wasn't home.  The first time my folks let me use it unattended
I got a little adventurous.  I untied the string on my bathing suit and
began diving into the pool, climbing out and diving over and over again. 
Each time I dove the suit would be pulled down a bit by the force of
hitting the water but I would never adjust it.  Eventually it was half way
down my hips and my dick and ass were both half-visible.

   I wouldn't even look at the windows of the houses behind, not wanting to
know for sure if anyone was watching or not.  On the next dive the suit
came completely off and I continued naked for a while.  I was excited and
scared at the same time.



   My friend Steve Edison was a year younger than me.  He was a bit of a
pervert and quite likely gay or possibly bisexual.  I haven't seen him
since high school.  He and his brother would have friends over for little
skinny dipping parties.  His parents consented to these events and would
check on us periodically.  It was usually his mother who would pop out the
back door without warning and she caught many glimpses of myself and other
naked adolescent boys this way.  It was kind of funny at the time and
didn't concern me much.

   They also hosted many sleepovers.  We'd bed down in sleeping bags in the
basement rec-room during cold months and in the summer we'd tent it in the
back yard.  Steve made it clear that the Edison's bed-time ritual must be
observed by their guests.  When Steve and his brother were ready for bed
they would always go downstairs and kiss their mother goodnight.  I assume
this was usually done in pajamas.  But during sleepovers we all slept in
our underwear because that was the 'cool' thing to do.  So before bed Steve
would insist that we all strip to our underwear and parade to the living
room or kitchen and present our half-naked selves to his mother for
good-night kisses.  It seemed harmless enough at the time but in hindsight
seems a little suspect, doesn't it?

   AGE 16-17

   We started hanging out with a group of girls our age and some couples
were formed.  Two of the girls, Monique and Krista were quite interested in
me but I had a pretty good sense by this time that girls weren't exactly my
cup of tea - at least - they weren't as interesting to me as boys were.

   One evening a friend's parents were out and we were sitting around their
kitchen table playing cards.  Monique, sitting directly across from me
raised her leg and rested her foot on my chair between my legs.  In no time
she was grinding her toes against my crotch.  I let her do it for a while
but I wouldn't sleep with her despite her repeated hints.



   We boys were skinny dipping at the Edison's one night when we heard the
girls show up at the side gate.  We all scrambled into our suits and
climbed out of the pool to greet them.  They were quite brazen, suggesting
that we remove our suits and go back to what we were doing.  We said we'd
skinny dip if they would.  They wouldn't but made it quite clear that
they'd like to watch us at it.  They became quite adamant that we should
strip off and 'just pretend they weren't there' but it never happened.

   Krista stood next to me and put her arm around my waist.  I wasn't
interested in her but didn't mind the contact.  Her fingers began to wander
around my lower back and then down to the waistband of my wet shorts. 
Eventually she slipped below the waistband and cupped the upper half of my
right butt cheek, her fingers almost imperceptibly caressing my ass. 
That's as far as it went.

   Mr.  and Mrs.  Edison were out of town that weekend.  We boys stayed
overnight.  There was some very underage drinking going on and a very cute
boy named Kevin ended up in just his underwear and got very friendly and
cuddly with everyone - boys and girls alike.

   The next morning we were back in the pool when the girls showed up
again. We weren't naked but Kevin was still in just his 'tighty whitey'
underwear which by this time had become ripped in various places and were
soaking wet from the pool.  The girls had a hay-day with this, grabbing his
undies at every opportunity and shredding them more.  He couldn't have
cared less and I found it all very arousing.  Half his adorable little ass
was showing as were his testicles for the most part and occasionally -
depending on the angle - his dick.  I was praying one of the girls would
just rip the damn things off him but no such luck.

   I lost touch with Kevin shortly after that and then heard that he had
died while still in his teens.  Some rare cancer or leukemia or something.
He was such a sweet kid.  Too sad.

   OLD MACDONALD

   I was taking a photography class in grade ten and one Saturday I biked
up a 200-foot ridge (locally referred to as 'the mountain') and went to a
park that offered a grand view of the city.  I snapped some pictures and
strolled through the flower gardens.  I noticed that a woman about my
mother's age seemed to always be in the area and kept looking at me.

   I sat on a bench overlooking the view and looked through the camera,
fiddling with the aperture, shutter speed and focus settings.  I sensed
someone taking a seat beside me.  It was the woman.  She started up a
conversation.  She asked about my interest in photography and school in
general.  Her name was Marilyn MacDonald (her real name by the way) and she
turned out to be a high school teacher but at a different school than mine.
She told me how she'd married a farmer's son at an early age and they were
still together with two kids - on a farm of their own in a rural community
about a half-hour away.  Apparently her husband was a little older and had
had his eye on her for a while before her parents allowed her to date.  She
explained that she had never dated or "been with" anyone but him.

   This subtle reference to sex gave me a pretty good idea where all this
was going and even though I was pretty sure I was gay I wasn't sure if I
might be bisexual and wasn't entirely against the idea of finding out.

   She confessed that some of her own students had started to catch her
eye. This didn't shock me.  I had a female math teacher in a class where I
sat in the front row.  Whenever I wore shorts I would repeatedly catch her
looking at my legs.

   Marilyn asked if I had a girlfriend and smiled when I said no.  She told
me that her husband felt bad that as a teenager she had never experienced
sex with anyone but him and that he now invited her to do so - but not with
a full-grown man.  He wanted to be her only man but she could have sex with
a teenager if she wanted and suggested that she find a virgin to educate in
the ways of sex.  She said I was cute and asked had I had sex before.  She
was pleased when I confessed that I hadn't.  Was I interested in getting
together with her some time, she wanted to know.  I said quite possibly,
and she gave me her number.

   After we'd said good-byes and she left, I watched her walk across the
parking lot to the far side and climb into a pick-up truck.  I turned back
to the view and listened as the truck pulled up to the near side of the lot
and parked again.  Moments later I felt her hand on my shoulder.

   "Do you want to get together now?" she asked.  "Will you come home with
me?"

   I did.  On the ride to her farm she assured me that we would be alone.
She told me that she'd been looking for a young man for some time and that
she'd placed an ad in a newspaper.  It garnished just one reply but the
18-year-old had declined at the last moment.

   We arrived at the farmhouse and sat in the living room, me on the couch.
It didn't take long for things to heat up.  She started to undress and I
started to do likewise but she asked me to wait.  She wanted to do that for
me.

   In just her bra and panties she came to me and lifted my tee shirt off.
I raised my ass so she could take my shorts down.  She removed my socks.  I
kept hearing creaking noises as she stripped me and I asked her more than
once - was she sure we were alone in the house.  There was no other vehicle
in the lane-way but there was a garage and the door was shut.  She assured
me more than once that we were alone and next thing I knew her hand was
inside my underwear playing with my dick.  I marveled at the new sensation.

   I thought I should reciprocate so I touched her breasts and she reached
behind her to remove her bra.  Off came my underwear, then hers.  My dick
was finally hard.  I was hoping she'd suck it but she never did.  She lay
back on the couch and guided me inside.  No condom.  It was the wettest
damn place I'd ever been.  There was just so little friction I wondered how
I'd get off.  This didn't compare to a pillow at all.

   "I'm sorry I'm so wet!" she actually said to me.

   We went at it for a while.  She continually ran her hands along my back
and ass which felt good.  I just wished there was more friction.

   I don't know if it was a sixth sense or what but suddenly I was
absolutely positive we were not alone.  I pulled out.

   "Someone's in the house!" I insisted.  She held on to me like she was
afraid I'd bolt.

   "It's okay," she said.  "It's just my husband." I looked around wildly
and there he was.  I saw his head pulling back behind the corner of the
hallway.

   "Come out," she told him.  "It's okay," she said to me.  "He just wants
to watch.  He won't touch you!"

   My dick was softening quickly.  This had become awfully weird all of a
sudden.  Her husband walked over and introduced himself.  He knew my name
already.  He'd been listening to us the whole time.  Here I was naked on my
knees, straddling his wife on his couch.  He shook my hand while his wife
was shaking my dick, trying to keep it alive.  I was sure I couldn't go on
at this point.

   He scooped up my clothes from the floor, half-hazardly folding them and
placing them on the coffee table.  He complimented me on my body and urged
us to continue while he took a seat and watched.  I realized at this time
that his motives were not entirely unselfish.  He was clearly getting
something out of this.

   We rutted some more, working up a good sweat.  I got over the creepiness
and started to get turned on at the idea of an audience.  It took forever
to come but I did.  She didn't as far as I recall.  The husband had taken
my shorts and undies in the meantime and they were now in his hands on his
lap.  I don't know if he'd sniffed them or what.

   Marilyn donned her panties and put on MY tee shirt.  It was snug on her
and I was a little irritated.  I wanted to get dressed but they had
confiscated everything but my socks.  It was strange to be sitting around
completely naked with two clothed adults while the wife sat beside me and
continued to fondle my body.  We talked for a while.  The husband repeated
many of the things she'd already told me.  They'd got their story straight,
true or not.

   Eventually they surrendered my clothes, watched me dress and drove me
back to the park, me sitting between them in the truck.  They made me
promise to call them but I didn't.  I was shocked one day when my mother
answered the phone, passed it to me and it was Marilyn.  I can only surmise
that I had some kind of ID in my shorts and that's how they were able to
look up our number.

   This pissed me off because now I had to come up with some story when my
mother demanded to know who Marilyn was.

   They really wanted to hook up again but I never did.  That's the only
time I've ever had my dick in a woman.  I'm 36 now and I sometimes wonder
if I've got a 20-year old son or daughter somewhere!

   HIGH SCHOOL

   While my encounter with Mrs.  MacDonald and her voyeuristic husband
convinced me that my preference indeed leaned to the gay side I still
figured I'd lead a straight life.  I had no intention of coming out of the
closet to anyone because I saw no advantage to it.

   Then I met Daryl.  He was in the grade below me but was in my second
semester English class because he was fast-tracking through high-school. 
That is - he was building a 5-year diploma in just 4 years.

   Daryl was the first boy I found myself significantly attracted to.  He
was somewhat 'preppy' and often wore deck shoes to school without socks. 
During class he would sometimes slip his shoes off and I had a hard time
concentrating on class and not eyeing his feet.

   The attraction was strong enough that I came to realize that staying in
the closet might not be an option.  How could one make love to girls
knowing that such strong desires existed that could only be satisfied by
boys?

   The matter was sealed when the second object of my affection came along.
Very oddly that was none other than Kyle, Daryl's close friend - also a
year younger than I.  The three of us were not only in the same English
class (the only class I would ever share with either of them) but we also
were in the same work-group.  Our desks would be pushed together along with
three other students whenever we did collaborative work.

   I was a decent student but my grades plummeted in this class.  I was
thoroughly head-over-heels infatuated with this miracle of a boy.  Kyle was
thin, rather shy and intensely beautiful.  I couldn't take my eyes off him.
Now I finally understood that my being gay would have to be reckoned with.
I just couldn't keep my love for this boy a secret.  It was burning a hole
in my heart.

   Kyle had a twin brother (a theme in my life, it would come to seem)
named Craig.  They were physically almost identical.  This worked out well
for me because I loved Kyle too much to dishonor him by fantasizing about
him sexually!  So all my masturbatory fantasies revolved around Craig for
the longest time.  I would imagine kissing him from head to toe -
especially the toes, and sucking his dick.  I would orgasm quickly (I was
using my hand finally) and then spend the next two hours hugging my pillow
fiercely, pretending it was Kyle while I cried my eyes out.  Rather
pathetic I now realize.

   In my mind I had built Kyle up to be such a wonderful person that he
would surely be understanding and sympathetic to my plight.  So I chose him
to come out of the closet to!  This was a horrendous mistake.  While I
thought I could quietly reveal my undying love for him and receive a
compassionate (and profoundly delicious) hug in response, instead it scared
the shit out of him.  I would then spend the next year and a half begging
him to meet with me privately, intending that I would properly explain the
situation and assure him that this whole mess was no big deal from his
point of view.  That it carried no threat or implication to his own
heterosexual future.  I promised to entirely disappear from his life after
this private meeting.

   But all this he flatly rejected and in a fiasco of immaturity I declared
that I'd given up on life and found myself in a psychiatrist's office.

   Dr.  Blake was more messed up than I was.  He made a career of
counseling gay kids.  He would always sit immediately beside me on the
couch, regularly put his arm around me and always insisted on warm hugs
before and after each session.  His repeated advice was to get myself laid
by a nice gay boy and then I would forget all about Kyle.  I was certain
Dr. Blake had no clue what he was talking about and suspected that perhaps
HE should be paying ME for our sessions with all the groping going on.

   Dr.  Blake, I'm sad to say, took his own life some time later, long
after I had given up on our sessions having discovered the vastly superior
benefits of support-group therapy.

   OUT

   My first evening at the gay support group offered me my first cognizant
contact with other gays and lesbians.  It was wonderfully liberating. 
After the meeting the group headed out to the local gay bar, as was their
custom.  I was underage so I started walking to the bus stop instead when
one of the fellows came up behind me and invited me out for coffee.  Paul
was older, unattractive (in my judgement) and seemed a little slick in
personality but being so eager to have someone to talk to, I went with him.

   We wound up at the apartment he shared with his dad and went straight to
his bedroom, coffee apparently forgotten.  He assured me rather pointedly
that we would not be disturbed by his dad.  I wasn't at all concerned about
that and wondered why he hadn't introduced us (god, I was naive).  We
listened to music and talked.  At one point he looked at my lap and said,
"Nice basket!  Want to have a picnic?"

   He then brandished some magazines of a quality I've never seen before or
since.  They contained extensive picture series of gorgeous teenagers (my
age) stripping naked and jerking off for the camera.  I was spellbound. 
Unfortunately my reverie was interrupted when Paul suddenly pressed his
face to mine and snaked his tongue down my throat.  A very unfortunate
first-kiss I must say.  I patiently waited for this to stop, regretfully
put the magazine down and stood up to leave.  He fell to his knees before
me, reached for the button of my jeans and said, "May I?"

