Date: Mon, 31 Mar 2008 18:13:43 -0500
From: Southwest Guy <swguy66@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Early Erotic Memories" Submission 4

This story is the fourth part of a six-part series called "Early Erotic
Memories." It is completely true and accurately describes the author's
personal experience. The story is for informational and recreational
purposes only, and the author does not advocate any of the activities
described. It should not be read by anyone under the age of eighteen.


4. PLAYING WITH MY BROTHER

During my childhood and adolescence, my dad was by far the most significant
male influence in my life. He was a wonderful man, honest and hard-working,
genuinely loving and totally dedicated to his family. He spent most of his
adult life working as a salesman, and although he didn't earn a lot of
money, he made sure that my sisters, my brother and I had everything we
needed for a good and happy life. I loved my dad dearly, just as he loved
me, and I looked up to him as the kind of man I wanted to be when I grew
up.

My dad was a typically masculine guy who enjoyed watching baseball and
football games on TV, along with wrestling and boxing. He also mowed the
grass on weekend mornings (a manly chore in my eyes), and I often helped
him by sweeping up the cuttings and putting them into a big cardboard
box. Much to my delight, my dad also loved the outdoors and made sure that
our family went on frequent outings in the mountains or the desert. In one
of my favorite photographs, taken when he was in his late thirties or early
forties, he sits on a rock in the mountains wearing a hat with the brim
turned up in front, smiling his big grin and holding his glasses in his
hands. I think he was a very good-looking guy.

I admired my dad's moderately-hairy body with its natural-looking
musculature, and I always enjoyed an opportunity to see him naked (he was
quite matter-of-fact about nudity and usually left the bathroom door open
while he dried himself after taking a shower). When I started puberty, I
became very aware of the changes taking place in my own body, and I wanted
to let my dad know about them, so he would realize that my body was
becoming more like his. One morning when he was shaving in the bathroom, I
asked him if I could come in and pee. He said sure, so I stood at the
toilet right next to him, my heart pounding, and brought up a subject that
I had been wanting to mention.

"Hey, dad?"

"Yeah?"

"You know, I've started growing hair down around my tally-whacker?" (That
was the word he used for "penis" with me and my brother.)

"Uh-huh."

"Well, it bothers me. Whenever I reach in to get out my tally-whacker, I
grab the hair and pull it, and it hurts."

Pretty lame, I'll admit, but that was the only way I could think of to
introduce the subject of my pubic hair (it didn't even hurt that much when
I pulled it accidentally). My dad told me that he had never had that
problem when he was growing his own pubic hair, and he suggested that I
just hang in there; eventually, I'd get used to it. That was the end of our
pubic hair discussion, and I left the bathroom trembling with excitement
and wanting to say a lot more, although I didn't know how. It had been the
most erotic conversation of my life up to that point.

After my dad, my younger brother Larry was the most important male
influence in my early years. I always saw him as a fairly typical energetic
boy, and I admired him for being more outgoing than I was. He played rugged
athletic games with other boys more easily and got dirty more
frequently. He also kept his hair in a short buzz cut, or a "butch" as we
called it in the fifties, the kind of haircut our dad favored for him
because it was simple and easy to take care of. Larry's hair was dirty
blonde, although it looked much darker when it was wet (I must have felt it
at least once after he got out of the bathtub or the swimming pool, because
I remember thinking that his wet hair felt kind of sexy).

Larry also had a pleasant boyish face, with blue eyes and an almost-pug
nose that had a sprinkling of light freckles from one side to the other. He
was average-sized for his age, with a good boyish physique, and during the
summer, he often went around without a shirt on (something I always liked
to see). Usually, he had a great tan. In a photo taken during the summer
when he turned twelve, he smiles shirtless at the camera with his head
cocked pugnaciously to one side, his smooth chest gleaming in the warm
sunshine and his little belly button peeking out above his low-hanging
jeans, which he wears without a belt (something I would never do).

My earliest erotic memory of Larry comes from 1955 or 1956, when he was six
years old and I was twelve. It was early morning, and I was in the kitchen
with our mom and dad, getting ready to eat breakfast. I think our dad was
sitting at the breakfast nook, and I was standing nearby, when Larry came
in wearing only his pajama bottoms and a tee shirt. Since he had just
gotten out of bed and wasn't fully awake, his little body drooped as he
stood there with his eyes half open. I immediately noticed that he had an
erection, because it jutted straight out in front of him, tenting the front
of his pajamas. My dad noticed it too, because he laughed and said to our
mom, "Look at that. It's sticking straight out!"

When I was thirteen years old and Larry was seven, we began a series of
mildly-sexual liaisons that lasted for several years (actually, they were
so innocent that it might be better to call them "erotic" rather than
sexual). The first one occurred one night when Larry told me about
something he had done with his little friend Gary, who lived up the alley
from the apartment complex where we were living at the time. Gary was an
extremely cute kid, short and skinny with brown hair, an angelic face and
lots of freckles on his nose. I think he also had a chipped tooth, but I'm
not certain. Larry said that when he and Gary had been alone in Gary's
bedroom one day, they had taken their pants down, and Gary had laid
face-down in the middle of his bed. Larry then positioned himself across
Gary at a 90-degree angle, with his little erection on Gary's bare bottom,
and began wiggling his hips back and forth.

Wow, that really turned me on! Since Larry and I were alone watching TV in
our living room at the time and our dad was in the bathroom taking a shower
(our mother and sisters weren't at home when this occurred), I asked him if
he would be interested in doing the same thing with me. He said sure, and I
immediately started getting an erection. Since we could hear the shower
running in the bathroom, we knew our dad would be occupied for awhile, but
I still thought it would be prudent to go check the bathroom door. So, I
got up and walked into the hallway. Yep, it was closed. I then went back
into the living room and took a small vinyl throw pillow off the couch (you
can tell this was the 1950s), then dropped it on the floor in front of the
TV, where there was plenty of room. As Larry watched, I got down on my
knees facing the pillow, and when he realized what I had in mind, he also
got down on his knees, facing the pillow on my left. Without saying a word,
we both started unbuckling our belts.

As soon as I had the front of my pants open, I pushed them down along with
my underwear and lay forward on the floor, placing my erection on the
pillow, so my buttocks were propped up slightly. By that time, Larry had
his own pants down, and he quickly lay across me at a 90-degree angle,
positioning his little penis squarely on my butt, as he had with Gary. I
couldn't tell if he had an erection, but I was so excited that it didn't
matter. He immediately began thrusting his hips back and forth, and I
remember that he felt very warm and that his movements were jerky. I lay
there trembling with excitement and with my heart pounding, until I began
to feel guilty. I then said something like, "Okay, that's enough," and
Larry got off of me and started pulling his pants up. In a matter of
seconds, the pillow was back on the couch, and we were watching TV again.

One evening not long after this, Gary came over to visit Larry, and since
the rest of our family had gone somewhere, I was alone with them. As you
can imagine, I became aroused by the situation. However, I was terrified to
suggest we do something sexual (which is what I really wanted), because I
was afraid of getting caught. My worst fear was that Larry or Gary might
tell our parents what we had done, and I would be sent to prison.

So, I compromised. Instead of suggesting something overtly sexual, I told
Larry and Gary that we should play a game. I would pretend to be doing a
certain thing, and they would have to guess from my movements what I was
doing. They agreed, and I told them to lie face down on the floor, side by
side. I had decided to use the game as an excuse to feel their butts, and I
was quickly hatching a plan as I went and got a plastic ruler out of the
hall closet.

When I came back, Larry and Gary were lying on the floor with their little
bottoms right next to one another. It was a nice contrast, because Gary's
was small and skinny, while Larry's was a little larger and more
developed. Getting down on my knees next to Larry, I placed one hand
against his butt, while with the other hand I began shoving the end of the
ruler into the seat of his pants, right between his cheeks at the spot
where I thought his anus should be. After several seconds, I moved over to
Gary and did the same thing to him. Pausing, I asked both boys if they
could guess what I was doing, and they said no. So, I went back to Larry
and again shoved the ruler between his cheeks for several seconds, then
back to Gary, repeating the same action. It was very erotic.