   "Not tonight," said I.  "Let's wait til we get to know each other a bit
better, okay?" He graciously stood and walked me to the bus stop.  I had no
intention of getting to know him better and avoided him at every future
opportunity.

   I went home that night and in my room I fantasized about being one of
the magazine boys.  I stripped, imitated some of the poses I'd seen and
jerked off.



   At the next support group meeting I met two fellows, Danny and Pat. 
They were also new to the group and meeting each other for the first time.
Afterwards the three of us went for coffee - at a real coffee shop - and
became fast friends.  I was the glue that brought us together though I
didn't yet realize it.  I would later discover that each of them had
designs on me.

   Pat was a few years older.  Danny was my age and initially we became
quite close.  I wouldn't have guessed that it would actually be Pat that
would prove to be a truly marvelous person and a dear life-long friend.

   Danny was extremely outgoing, a bit of a 'queen' already at 17 and
highly promiscuous.  He'd borrow his dad's giant Buick and we'd drive the
two of us all over town.  He'd show me the cruising areas, not that I cared
to know, and make me listen to dreadful dance music.

   One night he took us to a dark area just off the road that overlooked
the city (not the place where I met Marilyn).  We sat close together on the
bench style front seat and talked about our problems and listened to the
radio.  He described something his mother used to do to make him sleepy
when putting him to bed at night.  He wanted to demonstrate and took my
hand and drew light ticklish circles on my palm with his finger.  It felt
good and I just relaxed and let him do it.

   "Would you mind if I take this a little further?" he asked.  This took
me entirely by surprise.  I was not attracted to him physically and never
suspected he thought of me that way.

   "Um, I guess not," I said.  He continued with my hand and then traveled
up and down my bare arm.  He rubbed my chest through the shirt then slipped
his hand under it and worked his way up my bare chest.  The sensations were
pleasant.  I was wearing athletic shorts (which were still rather short in
those days.  The longer style shorts - jammers, I believe they were called
at the time - were just beginning to come into fashion but were strictly
the domain of skateboarders!) He began tickling my thigh and then my inner
thigh.  His hand slipped inside the leg of my shorts and up the front of my
leg til he reached the liner of my shorts.

   My dick was rising and soon he found it through the liner.  He gave it a
brief squeeze and it became very hard indeed.  Danny 'ooh'ed and giggled.
He withdrew his hand and then crept forth again, this time going under the
liner and beneath my underwear.  He grazed through my pubes, tickled my
balls and then circled the base of my hard-on.

   I had my eyes closed, just enjoying the wild sensations.  He slowly ran
a single finger up the length of my dick and down again.

   "Do you mind if we take these off?" he asked, meaning the shorts.

   "Okay."

   "Shirt first, he said, and began rolling it up and off me.  I lifted my
arms and let it come off.  He trailed his fingers down my chest, smiling
with approval.  He grabbed the waistband of my shorts, I lifted my ass and
in a flash he had them - and my underwear - around my ankles.  He was all
smiles as he caressed my hard dick.

   "Are you embarrassed that I'm seeing you naked?" he whispered.

   "No," said I, though I was, but just a bit.

   "Move over," he directed.  I slid closer to the passenger door.  He
wanted room to bend over.  "May I give you your first blow job?" he asked,
grinning sweetly.  I just nodded.

   Down he went.

   It was heavenly.  I never imagined anything could feel that good.  He
took it all the way.  He was talented.  His tongue was everywhere.  One
hand played with my balls.  He tried to force the other under my butt. 
When I realized what he wanted I lifted up for a second so he could get his
hand under my ass.

   On the radio, Fleetwood Mac's current hit 'Big Love' was playing.  He
alternately blew me and jerked me off for the duration of another
half-dozen songs.  I used to be able to name them all.

   Though it felt awesome I couldn't seem to come no matter how I tried. 
It was some kind of sensation overload.  I apologized.

   "Don't be sorry!" he said.  "I'm in no hurry.  I'm still enjoying this!"
But he was on a strict curfew because his dad worked night shift at the
mill and needed the car.  We did have to quit.

   "I want to see you come," he said.  "Will you jerk yourself off?" I
thought that was a good idea and he sat back and watched while I stroked
it. Still I couldn't come.  I was mystified.

   "What's different?" he asked.  "How do you normally do it at home?"

   "I just get naked and lie down and do it."

   "Do you need to lie down?  Do you need to get naked?"

   "No, I sit sometimes, and I'm practically naked already."

   "Not quite," Danny declared and pulled my shorts off my ankles along
with shoes and socks.  Then he even took my wristwatch off!  He sucked me
some more then took my hand and placed it around my cock.  I jerked off
again while he stroked my chest and legs and I came.  I've never been one
to shoot very far but this one popped about 15 inches.  More dribbled out
and down went Danny to gobble it up.

   Afterwards he asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend.  I felt really sad
for him and told him that I just didn't feel that way about him.  He seemed
okay with that.



   For the next couple months Danny and I got together frequently.  Any
time one of us could borrow our parents' car we would end the night by
parking somewhere remote.  He would strip me naked, blow me and watch me
whack off.  Sometimes he'd get me to open my door and stand just outside so
he could sit on the side edge of the seat and fondle my butt.

   Just to be fair I asked him a couple of times what I could do to help
him get off but he always turned me down.

   One night I slept over in Danny's large basement bedroom with him.  His
parents didn't yet know he was gay.  Pat was meeting us early the next
morning at Danny's place to take us golfing - something neither Danny or I
had done before.

   He stripped me and worshipped my dick.  I jerked off and then we slept
together, me naked, in his somewhat small bed - my first time sleeping with
a gay guy.  He cuddled me from behind with his arm around me.  He confessed
that he'd always wanted to do that.  I felt him getting an erection.  I
reached down and held it for a bit but he shooed me away.

   He also let me in on a secret - that Pat was jealous of him for spending
so much time with me and that Pat wanted me for himself.  This took me by
surprise.

   The next morning we were awakened by Pat's voice calling to us.  Danny's
mom had let him in the house and sent him down to Danny's room.  I flew out
of the bed, still naked, dragging a blanket and pillow with me.  Pat had no
idea that Danny and I had been fooling around and I hoped to keep it that
way.  I threw myself onto a small couch right by the door and just managed
to get the blanket across my midsection when Pat came through the door
laughing and telling us to rise and shine.  I acted like I had slept on the
couch and was just awakening.

   I couldn't help notice that Pat was eyeing my exposed chest and legs. 
So I figured Danny's report might be true.



   Gay Pride Day was approaching, the first such occasion since I emerged
from the closet.  Pat and I agreed to attend the weekend festivities
together and to split a hotel room.

   On the eve of parade day we journeyed from the suburbs to the big city
and hit the gay bars.  Legal age was 19.  I was just a year away but didn't
look it.  I was thin and smooth-skinned but I was able to get by the
bouncers most of the time by entering among a group of older friends and by
wearing a carefully studied expression on my face that made me look a
little older according to my friends' assurances.

   Once inside I always received plenty of stares and free drinks but I
never encouraged the strangers that approached me.  I tried to act like I
didn't want the attention but for a teenager who'd been pretty shy and
self-conscious as a child it was quite an ego-boost to be getting so much
attention.  Mind you, at that time there weren't many teenagers coming out
of the closet so I was monopolizing a pretty large share of that market. 
These days there's a plethora of teenagers in the bars and some of them are
awfully cute!

   Pat and I had requested a two-bed hotel room.  It came with just one
queen-size bed (no pun intended) but we didn't mind sharing.

   I awoke in the middle of the night to discover hands on me.  He was
touching my back and my ass - through my underwear.  I stayed still and
silent and let him do it.

   He crept stealthily out of bed and went into the bathroom for quite some
time but on the way he stopped at the foot of the bed and played with my
bare feet for a while.  That's when I learned that I wasn't the only person
in the world with a liking for feet.



   I must explain something.  I'm probably coming across as some kind of
narcissist or exhibitionist as I relate these encounters which so far, all
seem to center around my own body.  But here's what you must understand. 
My feelings about sex, similar to those about love, have never leaned
toward any kind of reciprocity.  My instincts have always dictated that sex
and love are about one worshipful admirer and one beautiful beloved.  To me
it's a one-way street.

   Here's the kicker: I've never wanted to be the beloved.  I've only ever
wanted to be the admirer.  I've always wanted to be the provider and the
protector.  Does that seem a little pederastic?  I was without a father
during my early formative years so that may have something to do with it.

   So why was I playing the opposite role at that time in my life?  Because
I was yet to meet someone beautiful who would let me worship them.  All my
desires still centered around Kyle, the unattainable straight boy.  I
played the role of the beloved instead of the admirer because it was the
only role available.  In those days all I could do was to live vicariously
through those who admired me.  And frankly I wanted to be kind.  Why deny
someone the pleasure they wanted while I was trying to find someone willing
to extend that very favor to me?  It would have been hypocritical!



   I fell in with a small crowd of slightly older handsome gay elitists. 
They were rather snobby and careful about whom they allowed into their
little clique.  They were fashionable and political and I realized quickly
that I didn't fit in with this crowd and didn't really want to.

   I was ready to sever my inclusion but the silliest thing happened.  A
struggling semi-professional dancer, one of the clique, invited me to hang
out with him one evening - just the two of us.  We spent a long late night
together just driving around, walking around and talking about our
often-difficult lives.  His unlikely name, Tristan Castlebrook seemed
somehow pretentious to me and in hindsight I suspect it may have been the
result of a legal name change - perhaps for the benefit of his dancing
career.  Either way it matched his rather calculated personality.

   As the sun was about to rise we returned to his apartment building.  In
the lobby we said our good-byes and as it was the custom in the group to
give good-bye hugs I asked,

   "Is this place too public for a hug?"

   "Not at all," he replied.  "Is it too public for a kiss?" I was floored.
He had this sparkling grin on his face and I realized, somewhat horrified
that this whole thing had been a date.  The crazy thing is - I was too
embarrassed to admit my mistake.  He kissed me deeply and guided me up to
his tiny apartment.

   I'd been a little ashamed of the exhibitionistic sessions with Danny so
I'd kept it secret.  Tristan made the assumption that I was still a virgin
and was beside himself with delight at the prospect of unraveling my
cherry. I played along.  Who was I to disappoint him?

   He undressed me reverently.  He caressed and kissed and licked my body
while I squirmed beneath his eager hands and lips.  His de-robing was an
afterthought.  His dick was quite big and I jerked it for him now and then
but he didn't want to come.  He said that was his way with sex.  He never
wanted the arousal to end while he was with a partner so he would only come
by masturbating later, when alone and re-living the encounter in his
imagination.

   I, on the other hand, came several times.  Once in his mouth and often
in his hand.  Tristan was an exquisite masturbator.  He had magic fingers.
Oral and anal may be the popular flavors of gay sex but the hand jobs I got
from him provided some of the most euphoric, torturous mind-blowing orgasms
I've ever had.

   We actually became boyfriends for no other reason then my being too
embarrassed to admit the misunderstanding concerning our 'date'.  It sounds
crazy but it's true.  And the fault was apparently mine because it turned
out the whole group found it obvious that Tristan was after me since
day-one.  I hadn't realized it.

   Despite my mother's protests I spent a few over-nights at his place.  He
loved slobbering all over me and I felt good fulfilling his fantasies - or
so I perceived.  I never thought I might be hurting him.

   I became worried as I realized how much he was falling for me.  I knew I
had to break it off before it got out of hand.  I did so.  He begged me not
to leave him.  He said he'd never been so happy in his life.  I felt sick
about it.  We had our last dinner together.  I drove away while he stood on
the sidewalk staring at me with the most sorrowful expression I've ever
seen.  Whether it was genuine or an act, I don't know.  Everything was a
show with him.

   Twice in the next ten years I ran into him and we just laughed about how
infatuated he had been - saying how juvenile it all was.

   I'll never run into him again.  He's gone.  He went the same way as Dr
Blake.  I guess he got tired of living a pretend life and was too afraid of
trying to live a real one - so he just called it quits.



   Things were difficult at home.  The gay issue was a bit of a problem but
I blew it all out of proportion.  I quit high-school, got a crappy job and
moved out.  Although part of it was just that I had to get away from Kyle.
My infatuation with him was fucking up both our lives.  I rented a room
from a single gay man.  For the record, that relationship remained strictly
landlord-tenant.



   I dated a couple more guys in rapid succession.  Then finally I met
someone that was gay, my age and that I was attracted to!

   I'd heard all about Ted before I actually met him.  Danny fell in lust
with him and told me all about him.  Danny had secretly been giving him
occasional blow-jobs, which he was also doing for me again as I wasn't
dating at the time.  Finally Ted and I met a couple of times in group
social situations and we seemed to hit it off pretty well.

   Then we got together for a movie - just the two of us.  It was a Sunday
evening and afterwards we went to his small apartment and stayed up all
night just talking.  As morning arrived we finally confessed our mutual
attraction to one another, agreed to be boyfriends, kissed good-bye and
went to work.

   Monday evening we got right back together and were naked in bed in no
time.  He had a great body, not really thin as I normally preferred but
very firm and toned and smooth.  Oh and he had nice feet too.  Everything
was mutual this time.  We sucked and fondled and kissed endlessly.  It was
the best reciprocal sex I've ever had.  He knew about my fetish and would
rub my dick with his toes sometimes.  It felt awesome.

   When Danny found out about Ted and I it ended our friendship.  He was
jealous.  I guess he felt I betrayed him somehow.  Perhaps I did.  I'm not
a saint.  But Ted meant a lot to me.  He was cute and sexy and the sex and
the cuddling were great and I'd never experienced anything like this.  I
wanted to spend my life with him.  I couldn't choose Danny's friendship
over Ted's love.

   Ted asked me to fuck him.  I did but just once.  I didn't really like
it. He tried to fuck me.  It hurt too much and we never tried again.



   We were walking through a shopping mall one evening when we ran into two
of Ted's friends.  One of them was a 23-year old fellow named Gerald.  I
actually have no remembrance of this event whatsoever but I know it
happened.  Gerald was destined to play a major role in my life and he still
talks about the time at the mall where he first laid eyes on me.



   Ted moved to Baltimore temporarily - for university.  I had a job with
odd shifts that afforded me a five-day weekend every third week.  This was
the only time I could spend with him.  It was a long trip - the furthest
I'd ever been from home.  The first time I showed up it took all of 30
seconds to find ourselves up in his room naked.  We climbed all over each
other.  We could sixty-nine all night those days and we were good at it
too. We had rhythm!  He had an awesome dick.

   My second visit, three weeks later, was very painful.  The second night
there we went out to a local gay bar with a new friend of Ted's named
Lance. While we sat in the bar I saw the door open and if my eyes did not
deceive me - in walked Kyle.  Kyle - the object of all my desires - in a
gay bar in another state.  It was utterly surreal.

   But it was not Kyle at all.  It was a local young gay fellow who looked
so much like Kyle - and Craig of course - they could have been triplets. 
It was haunting.

   I was devastated.  The urge to go and speak to this gorgeous boy was
overwhelming.  But what on earth could I say?  The truth would have sounded
like the worst pick-up line ever.  And what about Ted?  I couldn't do that
to him.  I kept quiet.  The boy was soon being pawed over by some older man
and I kept silent about everything.

   Our last full night together Ted and I lay in his bed and he made a
confession.  He and Lance had been sleeping together.  I was devastated all
over again.  The relationship was over.  I know now that no male anywhere
is fully capable of monogamy or faithfulness.  For each and every man there
is some level of temptation that he can not resist.  It's true.  But I
didn't know that then.  I was naive.  I was idealistic.  I wasn't mad but I
was hurt.  I was crushed.  I knew I'd miss him.  We held each other and
cried together.

   The next evening I packed the car to head home.  But when I left I
didn't go straight home.  I called the Baltimore 'gayline' for a list of
gay bars and their addresses and I stalked them all evening.  I completed
the circuit twice.  I had to find this Kyle-look-alike.  I had to tell him
he was beautiful.  He deserved to know.  And if he'd show any interest in
me at all - I'd have packed my belongings and moved to Baltimore - just for
a shot at being his boyfriend.  He was that beautiful.  But I never found
him and that's probably for the best.  He probably would have thought I was
some kind of psycho.

   GERALD

   Ted and I stayed in touch and we even hooked up for quick sex on a few
occasions.  I decided at this time that I would never under any
circumstances ever have a boyfriend again!  I was dead serious.

   I was 19 then and had my own tiny bachelor apartment.  The rent was $230
a month!  Ted called me one Saturday just to say hi and as he did I was
pondering a large piece of artwork that I needed to return to the art
gallery.  It wouldn't fit in my little old Nissan.

   "Call Gerald or Dale," suggested Ted.  They were twin brothers - tall
and thin with a lot of body hair but receding on top already.  They had
pleasant handsome faces.  I'd met Gerald at the mall, you'll recall, though
I didn't realize it.  Gerald had a jeep and Dale a pick-up truck.

   "Naw, I don't really know them very well - to be asking favors," said I.

   "Trust me," urged Ted, "Either of them would be very happy to do you a
favor." He was insistent.  He knew something I didn't.  He gave me their
phone numbers."

   I was tight for options.  I knew Dale a little better of the two. 
Though I found his manner rather intense and felt a little nervous around
him, I gave Dale a call.  He wasn't home.

   Gerald was.  He dropped everything and came straight over to pick up
myself and the painting.

   Task done I invited him in for a coffee but he revealed he had to go
catch a plane!  He was just packing for his vacation when I'd called.  I
was shocked he did me this favor at such a time!

   He took a rain check on the coffee and two weeks later he flew back home
and wasted no time cashing it in.  We became instant friends.  He started
visiting almost every evening.  He knew how I felt - about wanting to be
single - and it was torturing him.  He wanted me in the worst way and I had
no idea.

   One day as he visited I was barefoot.  I knelt on the couch in order to
reach for something behind it and all of a sudden he rushed up behind me,
bent down and planted a sloppy kiss on the sole of my foot.  He passed it
off as a joke but I knew better.  I realized two things.  One - there were
now at least three people in the world with a thing for feet - and two,
Gerald had some kind of feelings toward me.

   I was determined to just stay friends but Gerald was a charmer, a real
pro.  He laid it on thick and I started to fall for him.

   We'd been buddies a few months when he talked me into vacationing with
him in Florida.  I insisted the hotel rooms have two beds.  I was still
resistant to the idea of a boyfriend.

   We had a great time.  It was my first proper vacation.  After the first
night we never used the second bed.  Gerald was (and still is) very
sexually adventurous.  He rimmed my ass.  He licked my feet and sucked my
toes.  He took me shopping for dirty magazines.  He had us taking photos of
each other in the hotel room, naked and jerking off.  We both have copies
still!  We took candid photos of young shirtless strangers on the street.
He was wild and youthful and giddy and he would be my boyfriend for the
next 13 years.  And in that time we would find all sorts of trouble to get
in to!

   LIFE WITH GERALD

   Gerald continued to visit me almost every night.  Sometimes we'd stay
naked the whole evening, having sex every so often - mostly sucking and
jerking each other off.  He bought some very arousing porno tapes featuring
18-19 year-old actors and left then at my place.  He still lived with his
parents.

   He had very prominent exhibitionist tendencies.  One night we slept over
at our friend Pat's apartment (the same Pat from part-2).  We slept on a
mattress on his living room floor.  The next morning after our host was up
and about we remained in 'bed' in our underwear.

   Gerald tossed the covers back, yanked down my undies and jerked me off
'til I came.  After a brief respite he did it again, and then again!  It
seemed like he was determined to keep doing this until Pat walked in and
caught us.  Eventually he brought me to my fifth orgasm of the morning! 
The volume I discharged wouldn't have filled a thimble.  At this point I
think he was going for some kind of world record but I couldn't take any
more.



   We spent a night at a hotel in a neighboring city.  Oddly I can't
remember what the occasion was.  We went for a swim in the hotel's indoor
pool and then returned to the change room.  We were the only ones in there.
I dropped my trunks, dried off and sat on the bench with my towel in my
lap.

   Without any word or warning Gerald squatted before me, threw the towel
aside, grabbed my dick and thrust it in his mouth.  He was a darn good
cock-sucker and still is.  He had me on the brink in no time when suddenly
we heard the door open.  Thank goodness, as with most dressing rooms there
was a short wall in front of the door to block the view from outside the
room.  Gerald jumped away from me and I reached for the towel.  A man came
around the corner before I could cover up my hard-on.  Whether he noticed
it, I don't know.  The man used the urinal and left.  Gerald took my hand,
led me into the sauna and finished blowing me.



   Another time we were alone in a different hotel pool and we took turns
sucking each other under the water.  He could hold his breath for more than
a minute, which I found astonishing!



   We found a much nicer apartment and moved in together.  He told me all
about his somewhat unusual childhood.  He'd always been an exhibitionist
and loved to streak as a kid.  He told me how he'd sneak out the back door
at night, strip naked and run all over town.  He would dash across major
well-lit streets and creep down alleys.  He would have a hard-on almost all
the time.  He rode his bike naked through residential streets.  He did this
constantly through all his pubescent and teenage years.  He was only caught
once and ran away as someone called to him.



   His first sexual encounter happened at 17 when he found himself alone in
a house with the 15-year-old brother of a friend.  The boy, apparently
straight was nonetheless rather uninhibited and seemed to have pegged
Gerald as a homo.  While lying on the couch on his stomach he asked Gerald
to scratch his back for him.  Gerald was more than happy to comply as he
found the kid quite attractive.  He knelt beside the couch and dragged his
fingernails over the boy's shirt.

   "Gerry, I wish you were a girl!" said the kid, to Gerald's surprise.  He
wasn't sure what to think.

   "Scratch my bum," he then requested.  Gerald happily obeyed, scratching
the boy's firm ass through his track-pants.

   "No, not like that."

   Gerald changed pace.

   "No," the boy protested, "Do it slow.  Nice."

   Finally Gerald understood.  He was no longer scratching at all.  He was
rubbing the kid's butt with the palm of his hand.  It had become a rather
erotic massage.  The kid had his arms folded below his forehead, burying
his face.

   "Underneath," he mumbled.

   Gerald's heart skipped a beat.  Had he heard that right?  He slipped his
fingers beneath the waistband of the track pants.  Taking a chance, he also
slipped them beneath the underwear.  There were no objections.  Soon he was
liberally groping the boy's firm narrow ass, skin on silky smooth skin.

   The kid began to grind his pelvis rather subtly into the couch.  He
reached back with both hands, took hold of his track pants and undies and
pushed them down a bit, then went back to hiding his face.  Gerald took up
the task.  He grabbed the waistbands and tugged them down further, baring a
beautiful smooth butt.  The boy raised himself, reached beneath himself and
freed the front of his pants from 'whatever' they'd been snagged on. 
Gerald was pretty sure what appendage that might have been!  He now feasted
on the sight before him while his fingers continued to rub, squeeze and
tickle the boy's smooth bare ass.  Now and then he would run his finger
down between the kid's legs towards his balls.  The kid apparently liked
that and spread his legs a bit in encouragement.

   All of a sudden the kid raised himself and shifted, rolling to his side
so that he faced the back of the couch and his butt faced Gerald.

   Gerald continued the exploration, now and then trailing his fingers up
over the naked hip prompting the kid to emit a brief, barely audible moan.
Now he was rolling over more and Gerald peered over the bare hip to spy a
beautiful hard dick with a thin stream of ejaculate dangling from it.

   Gerald yearned to touch it but wasn't sure if his caresses were welcome
there.  He instead crept toward the testicles.  He was indeed welcomed
there.  The kid finished rolling over, keeping one forearm covering his
eyes.  His butt was now buried in the couch, no longer accessible but his
lovely dick and balls were on display.

   Gerald fondled his balls, occasionally touching the root of his dick. 
Finally he dared to run his fingers right up the length of the erection and
the boy emitted another quiet moan.  That was all the encouragement Gerald
needed and he began to lovingly explore the kid's hard-on.  He couldn't
believe the amount of pre-cum flowing from the tip.  Gerald's hand and the
boy's dick were soon coated in it.  At the telling of this story to me,
Gerald referred to the boy as a 'pre-cum machine'!

   Gerald laid his head on the boy's flat belly so that his nose was almost
touching the head of the kid's gorgeous dick.  As a string of pre-cum began
to descend he reached out with his tongue to try to intercept it.  The boy
then spoke up.

   "Slob my knob!" he ordered.  Gerald was thrilled.  He opened wide and
engulfed his first dick; a 15-year-old salty cum-covered dick.  He was
instantly addicted.  He'd never given a blow-job before but was determined
to thrill the boy.  He worshipped that cock as best he could and was soon
rewarded with a mouthful of warm cum.

   Resting his head on the boy's abdomen, he kept the cum in his mouth
along with the head of the slowly softening dick.  Some of the cum dribbled
out of his mouth.  He wasn't sure if he should be swallowing it or not.

   Finally he pulled away, went to the bathroom and spit his reward into
the sink.  He washed it down and rinsed out his mouth.  That was the only
time he spat.  He would become forevermore a swallower with the next
blow-job he would give.

   He grabbed some tissues, returned to the boy and lovingly mopped up his
genitals.  The kid had his eyes covered the whole time.

   "You'd better go," he said, regret in his voice.

   Gerald left and rarely saw the boy after that.  It seemed he was
avoiding him.  Another day when he was visiting his friend he went upstairs
to use the bathroom.  He saw the boy's bedroom door was closed.  He tapped
on it lightly.  The door opened.

   "What do you want?"

   "I want to give you a blow job," Gerald whispered.  The door closed in
his face.  It wouldn't happen again.



   After Gerald and I had been together a couple years I began to be
aroused at the thought of his streaking and asked for a performance.  He
was delighted to do so.  Many times when we were out late we'd stop at a
public park or some place.  We'd go for a walk and he'd get naked and jerk
off.  It's rather lucky we never got caught.  In one sense I almost wanted
to get caught.  What use was exhibitionism if no one was around to see?

   One time while Gerald was sitting on the couch in a pair of shorts I
asked him if he'd ever fantasized about exhibiting himself in front of live
people - our friends or what not.  I'd been having those thoughts myself
for a while (of exhibiting him that is, not myself).  Gerald responded by
pulling his dick out the leg of his shorts, waving it around and playfully
saying,

   "Oh, hi Pat, how's it going?" I was instantly aroused.  I knew we could
find people interested in a show.  Gerald had a decent body; trim, somewhat
sculpted and he'd been keeping it smooth through electrolysis and shaving.

   We had started to chum around a little bit with a neighbor; an older man
named Phil who had proved our suspicions true by admitting he was gay. 
Gerald had an inkling the man was attracted to him.  We put a plan into
action.

   Phil came over one evening for drinks.  Gerald was dressed in a pair of
short shorts, no underwear, and we'd cut the liner out!  In our living room
we had a couch against the wall and a love seat in the middle of the room,
facing the couch.  Phil took a seat on the love seat so Gerald sat on the
couch directly across from him.  I sat beside Gerald.  Our plan worked
perfectly.  I made all the drinks that night which gave me plenty of
excuses to walk in and out of the room by passing behind the love seat and
thus seeing exactly what view Phil was getting.

   It was quite a view.  Sometimes just the head of his dick was visible,
sometimes more.  I was told later that he would get semi-hard whenever he'd
spy Phil giving his crotch a good look, but nervousness prevented him from
going fully hard.

   Eventually Gerald broke the tension.

   "Phil, I think Chad has something to ask you!" (Chad is me, but not my
real name of course).

   "You ask him," I said.  I was too embarrassed to do the talking.

   "Are you sure?" Gerald wanted me to have control of things.  He didn't
want to go too far without being sure I wouldn't end up jealous or
regretful.  But I was ready.