Finally, they gave up and said they couldn't guess what I was doing, so I
told them, "You two guys are constipated, and I'm helping you out!" I took
my inspiration for this odd statement from a joke that was popular among
adolescents at the time: "Hey, did you hear the one about the constipated
professor? He finally worked it out with a slide rule!" Yes, I know it was
stupid, but I was extremely aroused and desperate for even a little body
contact. Remember, I was a teenager with raging hormones and no legitimate
outlet!

I sometimes wondered if Larry had done sexual things with any of his other
little friends, but unfortunately, I was too inhibited to ask. I did
question him, though, about a trip he took with several other boys and one
of their fathers to a local indoor swimming pool. We happened to be alone
in our bedroom, and since I felt curious, I asked him if he had seen the
other boys naked in the locker room and if any of them had pubic hair (I
had just started growing my own pubic hair at the time). Larry replied that
he had indeed seen the others, and that one of them, a boy named Sonny (who
I had a crush on and whose parents owned the apartment complex where we
lived) had "just a little" hair between his legs. The other boys were
hairless. It surprised me that Larry seemed interested in the subject of
naked boys and was eager to talk about his experience.

I remember two other occasions when Larry and I were alone together and I
daringly showed him my naked buttocks. The first time, I was taking a
shower, when he came into the bathroom either to brush his teeth or pee. We
were talking to one another, and I somehow got around to asking him if he
would like to take a look at my butt. He said yes, of course, so I pulled
one end of the shower curtain back slightly, allowing him to look in as I
turned away and bent forward, giving him a good view of my pale young
bottom. I felt very proud and also highly aroused as he eagerly surveyed my
offering. It was delightful.

On the second occasion, we were still in bed one morning with our bedroom
door closed, and we apparently had been talking about some erotic subject,
because I felt sexually aroused. I told Larry that I was going to push my
pajama bottoms and underwear down under my covers, just for the heck of
it. He said go ahead, so I pushed them down onto my legs, enjoying the fact
that I now was naked below the waist with my little brother only a few feet
away. Feeling emboldened by my daring act, I then told him that I was going
to do something else. Rolling over on my side, I pulled out one of the
drawers in our dresser, which stood between the headboards of our two
beds. Reaching in with one hand, I fumbled around until I found what I was
looking for: one of those little plastic swizzle sticks that are shaped
like swords and are stuck into martini olives. This one was red, with the
tip broken off.

I showed the little sword to Larry and told him I was going to stick it
into my bottom, again under the covers. He seemed appalled that I would do
such a nasty thing, but I quickly rolled onto my side, facing away from
him, and started feeling around my butt to position the sword where it had
to go. When I touched it against my anus, it felt very sharp and prickly,
but I persevered and gently eased it forward until it was firmly wedged in
my little pucker. Pleased at what I had done, I asked Larry if he would
like to see the sword sticking out of me, and he again seemed
appalled. However, I was determined to show him my buttocks, so I pulled my
knees up slightly and boldly raised the covers to show him my backside. The
air in the room felt cold on my bare skin.

Larry looked but didn't seem impressed, and I urged him to come over to my
bed and remove the little sword from its warm sheath. After a bit of
coaxing, he reluctantly came over and pulled it out, dropping it quickly
onto the sheet and saying, "Eeew." That was the end of that.

Looking back, I'm amazed at the amount of sexual tension that sometimes
permeated our bedroom when I was in junior high school, especially when we
had the door closed. Larry and I came very close to doing a number of
sexual things together, but often one or both of us would chicken out,
because we were afraid that our parents would find out or that God would
punish us. On one occasion, we actually did get caught.