   "Yes.  Go ahead.  Ask him."

   "Chad has a fantasy about me being naked in front of people.  He wants
to know if you'd be our audience."

   "Sure I would," said Phil with a grin.  "I figured something was up. 
But I'm out of smokes.  Let me grab another pack.  I'll be right back."

   Phil left.  I was feverish with excitement.  I practically tackled
Gerald and we kissed deeply while I groped his dick.  He was hard in no
time.

   "Are you excited about this?" I asked.

   "Of course.  Are you sure you're okay with this?"

   "Of course," said I.

   "Okay, well stop that or I'm gonna cum already!" I released him and went
to make fresh drinks.

   Soon we were all reassembled in the living room.

   "Should I strip or what?" asked Gerald, looking at me.

   "No, I'll do it for you." Off came his socks.  Off came his T-shirt.  I
fondled his dick through the liner-less shorts.  He was good and hard.  He
lifted his butt.  I dragged the shorts off him.  We had Phil's rapt
attention as he smoked his cigarette.  I stroked Gerald's dick while he lay
back on the couch, arms folded behind his head.

   "Do you want to touch it?" I asked Phil.

   "I thought you'd never ask!" he replied.  He snubbed out the cigarette
and came to sit on the floor beside the couch.  Gerald was wide-eyed.  We'd
never discussed the idea of someone actually touching him.

   "Are you sure that's okay?" he said to me.

   "Yes.  Everything's fine." Phil stroked Gerald's dick while Gerald just
lay back and soaked up the attention.

   "May I suck it?" asked Phil.  Gerald went wide-eyed again.

   "Sure!  Go ahead," said I.  Phil sucked it.  He took it all the way.  He
was good at it, better than I.  I could tell.  Gerald came in his mouth. 
He swallowed.

   Phil thanked us and left.  I whipped out my dick and jerked off as
Gerald fondled my nuts.

   We had Phil over a few more times.  Gerald rarely wasted time stripping
down for his hand-job and his blow-job.

   Gerald and I moved away.  We bought a house together and Phil only
visited once before we lost touch with him, but we found quite a few other
friends who were happy to watch Gerald's show, and in some cases to
participate in much the same way Phil did.

   Our home would also be the scene of a number of other rather unusual
encounters over the next 7 years...

   THE INCREDIBLE TRAVIS

   I answered a newspaper ad.  A recreational indoor (arena) soccer team
needed a few players.  I was invited to try out.  At the arena I was
introduced to a handful of players including an extraordinarily beautiful
teenager named Travis.  He was about 5' 8'', smooth skinned with an
adorably cute face and a very slim but sturdy body.  He was a lightning
fast runner.

   After practice we hit the showers.  I saw Travis naked.  He was
stunning. The sight of his smooth little firm body took my breath away.  He
had the most adorable narrow pert little ass I've ever seen to this day.

   I made the team.

   After our fist league game we showered, dressed and gathered at a local
bar that sponsored the team.  Pitchers of beer flowed liberally.  The bar
keepers thought the soccer league was strictly 19-and-over (drinking age).
We didn't let on otherwise and several underage players drank all season.
Travis drank enthusiastically and being small, got drunk quickly.

   I spotted an old friend I hadn't seen since high school and I went to
talk to him.  While away from the table I heard quite a commotion from the
team - uproarious laughter and carrying on.

   I finally excused myself from the old friend and returned to the table.
Travis, quite drunk, leaned across the fellow sitting between us and said
loudly, "Hey Chad, come here, I wanna tell you a secret!"

   Who was I to decline the wishes of such a beautiful boy?  I dutifully
leaned towards him, presenting him my ear as our teammates quieted and
watched us.  His lips approached my ear and then - he kissed me on the
cheek!  The gang exploded with laughter.  I'd been had.  Apparently he'd
already snookered one or two others with this rather odd gag.

   "Look, he's smiling!  He liked it!" joked one of our teammates as he
pointed at me.  He didn't realize this was the truth.  I only regretted it
wasn't on the lips!

   After our second league game I was under the shower next to Travis when
he loudly announced, "Hey Chad, come here I've got a secret for you!" We
all laughed.  There was no kiss this time of course.



   A core group of us became good friends and sometimes the six of us would
gather at my place after the bar closed and drink some more.  Travis would
often walk all the way home from there in effort to sober up before getting
home.  His mother was very religious and not approving of alcohol -
underage or not.  Other times he would leave with his best friend John and
crash at his place.

   At one game John proposed to Travis that they just spend the night at my
place afterward as I'd offered on more than one occasion.  Travis agreed. I
was ecstatic.  I knew Gerry would approve as he'd met Travis and also found
him adorable.  The guys thought I was straight and Gerry was my roommate.

   But John and Travis's girlfriends had come to watch the game and decided
to come out with the team afterward.  It looked like our plans would not
come to be.  Travis ended up getting extremely drunk and got into an
argument with his girlfriend Sherry.  As we left the bar the argument got
out of control and suddenly Sherry was crying and Travis was marching away
down the street.  John and the others rushed to Sherry's side and I alone
followed Travis.  He was a mess - mentally that is.  He'd always behaved in
such a happy-go-lucky manner.  This was strange territory.  He said some
very disturbing things.  He said he should just kill himself.  This struck
me sharply.  I didn't know him well enough to realize this was nothing but
the ramblings of a drunk teenager.  I stepped in front of him, halting his
march and I took his sweet face in both my hands, forcing him to look at
me.

   "You're not gonna kill yourself," I said earnestly.  "There are people
who love you!" He looked at me wide-eyed.  I was referring to his mom and
girlfriend but deep down, I suddenly realized - I was talking about me.  I
worried for a moment I'd said too much.

   He stormed on and I followed along.  Somehow during his ranting he
kicked off one running shoe.  I rescued it and carried it for him.  I think
he was heading for home but I managed to steer him to my house.

   Gerry wasn't home yet.  Travis slumped down on the couch.  I poured him
a large glass of water but he wouldn't take it.  I sat beside him on the
couch.  He said mournful things.  I was scared.  I didn't know if he might
be suicidal.  He cried.  I put my arm around him.  He lay his head on my
shoulder.  I was overwhelmed by the tenderness of the moment.  Here I was
basically cuddling with the most beautiful boy I'd seen since Kyle - except
I was starting to fall for Travis in an even bigger way than I did with
Kyle.  And Travis was becoming even more beautiful to my eyes then Kyle had
been.

   The phone rang.  I went to it.  It was John.  He correctly guessed that
we'd came to my place.

   "Jesus Christ, John!  Is this kid suicidal or what?  You gotta get over
here!" John told me to relax.  He explained that this happens sometimes and
not to worry.  Travis was just drunk.  He wouldn't do anything crazy.  They
were taking Sherry home.  Travis was my responsibility alone.

   Travis had meanwhile stumbled to the bathroom.  I heard him puking into
the toilet.  When I finally got off the phone I found Travis lying on the
bathroom floor.  There was puke on his shirt and on the floor.  He was
pretty much out of it.  I pulled him to a sitting position and leaned him
against the tub.  Thankfully he was only 130 lbs and easy to manhandle. 
He'd somehow got a bit of vomit in his hair.

   "Come on buddy.  You're going in the shower." I pulled his shirt off
him. He was a rag doll.  He co-operated to the small degree his
semi-consciousness allowed.  I pulled his socks off him.  He had beautiful
feet - size 8 and very smooth.  I was stunned that I'd never really noticed
how cute his feet were before.

   "Come on, stand up!  Let's get your pants off!" I couldn't believe this
was happening.  I wrapped my arms around his sleek naked torso and lifted.
He cooperated.  I leaned him against the wall and unbuttoned his jeans.  I
dragged down the zipper.  My heart was beating like a hammer.  This crazy
episode was becoming the most erotic encounter I'd ever had.  I started to
pull his pants down.

   "I'm okay," he blurted.  He stumbled out of his jeans and struggled to
free himself from his white underwear while I 'spotted' him.  He was naked.
There wasn't one millimeter of space on his body I wouldn't be thrilled to
lick.  I'd have licked his puke off him if he'd offered!  He was that sexy.
I wrapped one arm around his narrow waist and turned on the water with the
other.

   I guided Travis under the spray.  The water hit my clothes.  It hit the
floor.  I couldn't have cared less.  I was prepared to stay there and hold
him.  I was prepared to wash him myself.  Good god, how I wanted to do
that.

   "I'm okay," he said again.  He was snapping out of it.  I left him to
wash himself.

   One of the couches pulled out into a bed.  I dressed it up with two
sheets.  No blankets.  It was warm in the house.

   He wandered into the room in just a towel and wet hair, looking
unbearably cute and sexy.

   "Where'm I sleepin?"

   "Right here."

   He dropped the towel and fell naked onto the bed.

   I went and gathered up his clothes - everything - and put them in the
laundry.  I went back upstairs to find Gerry home.  He stood staring at the
couch, mouth agape.

   "Is that Travis?" he gasped.

   "Yep."

   "He's naked!"

   "Yep."

   "You stripped him naked?  Are you crazy?  What's he gonna think when he
wakes up?"

   I explained the situation.  Gerry went to bed.  I stayed up to stare at
Travis's body and jerk off.  I came several times.

   The next morning I found Travis sitting at the kitchen table wearing
just a sheet.  He didn't remember a single thing from the night before.  I
told him everything - except the jerking off of course.

   "So was I walking around here naked?" he asked, grinning adorably.

   "No." - not nearly for long enough, I wanted to add but refrained.

   I fetched his clothes from the laundry.  He dropped the sheet and
dressed right in front of me.  I tried not to stare.



   I was now officially infatuated with Travis.  His face, his body, his
sweet demeanor.  I loved everything about him.  I desperately wished to
spend another night alone with him but there was no prospect for that to
happen.  I came up with a plan.  It was devious.  I'm not proud of this.

   Travis is a New York Giants fan.  I bought tickets- Giants vs. 
Redskins. I paid a fortune for them.  And if the plan failed it would mean
a lot of hard-earned money up in smoke.

   We were out drinking after our soccer game as usual.  I told him a
co-worker had Giants tickets he didn't want and offered them to me because
I'm a Redskins fan.  This was all a lie.  Travis was thrilled.  He wanted
to go.  He'd never been to an NFL game before.  It would be a long drive, I
explained.  I wanted to get a hotel room.  I would pay for it.  He was
agreeable.  I was thrilled.  I went out and bought a Redskins jersey.



   I don't remember much of the game.  I bought us plenty of beers and
watched Travis get drunk.  We partied after the game and eventually cabbed
it to the hotel.  I'd made sure to get a room with one bed only.  He slept
in just his white underwear.  I cherished the experience of lying beside
him in bed.  I was too afraid to touch him.

   In the morning we watched TV in bed.  He lay on top of the covers, still
in just his undies.  He leaned against the headboard with his right foot
flat on the bed, his right knee up and his left ankle crossed over his
right knee.  I lay to his right and I stared at the sole of his foot for
the longest time.  This boy had the cutest face, sexiest body, sweetest
butt and cutest feet I'd ever seen.  He was a walking jackpot of sexuality.
It was all overwhelming.



   Travis and I were becoming good friends.  I was falling ever so much in
love with him.  I confessed this to Gerald.  He didn't mind at all.  He was
also entranced with Travis's adorable looks and sexy body and urged me to
take advantage of any situation I could.

   I dreamed of being Travis's best friend.  I dreamed of being able to
take him in my arms and hug him.  I dreamed of being privileged to rub his
feet.  I couldn't imagine being so lucky as to have any of these things
come true.  Little did I know.

   I came out of the closet to John and to Travis.  Both were totally cool
with it but urged me not to tell anyone else on the team.

   The Jersey trip for a Giants game would become a tradition.  The next
season we got to two games.  At the first game Travis joined me in the
hotel lobby when I went in to register.  The bastard at the desk saw that
our room had just one bed and offered us a room with two beds.  Same price.
Travis was right there, so I was forced to agree.  I was heartbroken.

   He got very drunk again.  Back at the hotel he stripped off his shirt
and laid down on the bed - on top of the covers.  He was passed out in no
time.  I was frightfully nervous.  I knew what I had to do.  I carefully
laid down on his bed beside him.  I was uncontrollably nervous.  My heart
was pounding so hard I imagined it was shaking the whole bed.  I couldn't
seem to calm myself.  I wanted so bad to somehow cuddle with him but what
would he do if he awoke and caught me in his bed?

   All of a sudden he was awake and throwing up!  He didn't even notice my
presence until I grabbed him and lifted him upright.  He soiled that bed
something awful!

   He showered and emerged in just his underwear - boxers now.  I invited
him to share my bed.  I'd rolled all his sheets into a ball and stuffed
them in the far corner of the room but his mattress was damp.  He accepted.
These were smaller beds.  He fell asleep.  I rolled onto my side facing
him. I put my arm around him.  I loved it.  I must have laid awake for an
hour gently holding him.

   He awoke suddenly.  I pretended to be asleep.  He took my wrist and
gently lifted my arm off him and slipped out of bed to use the bathroom. 
He never said anything about my arm being around him.



   We continued playing soccer the next season.  After a game Travis alone
came to my place.  Gerry was out.  We didn't drink.  We just talked.  He
was going to stay the night and removed his shirt as he got ready for bed.
I desperately wanted to share that pull-out couch with him.

   I became very emotional.  I confessed my love for him.  I cried and
cried.  He was very understanding.  He wasn't like Kyle at all.

   "I'd give anything to hug you," I said through tears.  "Anything."

   "Okay," he said.  I couldn't believe it.  I invited him to put his shirt
back on.  I wanted to demonstrate that it wasn't about sex - even though to
a large degree it was.  He didn't bother re-dressing.  I wrapped a thin bed
sheet around him and then I put my arms around him.  It was the sweetest
thing that had ever happened to me.  I held him tight.  He hugged me back.

   "You don't have to hug me back," I said.

   "That's okay," he said.  I held him close.  I wanted him to feel the
tenderness.  I wanted him to feel the sincerity.  It felt to me that my
poor overburdened heart was finally releasing this tremendous mass of love
that was running through my arms and into him.  I wanted him to feel that
love.

   "I don't want to let go," I pleaded.

   "That's okay," he said.  He was so kind to me.  He's not gay, if that's
what you're thinking.  I've never doubted he's straight.  But while he has
a lot of hang-ups and insecurities about certain things, he's always been
entirely comfortable with his body and with all things sexual.

   I caressed the back of his head and his neck.  I kissed him on the cheek
and finally pulled away.  This was the first of many many hugs and that
wasn't the only liberty he would eventually grant me.



   At the next Giants game we managed four tickets and John and Gerald came
along.  Only John got particularly drunk.  The next morning Travis was in
the shower when Gerald proposed we fill the ice bucket with cold water and
dump it over Travis for a joke.  I guess we weren't quiet enough about it
and Travis caught on.  As Gerald approached the shower, Travis whipped the
curtain back and tried to upset the bucket onto Gerald.  They both got
doused.  Gerald took the worst of it, getting his clothes wet but he was
thrilled to finally see Travis's dick and wrestle with a gorgeous naked
boy.

   Gerald and I shared a lodge in cottage country with three other couples,
two gay and one straight.  We were all great friends.  We spent most of our
summer weekends their.  John and Travis and their girlfriends rarely
visited us there.  They were just teenagers after all and my lodge buddies
ranged from early 20's to early 40's at the time.

   But John and Travis's group began to disintegrate.  Both of them broke
up with their girlfriends.  Then their friendship turned sour.  Travis had
been fired from his job and blamed John (they were co-workers) for having a
part in it.  The others in the gang sided with John.  I sided with Travis
naturally.  The feud became serious.  We were ostricized, cut from the
soccer team.  I was thrilled!  I wouldn't miss them one bit.  This brought
Travis and I much closer together.  I became his only close friend.  We
found another soccer team who took us on.  I asked Travis one day if we
were best friends.  He said yes.  I was euphoric.  I hugged him tenderly.

   He started visiting us at the lodge more often and became friends with
all our gay friends.  They teased me about Travis.  They knew damn well I
had a thing for him.

   "He looks 14!" they would tell me.  They were right.  Travis was a very
late developer physically.

   During one visit to the lodge I sat at one end of a couch while he sat
at the other.  I told him to give me his foot and I would give him a foot
rub.  It had taken me a long time to find the courage to propose this and I
was very sad when he declined.

   During another visit he lay on the couch with his eyes closed.  I
couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not.  I moved fast.  I grabbed his
ankle, lifted it, turned and sat with his small socked foot in my lap and
began to massage it.  He opened his eyes, looked at me and closed them
again.  He didn't object!

   I was so turned on and so nervous I thought I would have a heart attack.
My face was burning.  I must have been blushing something awful.  After
rubbing his foot and toes through his white sock for a while and absolutely
loving every moment of it, I put it down and grabbed the other foot.  Heart
beating wildly I summoned all the courage I could muster and pulled off the
sock.  His warm smooth foot in my hands turned me on like nothing ever
before in my life.  I lovingly rubbed, caressed and fondled every toe and
every inch of his foot and ankle.  Then I put the sock back on for him.

   "Thank you," was all he said.  I went to the bathroom and dropped my
pants.  My shorts were full of pre-come even though I didn't recall having
an erection during the footrub.  I jerked off and came quickly.  I kept
jerking off and came again.



   The next Friday I arrived at the lodge without Gerald.  He had stopped
coming regularly.  But that evening he showed up unexpectedly with Travis
in tow.  Travis had phoned our home looking for me and asking if he could
come to the lodge for the whole weekend!  Knowing how much it would mean to
me, Gerald brought him up.  We all hit the booze pretty hard.  Travis was
drunk and I was on cloud nine, knowing he would probably share my bed that
night.  I would never have dreamed what a wild time was about to be had
that night!

   One of the other couples, Bill and Carson, had brought a friend as well.
Her name was Lois.  She was a top-heavy girl.  She was straight and a
self-admitted fag-hag.  I've never seen her again since but I'll never
forget her for the incredible favor she would unwittingly do me that night.

   All ten of us were gathered around the bon-fire that evening after dark.
We'd been drinking perhaps heavier then usual and the mood was campy, funny
and merry.  Travis was having a great time.  At one point my buddies were
teasing me about my end-of-night ritual, which was to always take a quiet
walk by the lake with someone before retiring to bed.  They were playfully
ragging on me saying they'd all taken a turn and I would be on my own that
night.

   "Come on Chad, I'll go with you!" blurted Travis and stood to leave. 
The night was far from over but who was I to turn down a walk in the dark
with a gorgeous drunk boy!  I grabbed a couple extra beers and we headed
away.

   The lake wasn't far.  We sat on a bench and talked quietly under a
thousand stars.  We listened to the loons calling.  He said how lucky I was
to have a place like this.  He'd rarely been in such an environment in his
life.  He said it must be nice to sit on the dock and put your feet in the
water!

   "I don't know," I said.  "Let's find out, shall we?" he immediately
stripped off his runners and socks as did I and we walked down to the dock.
I was in shorts and I sat at the end of the dock and put my legs in the
mild water.  Travis was wearing jeans.  He started to join me then realized
his pants were getting wet.  So he stood up and took them off, joining me
in just his tee shirt and boxers!  I was delighted.

   Travis confessed that he was turned on by Lois' big breasts and hinted
he'd like to sleep with her.  I knew he'd only ever slept with one girl -
his ex girlfriend Sherry.

   The dock shook.  Gerald had appeared behind us.  He whistled at Travis.

   "Nice legs!" he praised.

   "You know I never been skinny dipping!" announced Travis.  Gerald and I
looked at each other like we'd just one the lottery.

   "We do all the time," said Gerald.  This was a strategic lie of course.
"I think I'll go for a dip now!" He added and began to disrobe.  Travis
scrambled to his feet and standing right beside me, facing me, he peeled
off the tee shirt and dropped the shorts.  I looked up at his beautiful
naked dick.  Gerald grabbed his bare little ass and Travis squealed
playfully and thrust his groin forward to escape the groping, nearly
whacking my forehead with his dick!  I'm sure he was teasing us purposely.
He was always very uninhibited when under the influence of alcohol.

   The three of us horsed around in the water.  Gerald took to grabbing
Travis and "throwing" him at me!  This gave us both plenty of opportunity
to get our hands on his firm naked body.

   When Travis decided he'd had enough he tried to climb back up on to the
dock and of course Gerald and I helped him, getting liberal feels of his
adorable ass in the process.  We all climbed out and Gerald and I used our
shirts to dry ourselves the best we could.  We had extra clothes in the
lodge of course.  Travis began walking naked toward the lodge.

   "I'll just dry off by the fire!" he declared.

   "Whoa there!" said Gerald and grabbed his arm, leading him back, worried
I suppose, what the others would say about a naked boy wandering around.  I
was fine with that idea.  I thought Travis's body was the eighth wonder of
the world and should be seen by everyone on the planet!  And I knew Carson
and Ray wouldn't mind.  They'd both on separate occasions asked me
enviously if I'd been sleeping with Travis.  But whether their respective
partners, Bill and Walt might get jealous or not, I didn't know.

   I took Travis's tee shirt and somewhat dried him with it.  He giggled as
I buffed his butt cheeks.  Then he again wandered off toward the lodge,
still naked.

   "Chad!" Gerald growled, "Do something!"

   "Who cares?" said I.  "Don't worry about it." So he didn't.  We got
dressed and Gerald rounded up the boy's clothes while I returned to the
campfire.

   Ray and Walt had already gone inside to bed as had Mark, our straight
friend.  Most unfortunately Mark's wife Pauline was busy fetching a blanket
to cover Travis up with.  Lois wasn't shy to look at Travis' body and they
both laughed and giggled about it.  Carson just sat there gazing at Travis
like he was looking through the gates of heaven, praying to get in.

   Pauline appeared with a blanket and offered it to Travis.  He stood from
his lawn chair and turned around.  All eyes looked at his butt until
Pauline wrapped the blanket around him.

   He sat.  Our chairs were adjacent.  We all talked.  More beer was
consumed.  The subject of massage came up.  This was one of Gerald's
penchants, both giving and receiving.  He started giving Lois a shoulder
rub.  I got brave.  I stood behind Travis and gave him one.  He dropped the
blanket to his waist and asked me to scratch his back.  I did.  I was
thrilled that he welcomed my touch.  He kept asking me to do it harder.  He
asked again and again.  I was alarmed how viciously he wanted me to
scratch. My nails were leaving white lines on his back.

   Gerald approached and began to help out.

   "Why do you like this, Travis," he asked?  "Did Sherry do this to you?"

   "Yeah," he responded.

   "When you had sex?" probed Gerald.

   "That's right!" he admitted.  I was amazed at Gerald's perceptiveness
and thrilled with the situation.  Here was the sexiest boy ever - being
pawed by two older gay guys, stared longingly at by another, and the sexual
connotations were all over the place.

   "Why don't you lay on the bench?  It'll be easier," suggested Gerald. 
Travis stood and stepped to the bench and then to my shock and unbridled
delight, he pulled off the blanket, laid it on the bench and then stretched
out on top of it, face down, his adorable nude body entirely exposed to
several grateful admirers!

   Gerald and I knelt on either side of him and slowly, lovingly scratched
his back - and his butt - and his legs.  We would run our nails down his
back, over his sweet little ass - and down his legs.  Then - and this is
the best part - we would retrace our path but with the palms of our hands,
smoothing over his baby-soft skin.  He had hair on his head, armpits and
pubic area - and a little on his shins.  That was it.  The caressing of his
bare butt was the most arousing thing I'd ever experienced up to that
moment - but things would get even better!

   Do you like your feet scratched?  I asked.  He didn't reply.  I went and
sat at his feet, taking one into my hands.  It was a little dusty from
walking around naked.  I lightly scratched the sole of his adorable foot.

   "You know what I love?" said Lois.  I looked up.  Pauline had gone to
bed by this time.  I hadn't noticed when.  I think she was uncomfortable
with all this.  Lois was looking at me as I played with Travis's bare foot.

   "What's that?" I asked.

   "Getting my toes sucked!" A shiver went through me.  I could have kissed
her for saying this.

   "Really?" said I, playing dumb.  I held Travis's foot towards her. 
"Show me how!" Lois giggled wildly at this but didn't move to accept the
offer.  I turned back to the foot in my hands.  The toes were so small, so
adorable.  I took them between my lips.  I ran my tongue along them.  God,
how I loved it.  I sucked and sucked, moving from one side to the other,
usually sucking a few toes at a time.  I switched feet and sucked some
more. I had a hard-on now and didn't care if anyone noticed.

   Bill excused himself and left for bed.  Carson said he'd be right in. 
But first he approached us and began to assist Gerald with the scratching
of Travis's back.

   "You do his back," instructed Gerald, "I'll do his bum!" That startled
me.  Surely Travis would object at this point.  He turned slightly, trying
to peer over his shoulder at us.

   "Is someone sucking my toes?" he asked.

   "Yeah," said I, praying he wouldn't tell me to stop.

   "I can hardly feel it," he said, and rested his head back in his folded
arms.  Did he want me to suck harder, I wondered.  Or was that his way of
telling me to just give up on it.  I didn't know how to take the comment.
So I just continued to lick and suck his beautiful toes.

   Gerald was rubbing and squeezing his narrow butt cheeks.

   "Did Sherry ever nibble your bum?" asked Gerald.

   "No," said Travis.

   "Do you mind if I?" Again I thought he'd gone too far.

   "I don't care," Travis murmured.  I was shocked.  Gerald wasted no time.
His lips and teeth were all over the boy's sweet ass.  Carson was
practically drooling on himself.

   We continued our worshipful assault on his naked body.

   "Spread your legs a little," I heard Gerald say.  And to my continued
amazement Travis complied.  I finally took a break from his feet and moved
next to his butt, across from Gerald.  His lips were glued to one firm ass
cheek.  I tapped him on the head.  I wanted a turn and Gerald understood.
As he lifted his head I saw that his arm was between Travis's legs.  He
withdrew it, took my wrist and thrust my hand into that same position.  I
suddenly had Travis's balls in my hand!  I fondled them lovingly while I
attacked his firm buns with my lips and tongue.  Gerald took a turn sucking
toes.

   My lips found Travis's crack.  I pushed my tongue in.  I probed
downward. I found his little rose bud.  I gave my first ever rim job to a
gorgeous straight teenager while 3 people looked on.  Who could have
imagined?

   Travis finally put a stop to it.  He carefully turned himself over on to
his back.  I prayed that he would be hard.  I would suck it for sure.

   He wasn't hard.  He sat upright on the bench.  He wanted to just sit and
talk and watch the fire.  So we did that.  We sat and talked.  Travis
watched the fire and the rest of us watched his dick.  Gerald asked him if
we could take pictures of him.

   "I don't care," he said.  But no one had a camera handy.  That was
perhaps the worst tragedy of my existence - that no one had a damn camera
that night.

   Eventually Lois, Carson and Gerald went to bed leaving Travis and I
alone at the fire, he still naked and sitting very close to me on the
bench. I had been softly rubbing his shoulders, back, neck and the back of
his head.  I adored every minute of it and took long looks at his flaccid
dick, not worried whether he noticed my gaze or not.

   I let the fire die and asked him if he was ready for bed.  He wanted to
go for a walk first.  Perhaps he wished to walk off some of the drunkenness
and avoid throwing up as he was somewhat prone to do.  He climbed into
boxers despite my assurances that we wouldn't be seen and that he was
welcome to streak.

   On our walk we came to the tennis courts.  The gate was unlocked and we
went inside.  He took a barefoot jog around the court before grasping onto
the tall fence and beginning to climb.  I rushed up behind him worried he
might fall.  Under the guise of spotting him I caressed the back of his
smooth legs as he climbed.