We were reclining on Larry's bed with the door closed one day after
school. Larry was lying crosswise on his back, with his lower legs hanging
over the edge of the bed, while I lay right next to him on my side,
examining his bare midsection. I had pulled his shirt up to reveal his
stomach, and I had pushed his jeans way, way down to uncover his lower
belly, leaving them just above his little genitals. I had stuck the tip of
the infamous little plastic sword just under the top of his jeans and was
tickling him with it as I admired the youthful freshness of his warm,
smooth skin. I had a throbbing erection, and it was a very tender moment,
to say the least.

Suddenly, the door flew open and there stood our mother, eyeing us
suspiciously. Oh, God! I sat bolt upright with my eyes as wide as saucers
and quickly tried to hide the plastic sword in my hand, smiling as best I
could as I stared right into our mom's face. I felt like a deer caught in
headlights. She said something like, "What are you doing?" and I said
something like, "Oh, nothing," but we both knew I had been caught
red-handed, doing whatever. She then said, "Well, why don't we leave the
door open?" and then went on about her business. I thought I was going to
pass out.

My erotic experiences with Larry continued even after I entered high
school. The summer between my sophomore and junior years, when I was
fifteen and Larry was ten, our dad took us with him on a business trip to
Yuma, Arizona. It was hot as blazes (123 degrees in the shade!), so while
our dad took care of his business, Larry and I spent most of the day in the
motel swimming pool, playing around with some other kids and cooling
off. Afterwards, we returned to our room to wait for our dad to come back,
and we may have taken showers (separately), although I don't remember. I do
recall, however, that Larry was lounging around in just his white briefs,
enjoying the air conditioning, and I was having a hard time trying to
control my sexual urges. He sure looked sexy!

Eventually, I started wrestling around with him on the bed, pretending that
I was going to pull down his underpants. As he resisted and squirmed around
underneath me, I reached over to the windowsill and picked up the Allen
wrench key that was used to open and close the old-fashioned windows. It
was about six inches long and a quarter of an inch thick, and I told Larry
that I was going to stick it up his rear. As he continued to resist, I
rolled him over onto his stomach and tried to pull down the back of his
underpants, but he quickly placed his hand over the middle of his butt,
palm outward, to protect himself. At that point, he began squealing loudly,
desperately telling me to get off, and I could tell that he was
serious. So, I rolled off of him and got up from the bed with a painful
erection, wishing that he had been willing to let me carry out my playful
threat. (This episode occurred shortly after Larry and I had pantsed one
another in our parents' bedroom, as described in the next story in this
series.)

Another incident occurred back at home. One afternoon, Larry and I were in
our parents' bedroom, and in some way, we had started wrestling around on
the floor. We were fully clothed, and at one point, Larry grabbed me
between my legs and squeezed my genitals through my pants. That turned me
on, and I quickly began trying to grab him between his legs as well,
saying, "Oh, so that's the way you want to play, huh?" Before anything
happened, though, we broke apart.

On another occasion, I was sitting in our living room one night, watching
TV with our family. Larry was sitting right next to our dad on the nearby
couch, leaning against his side and resting his head on his
shoulder. Suddenly, I heard our dad say in a gruff, threatening voice,
"Hey, watch that!" I looked over and saw that Larry had draped his hand
over our dad's thigh, right next to his groin, and I immediately realized
what had happened. Larry had been inching his hand cautiously down toward
our dad's penis, trying to feel it without our dad noticing. However, he
hadn't been cautious enough! Larry feigned innocence, acting as though he
didn't know what our dad was talking about, and we all just started
watching TV again. I was surprised to find out that Larry apparently felt
as curious about our dad's genitals as I did.