   "That's far enough, buddy!  Come on.  Come down," I urged.  He obeyed,
thank goodness and descended.  As his butt was even with my face he seemed
to start to slip.  I suspect he was well aware of my proximity and was
purposely initiating contact, but I'm not sure.  I immediately threw my
arms around him without thought to where I was grabbing him.  As it were,
my right arm wrapped around his waste, the left slipped between his legs
and I clamped onto his package, dick, balls and all!  I held him in this
awkward and intimate way and guided him to the ground.

   We made our way to the shore - a different spot then before - not by the
dock.  Here there was a picnic table on the narrow beach.  He sat on the
top of it, feet on the bench.  I sat on the bench beside his feet.  We both
faced the water.  We talked about serious things - relationships, sex,
religion, goals in life - things he would never talk about when sober.  I
eventually worked my way around so that I was facing him.  I caressed his
foot, his slightly fuzzy shin, his cute knee and eventually, his smooth
thigh.  He didn't seem to mind.

   Finally we returned to the lodge.  We didn't have to discuss sleeping
arrangements.  He went straight to my bed and sat on it.  Gerald, his bed
in the same room, awoke.  We didn't like to sleep in the same bed - at home
or at the lodge.  This was no symptom of relationship problems as some
dull-minded associates would allude to.  One gets a better night's sleep
with a bed to one's self.  It's common sense.

   Gerald conversed with Travis as I fetched a rag and soaked it.  I
returned to the bedroom as Gerald left for the bathroom.  I carefully wiped
the boy's dusty feet clean.  He then stretched out on the bed and scooted
over to the far side - by the wall.  It warmed my heart that he simply
assumed we would sleep together and had no objection.  I climbed in beside
him and lay on my back.  After a moment Gerald returned.

   "Is he asleep?"

   "I dunno.  Travis, you asleep?" No answer.  The poor thing had crashed
instantly - unless he was choosing not to answer.  Gerald dropped to his
knees and gently sucked each of Travis's toes before returning to his bed.

   I rolled over to face my young bed partner.

   "Good night sweetie," I whispered.  "I love you." I put an arm around
him.  I silently shed some tears.  They were neither tears of joy or of
sorrow - or perhaps both.  I just felt so much love for him that the
emotion overwhelmed me.

   Perhaps it was two weeks later when Travis came to the lodge for another
overnighter.  There was no skinny-dipping, no nudity.  At bedtime we
retired to my bedroom.  Gerald hadn't come this weekend so there was no
reason for Travis and I to share a bed.  But for the moment we both sat on
Gerald's bed and talked quietly.  We hadn't drank all that much that night
so I was nervous about trying to initiate any contact.  We talked about the
old soccer gang and some of the trouble and good times we'd gotten into. 
We laughed quietly.

   Pulse racing, I slid a tad farther away from him on the bed and reached
for his shin.  I tried to lift his leg but he held it firm for a moment,
somewhat alarmed, not understanding what I was up to.

   "It's okay," I said and tried again.  He allowed me to move his leg so
that his bare foot was on my lap.  I lovingly massaged his small feet,
alternating every ten minutes or so while we talked and laughed into the
night.  Finally I gave him a hug, wrapping my arms and hands around his
bare back and shoulders and then went to my own bed.  I had desperately
wanted to kiss his feet during the massage but didn't have the guts.  But I
was clever.  I knew how to get across this barrier.



   Returning home that Sunday Gerald was all ears as I recounted Travis's
visit.  When I told him of the foot-rub, I told a lie.  It was a good lie,
a fun lie, a necessary lie.  I told him that each time I was about to
switch feet, I would give the sole of his foot a brief kiss.  In essence, I
had told him I'd been kissing Travis's feet while Travis was sober and he
hadn't objected.  This gave Gerald the impression that oral contact with
Travis's feet was now sanctioned territory.

   A short time later we entertained friends at our home, Travis included.
He was the last to leave.  When the others had gone, Gerald took a seat on
the floor in front of the couch, scooped up Travis's socked foot and began
to rub it.  So I, sitting next to Travis, grabbed his other foot, pulled it
to my lap and did likewise.  We continued to chat and watch TV.  I stripped
off the sock and was thrilled all over again to have such a cute warm naked
foot in my hands.

   Gerald did likewise with the other foot.  And then, believing it an
established routine, Gerald kissed Travis's naked foot!  It turned me on
immensely to see this.  Over the course of the next hour or so we competed
to give the boy the best foot rub.  At one point I leaned forward and took
Travis's small toes in my mouth and sucked.  Travis squealed and pulled
away.  I released him.

   "Don't do that," he said.

   "You didn't mind a couple weeks ago at the lodge," I pointed out to no
reply.

   Though he objected to the toe-sucking he didn't seem to mind the kissing
and so we both kissed his feet - top and bottom - on several occasions. 
Finally we surrendered his cute feet, not wanting to push the envelope too
much.  We put his socks back on for him and soon after he left for home. 
Gerald and I were both entirely turned on and immediately jerked off
together as soon as Travis left.

   This was the beginning of a pattern that would last for years.  Gerald
and I - or more often, just I - would give him foot rubs almost every time
we got together; at our house, his apartment (he moved away from his mom's
house), even at other friend's houses in front of an audience!  To this day
I still give him the occasional foot rub and still kiss his feet or toes.
He still has soft smooth little feet.

   But there were also times that I got to explore other parts of his firm
young body!

   GERALD REVISITED

   Gerald and I continued to explore our exposure kink.  He was a very good
house painter and he did some painting for our friend Pat - the somewhat
older fellow that I met my second time out to the gay support group and who
became a very close friend.

   Gerald did the painting in the nude while Pat hung around and later they
lounged in the living room talking, Gerald still naked, lying on the couch,
his dick often hard while Pat stayed fully clothed.

   On another occasion Pat slept over in our guest room.  We left our
bedroom door open and Pat discovered us having sex with the light on when
he got up to use the bathroom.  We invited him in and he was full of
compliments for Gerald's body and felt him up liberally before returning to
the guestroom.



   Owen was a cute younger fellow who we met while he dated a friend of
ours.  After breaking up, Owen severed ties with our circle of friends
except for Gerald and I.  One evening as he visited us in our home the
conversation kept turning to sex and Owen seemed to be the instigator.

   "If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to engineer a
threesome!" I said.

   "But I am!" he said with a sweet grin.  That was all it took and Gerald
and I began stripping him naked.  He had a very smooth sturdy body, cute
feet, and as we pulled down his boxer shorts we found he had a very big
dick.  Gerald, the more expert cock-sucker went to town on it and Owen
continually begged him to be rougher.  He was not at all sensitive.  He
liked his dick nibbled and loved it when I rubbed it against my unshaven
jaw.

   Gerald eventually got naked but I preferred to stay dressed as I usually
do when a partner has a nicer body than mine.  To me sex is rarely about
reciprocation.  It's all about the worship of the beautiful one.  I did
take out my dick though and jerk off while we played.

   I came home from soccer one night and saw a strange pair of shoes by the
front door.  I went immediately to the bedroom and was thrilled to find
Gerald and Owen going at it in the dark.  I joined the fun.  At one point
Gerald took Owen's smallish foot in his hands and began to lick his sole
and suck his toes.  I came immediately.



   My first real boyfriend, Ted - still the only partner I've ever had
great two-way reciprocal sex with - came back into our lives when he moved
back to our city.  Gerald was talking to him on the phone one evening and
he told me to pick up the other extension.  I did.  Gerald was telling Ted
how jealous he had been back when Ted and I were dating because he had such
a crush on both of us.  It became a rather explicit and sexy conversation.
Ted was in a relationship but an 'open' one and soon we arranged a date for
a threesome.

   It was great fun.  Ted still had a great body.  We all stripped each
other and took turns getting worshipped by the other two.  I sucked Ted
while Gerald rimmed his ass.  They put their lips together with my dick
between and basically blew me simultaneously while four hands explored my
chest and my balls.  It was a wild sensation.

   Gerald loved it.  It was a fantasy finally come true for him.  He took
photographs of Ted and I going at it but the photo store wouldn't print
them.  He still has the negatives.



   One evening Ted and two other friends ended up at our place at the same
time.  The other two friends had both at one time or another been privy to
one of Gerald's naked 'performances'.  Whether they had shared this
information with each other I don't know.  We put together a spontaneous
dinner and afterwards just relaxed at the table, opened more wine and beer
and got nicely buzzed.

   Gerald disappeared for a moment and returned wearing just a pair of
shorts.  He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.  I reached
back and felt my way to his zipper.

   "Hey, what are you doing?" he cried playfully.

   "He's taking off your shorts, what do you think?" stated Ted, clearly
game for what we had in mind.

   "But I'm not wearing underwear!" said Gerald.

   "So!" said Ted.  I eyed our other friends.  One looked like he was into
it.  One looked a little nervous.  Ted was all smiles.  I turned in my
chair and swiftly deprived Gerald of his pants.  He was naked.  He played
shy and tried to hide behind me.  I kept reaching back to touch him.

   Finally at Ted's encouragement he moved slightly to one side and rested
his hardening dick on my shoulder for all to see.  I caressed it.  It grew
harder.  I guided him closer to the table - beside me.  I played with his
dick for an audience of three.

   "Kiss it!" urged Ted.  So I kissed it.

   "No!" said Ted, "Kiss means to suck it!"

   So I did.  I sucked his dick in front of three friends.  Ted left his
seat and came around to fondle Gerald's ass.  He reached around and touched
his chest.  He grabbed the chair Gerald had been sitting in, pulled it far
back from the table and sat down.  He grabbed Gerald and pulled him back on
to his lap.  He reached around and jerked Gerald off until he came.  It was
all quite erotic - at least to four of us.  The one guy wasn't too sure
what to think.



   Gerald got into the gay chat rooms online.  He 'met' a fellow named Eric
who claimed to be 16 and who lived in the neighboring town - not too far
from us.  They agreed to meet.  I didn't believe this person was really who
he said he was and was surprised when Gerald informed me they'd met.

   Not only had they met, but Gerald had given the kid a bare-foot rub and
later sucked him off.  I was impressed to say the least.

   "But is he really only 16?" I asked.

   "No," said Gerald.  "He'd lied about that online.  He's only 15!"

   One night Gerald brought Eric to our home for a visit.  He was a strange
kid from a broken home.  He was thin and blonde.  He was a smoker.  He had
a nice body.  He continued to get blowjobs from Gerald but the two of us
didn't hit it off particularly well.  There was no real problem.  Just a
chemistry thing.  We talked about having a threesome some time but it never
materialized.  Like I said, he was a bit of a weird kid and he talked about
wanting to get into the porn business!  He wanted to do an audition tape.
His best friend was a girl his age who knew he was gay and she had a video
camera (her parents' actually) but they both lived at home with parents of
course.

   One evening Gerald showed up at our place with Eric (now 16), his
girlfriend and the camera.  With very little embarrassment, the kid
stripped naked, lay on the couch and jerked himself off in front of the
three of us while the girl filmed it.

   He never did get into the porn business.  He's now a young drag queen of
all things.



   We heard about a bar called the Crow's Nest that held a 'naked night'
every Friday.  Supposedly patrons were welcome to strip naked on these
special nights.  It sounded too weird to be true and not entirely legal. 
Although, in hindsight the law does afford nudist groups the opportunity to
practice their customs in private settings.  In fact I once showed up early
for a soccer game to find naked people of all age and gender having some
kind of gymnastic event at the arena.  It was quite an eye-opener and a
turn-on too I must admit.  The arena was city property so I must assume
this was all legal.

   The Crow's Nest was known as a leather-bar - not anything Gerald or I
were 'in' to, but nakedness we certainly were.  We showed up on Friday to
find a fair crowd of which only two or three guys were naked - that is,
they were wearing nothing but shoes.  They were significantly older
gentlemen I should add.  There was a check-in guy who was very smiley and
urged us to check our clothes.  I wouldn't dream of it but Gerald happily
started to strip.  All his clothes went in a big plastic bag and I pocketed
his chit.

   We walked around the bar.  I was quite turned on seeing Gerald exposed
to such a crowd of dressed people.  We got a lot of attention.  I started
playing with his dick and he was rock hard in no time.  Several admirers
took great notice of us as the crowd in the bar grew bigger.

   Now and then other men would grope his dick or his ass.  A group of
teenagers came in but stayed clear of us.  There was one who was very cute
and young-looking.  Gerald and I both were attracted to him.

   At one point I went to the bar to get us both drinks while Gerald saved
our seats at the other side of the room.  The bartender had been generous
with our drinks on account of Gerald putting on such a good show.  While
standing at the bar I sensed someone come up beside me and I heard a voice
say:

   "Why do you keep hanging around that naked man?"

   I turned around and it was none other then the cute boy we'd been
looking at!

   "Because we're here together.  He's my lover!" I said.

   "Oh."

   I asked what he was drinking and ordered him one on my tab.  He smiled a
very sweet smile and thanked me and walked away.

   Later in the night a different youth approached Gerald and they talked
for some time.  I couldn't hear them over the music.  Finally the kid left
and Gerald turned to me, all smiles.

   "His name's Peter.  Cute, isn't he?"

   "Yeah I guess.  Not exactly my type."

   "Well, guess what, I know who IS your type.  The one you talked to at
the bar.  He's Peter's friend.  His name's Nathan and he's 18 and he thinks
you're hot!"

   "Fuck off," I said and I meant it.  Years ago I would have believed it
because I was once very popular at the bars.  But those days were gone.

   "I'm serious.  Peter says that Nathan thinks you're the hottest guy in
the bar!" Now I was getting a little ticked off.  I didn't believe this
shit for a second.

   Peter came back to us with Nathan in tow.  He introduced each of us to
Nathan and then resumed his conversation with Gerald while Nathan and I
stood together awkwardly.  I simply could not believe this was going on.

   Nathan asked if we could go somewhere else to talk.  I followed him to a
hallway where we were basically alone.  We made small talk for a bit.  I
was nervous.  I still couldn't comprehend what was going on.

   "You know you're the hottest the guy in the bar tonight!" he said with a
big smile.  I laughed out loud.

   "First of all, you must be crazy because I certainly am not.  And
secondly- you're the hottest guy in the bar - by far!"

   Nathan stepped closer to me, grinning.  "No, you are.  And I don't know
why you want to hang out with that naked man!"

   "I told you.  He's my lover."

   "Yeah well, he's going home with Peter tonight."

   "I don't think so," I said matter-of-factly.  "He's not leaving me
here!" Nathan stepped closer still.  His cute face was right in mine.

   "You can come home with me!" he said, and the next thing I knew we were
kissing.  His lips were wonderfully soft.  His tongue was delicious.  I
pulled away.

   "I can't go home with you unless Gerald comes too." Nathan shook his
head in response.  "I want to fuck you!" he announced.

   "No.  I'm sorry.  I don't do that.  I wouldn't even undress in front of
you."

   "Why not?" he pouted.

   "'Cause you're beautiful.  It wouldn't be right," said I.

   "What WOULD you do?"

   "I don't know.  I'd like to see YOU naked!"

   He started kissing me again.

   "You're an awesome kisser!" I said.  "You're making me hard." He took my
hand and placed it against his crotch.  I wasn't the only one hard.  Now I
was really turned on.  I rubbed him purposefully.  Our tongues did battle.

   "Christ, you feel big," I blurted.  He undid his button and sucked in
his flat belly.  I went down the front of his pants.  No underwear.  I
found the base of his hard dick and held it.

   Suddenly Gerald was there with us.  Nathan immediately buttoned himself
back up.  Gerald wanted to go home with Peter and wanted me to go home with
Nathan.  I resisted.  I wanted a threesome with Gerald and Nathan or else a
foursome.  But nobody else wanted that.  I finally conceded.

   We all piled into Gerald's car.  He dropped Nathan and I off at a
townhouse complex and promised to be back in a couple hours.

   We went inside and a handful of other teenagers - guys and girls were in
the living room.

   "These are my roommates," he announced.  "Guys, this is Chad." We all
said brief hello's and then Nathan led me to his tiny bedroom.  It all
seemed rather strange and awkward.

   He was into art in a big way and his walls were covered in his own
drawings and paintings.  I spent a while admiring them.

   He had a little couch in his room.  No bed.  Perhaps the couch was a
pull-out.  I don't know.  We sat on it and cuddled.

   "Let's get naked," he said.

   "I told you, I won't.  You get naked."

   "We'll see!" he teased.  We cuddled some more.  We kissed.  He was very
cute.  I loved it.

   "Do you want to see my bum?" he asked suddenly.

   I laughed.  "Yes!"

   He stood up, stepped to his desk and picked up a great coil bound book.
It was a sketchbook.  He flipped to a drawing of a young man, lying face
down, naked.  He certainly had a nice bum.

   "That's you?"

   "Yep!"

   "How'd you draw yourself?"

   "From a photograph!" He rifled through some belongings, turned up a
photo and surrendered it to me.  It was definitely Nathan and he definitely
had a nice ass.

   "Are you sure that's you?" I teased.

   "Yes," he laughed.

   "I don't know, I think I'll need to see the real thing to be sure!"

   "Alright!" He leaned back and reached for his button.  I stopped him.

   "Let me."

   He lay there passively while I undid his pants and tugged them off of
him.  I eyed his big dick.  It was a handsome one.  Nathan stood and turned
his back to me.  I touched his two sweet globes.  I rubbed them, pinched
them and squeezed them.  I leaned forward and kissed them.  I sat him back
down.  I knelt before him.  His dick was hardening.  It was a big one.  I
wouldn't be able to take it all.  I would embarrass myself for being a
second-rate cock-sucker.  But I had to try.

   I fondled his dick.  I stroked it.  I loved the feel of it in my hand. I
kissed it.  I licked it.  I licked it some more.  I went down.

   I sucked on the head of it, gave it lots of tongue.  He was vocal,
appreciative.  He ran his hands through my hair.  I went for broke.  I
plunged down further.  I let it slide right down my throat.  And I didn't
gag!  Amazing.  My first time successfully suppressing the gag-reflex. 
Gerald would be proud of me.  It was the best blow-job I'd ever given.

   I think Nathan liked it.  His dick got really hard.  I felt a subtle
pulse in his dick.  I backed up so just the head was in my mouth and I
grabbed the shaft with my hand.  Fluid gushed on to my tongue.  I drank his
come.  I sucked him some more as he softened.  Finally I released it from
my mouth.

   Nathan was all tired now and wanted to just lie in my arms.  I wanted
that too but made him takes his shirt off.  He resisted because he had
come. He didn't feel as sexy any more.  He was embarrassed.  But I made him
get naked and we cuddled.  I held his sweet nude body in my arms.

   Finally he got dressed and we went outside and sat on the curb.  Gerald
eventually showed up and took me home.  Nathan had given me his phone
number but I never called it.  I don't know why I didn't.  I never saw him
again.

   WORSHIPPING TRAVIS

   Travis and I had expanded on our NY Giants trips.  We started hitting
other cities and other sports.  Our biggest excursion was a 6-day baseball
trip in which we hit 3 major league games, a state fair and a day at the
horse races.  Two other friends joined us.  We booked hotel accommodations
for the first and last nights and for the middle three nights we booked
campgrounds.  One friend supplied his parents' mini-van and the other a big
tent.

   The first night at the hotel Travis and I shared a bed.  When I was
confident everyone was asleep I crept out of bed, went to the bottom end of
it and folded back the sheet, exposing Travis's cute feet.  I gently kissed
the soles of his feet and jerked off all over the carpet.

   The second night we were in the tent, all laid out in a row, me at one
end with Travis beside me.  Again, when it seemed all were asleep I moved
to Travis's feet, lifted his blanket and kissed his toes while I came in my
hand.

   The third evening Travis and I were alone in the tent for a moment and
planning to go to the shower building to clean up.  Travis was always one
to joke about streaking and being naked.

   "Maybe I'll just strip here and walk to the shower naked and show
everyone what they can't have!" he kidded.

   "But why can't they have it?" asked I.  Travis just shrugged.

   We walked to the building - clothed of course and stripped there, inside
separate neighboring shower stalls.  The stalls were deep and curtained and
separated by a concrete wall roughly 7 feet high.  Each contained a chair
just inside the curtain.  I withdrew my camera that I'd smuggled inside my
shaving kit, estimated what distance to set the manual focus at, climbed on
the chair and peeked over the wall, hoping to get a quick shot of Travis's
gorgeous nude body.

   He caught me.  That is, he saw me looking.  We just made a joke of it
and laughed.  He didn't see the camera.  I never got the picture.

   I awoke the next morning to find Travis sitting up on top of his blanket
in just his boxers while the other two slept.  I moved and sat at his feet
and we held a whispered conversation while I massaged his bare feet,
eventually giving them kisses as I finished.

   The fourth night the friend who brought the van slept in it leaving
three of us in the tent.  I slept in the middle.  As Travis was getting
ready for bed he was standing in the tent - slightly slouched under the low
roof.  He was in just his boxers with his back to me.  For a joke I grabbed
his underwear and whisked them down to his ankles.  Our friend laughed at
our antics.  I slapped his bare ass.  Had the friend not been there I would
surely have kissed, licked or nibbled that sweet butt.

   "Oh, very mature, Chad." He said but stepped out of the boxers, finished
what he was doing in the nude, then put his shorts back on and climbed into
bed.  This night he decided to sleep the opposite direction - with his feet
beside my head.  After we were all tucked in the three of us talked for
quite a while.  The whole time I had one hand under Travis's blanket
playing with his feet and one hand stroking my own dick.  I tried to be
very covert and not let the friend catch on to the foot-rub and not let
either of them notice that I was furtively masturbating.  However
'foot-rub' does not accurately describe this incident.  I was fondling his
feet - caressing them - worshipping them.  I think Travis had to know by
this point that my attentions were not simply that of a generous masseur,
that I was getting some kind of erotic satisfaction out of these
encounters.



   The fifth night was a very special night indeed.  We all drank heavily
that evening - our last evening of the trip.  At the hotel Travis stripped
to his boxers and laid on his back on top of the covers.  He was asleep in
no time as were the others.  I laid down the opposite way and went crazy on
his feet.  I kissed them very wetly as I caressed his shins, ankles and
feet with my hands.  I sucked on his toes.  He was passed out.  Nothing
would wake him.  I totally made love to his feet and with very little
stimulation I came in my underwear.  I shifted around again and slept
beside him.

   I woke up later and eyed his bare chest.  I kissed it.  I kissed his
nipples.  I kissed his flat tummy.  I looked at his shorts - at the bulge
there.  I reached out and touched it.  I was shocked to find it rock-hard
at the touch!  My heart rate doubled.  His dick was erect and pointed
straight toward his belly button.

   I ran my finger along the ridge.  I was in a frenzy of lust.  I had
quite a boner of my own going on despite my recent orgasm.  I reached up
the leg of his shorts and very carefully crept north.  I touched the hair
on his beautiful balls.  I touched the base of his glorious erection.  I
moved my fingers further along, exploring the shaft of his wonderful hard
dick.  It was velvety and warm and unimaginably sexy.

   I had to see it!

   I tried to bend it sideways trying to push it out the leg of his shorts
but it was the kind of erection that just locks in place - not out but
straight up against the belly.  My efforts disturbed him.  He suddenly
moved.  I whipped my hand out of there and dropped my head to the pillow in
a flash.  I was terrified.  I tried to pretend I was sleeping while my
heart pounded so hard I thought it was shaking the entire hotel complex.

   I woke up again later as the sun was only beginning to make its presence
known.  Travis was still on his back.  I reached out and touched that
wonderful bulge again.  He was still hard - or hard again - whichever the
case may have been.  Again I sneaked my fingers up the leg of his shorts
and found his sweet balls and hard-on.  I had a good feel, running my
fingers up and down his 6-inch erection.  Now 6 inches may not be
especially big but it was more than big enough on a skinny little guy like
Travis.

   He again moved in his sleep, scaring the crap out of me and prompting me
to whip my hand out and fake sleep.

   The next time I awoke it was mid-morning.  Travis was also waking up.  I
glanced down.  It looked like he still - or again - had a hard-on in his
boxers.  Our two friends were both still asleep.  Travis rose from the bed
and started walking around the hotel room.  He looked through his gym bag.
He went to the window and pulled the curtain back a bit to peek outside. 
He picked up a watch and checked the time.  Almost the whole time he stayed
in profile from my view and there was no doubt he had an erection.  It
poked against the shorts - just below the waistband.  It was pointed almost
straight up - perhaps 10 or 15 degrees from vertical.

   The little bastard was exhibiting himself to me.  I was sure of it.  The
little show-off was teasing me.  Finally he came back to the bed and sat
right beside my hip, facing the foot of the bed.  Had he then lain directly
back his head would have hit the pillow.  And that's what I thought he was
going to do.  But no, he just sat there.  So I reached up and scratched his
smooth back for him.  I did this for quite a while.  I wanted to
demonstrate that I was devoted to his pleasure.  In case there was
something else I could do to please him!

   Finally I sat up beside him.  That damn hard-on was still making an
obscene tent at the top of his shorts.  I stared right at it and he had to
know it.  Finally I reached out and tapped it saying "What's that?" - sort
of as a joke.

   He smacked my hand away quite aggressively.  Apparently I was allowed to
look but not touch.

   "Sorry," I said quietly.

   Later, as we were all packed to leave and Travis and I were about to
leave the room and join our friends at the van, I stopped him and said,
"Hey, is everything okay?"

   "Sure," he replied.  I threw my arms around him and gave him a big warm
hug.



   On a trip to Washington to see a Knicks - Bullets basketball game we
shared a hotel room with one other friend.  All of us got drunk.  Travis
and I shared a bed.  I twice got my hand up his shorts to play with his
erect dick and twice came in my shorts while slobbering all over the soles
of his feet.



   We had a friend named Reggie.  Frankly the guy was a loser that Travis
and I would occasionally hang out with out of pity - because few others
would.  There wasn't anything particularly offensive about him except that
he was rather childish and socially incompetent, not understanding how to
be tactful in any given situation.  He met a girl from a complete
trailer-trash family on a telephone sex-chat line.  Their first date was at
a donut shop where he bought her a coffee and she blew him in the parking
lot.  That story might have turned me on had they not both been so
thoroughly unattractive.

   The wedding itself was a tedious affair.  The bride's family were all
drunk out of their gourds.  The rather proper and classy family of the
groom were doing their best to hide their horror at the whole thing. 
Travis and I were just grateful that we were pre-warned that it would be a
cash bar and had accordingly reduced our wedding gifts to compensate.

   But I was eternally grateful for the whole gruesome experience because
it inadvertently brought about the most delicious and memorable event of my
life thus far.  Reggie convinced Travis to host a little stag party for him
at Travis's apartment.  This stag consisted of five people!  That's the
best we could do for dear old Reg.  Four of us played poker all night and
got drunk while Reg spent the night on the phone talking to the wife-to-be
trying to calm all her irrational psychotic fears.  Eventually we all
crashed - Reg in the spare room, the other two guys in the living room and
Travis and I on his bed.

   He slept on his back in just boxer shorts again and with no covers on. I
couldn't wait to get my hands on his beautiful dick again.  While waiting
for him to fall asleep I fell asleep myself.  But I awoke in the early
morning while he was still passed out.  I felt around.  Bingo.  Hard again.
I reached up the leg of his shorts.  These boxers were looser than the
others and my hand easily slipped in to fondle that wonderful hard dick. 
Then I came to a startling realization.  My previous attempt to free his
erection was poorly planned.  There was no need to bend that iron-firm dick
sideways.  I merely had to raise the leg of his boxers up over the head of
his dick.  I grabbed the leg opening and pulled upwards.  It was easy.  I
dragged it up over the head and let the material gather beneath his dick.

   Oh, what a beautiful sight.  Webster's has it all wrong not putting a
picture of Travis' hard-on next to the word beautiful.  Perhaps they asked
him and he turned them down.

   It was a perfectly symmetrical unblemished circumcised hard smooth dick
pointing right up at his belly button.  It was absolutely mouthwatering.  I
kissed it all over the underside.  The warmth and velvetiness were a taste
of heaven to my adoring lips.  I lifted it slightly away from his tummy -
with much resistance, such was the rigidity of its position - and I slipped
my lips over the head and down.  Travis - the most beautiful and sexy boy
in the world - had his hard cock in my mouth.  I was sucking his cock.  I
have jerked off roughly a million times to this memory.

   I sucked very gently.  I didn't want to wake him.  I then left it for a
while as I went down to kiss and lick his feet and suck his toes.  I then
realized the stupidity of leaving his dick out in the open while I did this
- in case he woke up and I had to abandon his feet and pretend to be
asleep. So I returned to his dick and sucked it some more.  I was utterly
beside myself with lust.  Just out of my mind with sexual euphoria.

   I finally regretfully replaced his boxers over his dick and slipped into
the bathroom where I jerked off and came twice.  I would come at least six
more times throughout the day just thinking about it - and roughly four
times a day for the next week or two.



   The next time we shared a bed it was a cool night and he wore underwear
and track pants to bed and a T-shirt.  As he lay back on the bed I sat at
the foot of it and massaged his bare feet.  He closed his eyes.  I don't
think he was actually asleep.  As I finished the foot rub I raised his left
foot way up to my face and planted a long series of open-mouthed kisses
along the sole and the toes.

   In the middle of the night I sat up and felt around his crotch.  His
dick was hard but not very accessible.  It was all I could do to peel the
track pants and undies down a bit - just enough for me to swirl my tongue
around the delicious head of his hard-on.  His body suddenly jolted and I
flew to a lying position and shut my eyes, heart pounding like crazy.

   On another sports-related trip - just the two of us - I connived to get
a one-bed hotel room and Travis got very drunk.  He stripped naked and put
on pajama bottoms and crawled under the covers.  I took a shower and wasted
some time before going to bed - wanting to give him time to fall into deep
sleep.  He seemed entirely out of it.

   I pulled the blankets down to his knees.  I felt the crotch of his
pajamas.  He was soft.  I toyed with it through the soft material of his
jammies - or PJ's as Travis likes to call them.  His dick started to harden
for me.  I was thrilled.  I kept caressing it as it thickened and
lengthened and turned sideways and then up toward his belly button as it
locked firmly into position.  While previous encounters with his erections
may have just been piss-hard-ons for all I know - this was clearly the
result of my sexual fondling.

   I was out of control with lust.  I actually unbuttoned his PJ's and
fully exposed his beautiful young dick.  I caressed, kissed, licked and
sucked it for about a good half-hour.  It softened once but I coaxed it
back to hardness with my worshipful sucking.  I felt a brief taste of
pre-cum with this second effort.  I put one hand against my own crotch and
came in my shorts.  Finally I put his dick away, buttoned him back up and
worshipped his naked feet for a while before going to sleep.  Sometimes I
wonder if he was really asleep through all of it or not.  I have to assume
he was.



   Travis was approached by an older woman that he worked with.  She asked
if he liked movies and proposed she bring a couple to his place for a
movie-night.  Francine was quite a bit older - late 40's.  She's not at all
youthful for her age - quite the opposite in fact - while Travis was - and
still is - extremely youthful for his age.  They would become lovers for a
couple years and be constantly mistaken for mother and son.

   Francine would eventually become very close friends with Gerald and
would confide almost anything in him.  Travis of course was my best friend
and became quite willing to share very intimate details with me whenever he
was drinking heavily.  Thus Gerald and I were able to piece together a lot
of their personal life and sex life.  I will briefly share some of their
experiences.

   That first night in front of Travis's TV he laid down on the couch as he
has always been prone to do.  He didn't really understand if this was a
date or not.  Late in the evening she asked if she could lie down with him
and proceeded to 'spoon' him from behind while they watched a movie. 
Eventually she began to stroke his chest through his tee shirt, then
underneath the shirt and then she drifted her fingers over his crotch and
groped him.  Meeting no objection she unbuttoned his jeans, lowered the
zipper and fondled his semi-erect dick though his boxer shorts.

   Travis just laid there and soaked up the attention.  Finally she
penetrated the boxers, pulled out his cock and toyed with it for a while.

   "I think it's time for bed," she whispered.  He agreed.  They killed the
TV, went to his bed, stripped as far as their underwear and got in.  Travis
still didn't understand if he should expect to have sex or not.  They fell
asleep.

   Travis awoke later in the night to find the woman's hand down his
shorts, playing with his boner again.  They threw the covers aside, lost
the undies and he fucked her like the little tiger he is.

   Francine invited Travis to spend a weekend at her little house she
rented in another town.  He did so.  They had lots of sex.  Travis sleeps
late.  She doesn't.  She would be out of bed, dressed and productive long
before Travis would emerge from her bedroom.  Both Saturday and Sunday
Travis was finally awakened by Francine sucking his young dick, covers
thrown off his naked body.



   She moved in to Travis's apartment.  Travis's evening routine didn't
change despite having a live-in lover.  He kept the thermostat high.  He
would come home from work, take his second shower of the day, put on boxers
and nothing else and lie on the couch watching TV for the rest of the
night. Only now he had Francine sitting at the end of the couch, usually
touching his bare legs and feet.  This of course, was a monumental turn-on
for me.

   On a few occasions I was over at his place and witnessed this.  I would
sit strategically so that I could often see Travis balls and dick up the
leg of his shorts as he squirmed around.  She would often just caress the
tops of his smooth feet but once when I was there he asked her for a foot
rub and she immediately complied and massaged his feet all over.  I
honestly wonder if he did this for his own sake or for mine.  There's no
doubt he has some degree of exhibitionist tendencies.  Another time he kept
sneaking his bare foot up towards her face and would suddenly press it
against her cheek.  She would giggle at this like it was a joke while I
nearly died of sexual arousal.

   I know that when I wasn't there Francine would invariably lie down with
him on the couch, her head on his tummy and she would caress his body.  She
would rub his legs and then slip her fingers up his shorts, pull out his
dick and play with it.  He would usually get hard and she would let it come
to rest on her lips and face and submit it to occasional kisses.  She
wanted sex every night.  Sometimes he gave it to her and sometimes he
didn't.  I can see how he controlled her this way and became the object of
her worship.  Sometimes she would play with his dick half the night without
getting fucked.  She even allowed him to fuck her up the ass whenever he
wanted and that was quite often.

   They made it no secret that she never left his dick alone.  She
sometimes groped him through his pants in front of friends before he pushed
her hand away.  He once commented to a group of us that if the police ever
wanted Francine's fingerprints they would just dust his dick for them.

   Once the three of us shared a hotel and he lay on their bed in just his
boxers while she put her head on his tummy.  The lights were on at this
time.  I was watching them furtively through the mirror.  I don't know if
she was aware of this or not.  Sure enough her hand went up his shorts to
play with his dick.  I could clearly see what she was doing and his balls
were plainly visible.  She whispered something to him more than once.

   "No," was his reply each time.

   "You should just show it off!" she finally said and gave up.

   Later that night with the lights out it was extremely dark but you could
still see a tiny bit.  Travis launched a couple surprise tickle attacks on
Francine and finally my calculated comments prompted him to sneak up on me
for a surprise attack.  I was in a pair of shorts - he, just boxers.  I had
my hands all over his firm tummy and sides as we tickle-wrestled.  I loved
it but pretended to give in to him as Francine had done - making him the
tickle champion.

   This led to a three-way battle where Francine and I ganged up on him.  I
don't know if they thought I couldn't see or just didn't care but it was
obvious to me that as we wrestled Francine had one hand down his boxwea and
was aggressively rubbing his dick.  Not to be left out I slipped my hand
down the back of his shorts and unashamedly fondled his adorable smooth
little ass.  We were all laughing and loving it.  I don't know if Francine
knew what I was up to or not.  I was doing my best to drag Travis' shorts
right off him, thinking we were about to properly molest the boy.  I
figured she would blow him while I rimmed his butt.

   "Are you guys trying to get me naked?" joked Travis.  But this seemed to
sober Francine up and the game came sadly to an end.

   They told me of a couple of their adventures - of her daring Travis to
run to the end of their 3rd floor apartment building hallway and back -
stark naked.  He did it.  Another time she lured him naked on to the
balcony.  She stood behind him, pushed him to the rail's edge and reached
around and held out his dick for the 'world' to see, not that they reported
any audience.

   I showed up at the apartment one time at about 4:30 PM.  I was expected.
Travis answered the door wearing pajama bottoms and a hard-on.  Nothing
else.  He stood sideways as he opened the door for me.  I couldn't miss the
tent in his PJ's.  He was totally hard.  It was sticking almost straight up
- roughly 10 degrees from his tummy.

   I sat on the couch to wait for him to get ready.  We were going out.  He
walked back and forth in front of me a couple times for no apparent reason
- the tent from his woody plainly on display.  I'm still not sure how to
interpret all this.



   Another time at his place I made a phone call on his behalf while he was
in the bathroom getting ready to go out.  I can't remember the nature of
the call but the merchant needed more information than I knew.  Travis had
just finished showering and was still in the bathroom.  I called him to the
phone.

   He marched up to me naked, his dick semi-erect.  He took the phone from
me and talked briefly.  I scratched his back then drifted south rubbing his
smooth bare butt.  I was delighted he let me do that without objection (not
the first or last time for that) but I was upset with myself later that I
didn't make a grab for his semi-hard dick.



   Our last sports trip was a marathon.  Neither of us had ever been to
California and I had many relatives out there.  We went for two weeks.  We
stayed a few nights at hotels but mostly with family.  My relatives all
mistakenly assumed that Travis was my lover and bunked us in shared beds
even though some of them had large enough houses to board us separately.  I
certainly didn't complain.

   Every night as we prepared for bed I rubbed his feet and kissed them. 
We were fairly moderate in our drinking and so he never properly passed out
- thus I had no opportunity to covertly explore his dick.

   One night near the end of our stay we returned to the hotel late.  We
undressed for bed and I went to the bathroom.  When I came out I was
shocked to see Travis lying on the bed, face down, stark naked!

   I sat beside him and scratched his back.  He said nothing.  I let the
scratching migrate into a back massage.  He still said nothing.  I
continued down, briefly rubbing his naked ass, then his legs and feet. 
Then back up I went and rubbed his smooth butt some more.  He still was
silent though I'm sure he was awake.  I went crazy on his firm little ass.
I kissed his butt cheeks several times.  I finally spread his cheeks and
thrust my tongue between them, rimming him properly.

   Finally he began to move, turning on to his side.  I was thrilled the
time had come.  He was going to let me blow him.  But no.  He squirmed out
from under me, pulled back the covers and climbed under them.  I moved out
of his way.

   "Good night," was all he said.

   The next morning I awoke late and turned on the TV.  It was September
11. There on the news was an image of the torn Pentagon, smoke drifting
from its' side.

   "Jesus Christ!" I yelped.  Travis awoke at this.  "Someone bombed the
Pentagon!"

   Little did we know.

   Soon we were looking at more images.  A familiar tower was collapsing to
the ground.  I literally did not believe my eyes.  A demolished World Trade
Centre could not exist in my reality.  My brain just wouldn't process it.

   "That's what we get for electing Bush," Said Travis bitterly.  "That's
what we get for going out in the world and fucking with everybody."

   I was hurt by those words.  I don't think he'd ever offended me before.
'You don't even vote!' I felt like yelling at him but I said nothing.  I
loved him.  I could never criticize him out loud.  I could only love him.
That's the kind of sucker I am.

   We sat and watched the TV all morning, slowly coming to accept a new
reality.  We were supposed to fly home in a couple days.  We were getting
concerned about that.  I wanted to see the flight tickets.  Travis said
they were in his gym bag.  I got out of bed and searched the bag.  He tried
to direct me to the right pocket.  I couldn't find them anywhere.  Finally
he got frustrated and jumped out of bed to find them himself.

   He was still naked.  And he was hard.  Very hard.  Not quite all the way
- not locked against his belly as I'd seen before as he slept.  But it
seemed full size and bobbed around a little higher than horizontal.  I was
on my knees.  He stood right in front of me.  The gym bag was on top of the
low dresser and he stooped over to rummage through it.  His hard-on bobbed
before me.  I just stared at it.  Travis either didn't know, or wouldn't
admit that I'd ever seen his naked erection before.

   "Take a good look," he muttered, "You'll never see it again." I did more
than look.  I reached out and wrapped my fingers around it.

   "Can I help you?" he snapped at me.  He was objecting to my touch but
didn't pull away.  My mind was a fog of sorrow, anger, love and lust.

   "I want to make you come," I croaked and leaned forward, mouth open. 
The head of that beautiful dick hit my tongue.  I tried to close my lips
around it.  I tried to swallow him whole.  I yearned to worship his body
the best way I knew how.  But he pulled away and I let him go.  He crawled
back under the covers.  We said nothing.  I'd gone too far.  I sat on the
floor and fought the urge to cry.  Finally I got up and headed for bed.  I
hoped this whole morning was all a fucked up dream and I would later awaken
from it.

   I sat on the side of my bed looking at Travis.  His beautiful face was
looking at the ceiling.  I moved to his side.  I swept his dark hair from
his forehead and kissed him gently there.

   "I love you, Travis.  My heart is breaking for you." The tears fell. 
Travis's arm came out from under the covers.  He gently cupped his hand
around my forearm.

   "I know.  It's okay.  Everything's okay."

   I knew he was right.  Despite all the complications he was my true best
friend.  My beautiful little heterosexual Adonis was my best friend and
everything was going to be okay.

   *************************************************

   Feedback most welcome!  If you enjoyed reading my little biography
please let me know.  thegarg0yle@hotmail.com [Note the '0' in garg0yle is a
zero!]
   

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