One of the most erotic encounters I ever had with Larry occurred during the
summer before I went into the twelfth grade, which means I was sixteen and
he had just turned eleven (it could have been one summer earlier, shortly
after we pantsed one another, but I'm not sure). I was in our living room
with my parents one night, watching TV, while Larry was in the bathroom,
taking a bath. When he opened the door and came out into the hall, I
noticed that he hadn't put on his pajamas but instead had wrapped a towel
around his waist. Since he appeared to be wet, I assumed he was planning to
dry off in our bedroom.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that if I were to walk out into the back yard
and look through our bedroom window, I could see Larry naked as he dried
himself. So, that's what I did (it didn't occur to me that our parents
might become suspicious of what I was doing, but as it turned out, they
didn't pay any attention). I wandered out into the yard as though I was
enjoying the night air, but after going only a short distance, I went
directly to the window, which was wide open with the curtains pulled
back. It was my first peeping-Tom experience.

There stood Larry in his naked glory, drying off and getting ready to put
on his underwear. He noticed me right away and quickly wrapped the towel
around his waist, but then he did something totally unexpected. Facing the
window, he suddenly jerked the towel away, holding it to one side and
wiggling his hips back and forth to briefly display his genitals. Then he
quickly covered himself up again. Ah, he was in a playful mood, and I
couldn't believe my good fortune. After a few seconds, he turned to one
side and jerked the towel away again, shaking his hips and giving me a
fleeting glimpse of his pale little buttocks. By the time he wrapped the
towel around his waist again, my heart was pounding, and I could feel my
penis stirring into an erection.

At that point, he evidently wanted to show me more. Clutching the towel
around his waist, he walked over and closed the bedroom door, then came
back into the middle of the room with a mischievous grin on his
face. Suddenly, he whipped off the towel and tossed it on his bed, then
raised his arms over his head and began dancing around completely naked,
thrusting his hips back and forth obscenely and obviously enjoying the fact
that I was watching. I could hardly believe my eyes! Eagerly, I surveyed
his smooth armpits and boyish chest with its small pink nipples, his
tightly-stretched belly and hairless groin. His little scrotum and
circumcised penis bobbed lewdly between his legs as he slowly rotated
around to reveal his butt, the smooth little cheeks flexing rhythmically
against one another with each gyration. It was the most erotic thing I had
ever seen.

I became so aroused and excited that I couldn't help going back into the
house and down the hall to the bedroom door. Slowly pushing it open, I
found Larry lying face down across the bottom edge of his bed with his legs
extended down to the floor, frantically thrusting his penis back and forth
against a folded blanket. His body jerked convulsively, and I could see his
little buttocks clenching and relaxing with each thrust. It was a beautiful
sight.

Closing the door behind me, I walked over to the bed and gripped him by the
shoulders, placing one hand on either side of his neck. I desperately
wanted to feel him all over to see how smooth and warm he felt, then gently
spread his buttocks apart and look at his little anus, which I had never
seen before. However, I was far too inhibited and afraid to do anything
like that, so I just said quietly, "You better get up before somebody comes
in and finds you." Then I released his shoulders and reluctantly left the
room, closing the door behind me.

Another memorable incident occurred at about this time, although unlike the
others, it was completely open and legitimate. For some reason, Larry and I
were talking about tattoos, and I suggested that I could paint a tattoo on
his chest using our set of watercolors. He liked the idea, so I told him
the best place to do it would be the bathroom, where he could lie flat on
his back on the edge of the tub (the spot where I masturbated!). He agreed,
so we took the watercolors into the bathroom, and he then took off his
shirt and lay along the edge of the tub on his back. For the next fifteen
minutes, I painted a hula dancer under a palm tree in the center of his
chest, while simultaneously enjoying the beauty of his soft smooth skin and
his little pink nipples. It was quite erotic. (Larry had a friend at that
time by the name of Stephen, a cute blonde with an incredibly beautiful
well-developed body. It's possible that I also painted a tattoo on
Stephen's chest, although surprisingly, I don't remember. Since they were
very close and spent a lot of time together, I've often wondered if Larry
and Stephen did anything sexual with one another.)

In the ninth grade, I had discovered that Larry often masturbated in his
bed at night by putting his pillow under his hips and then wiggling his
penis back and forth (I described this in my last story). One night when I
was a senior in high school, as I was trying to go to sleep, I heard Larry
wiggling furiously under his covers, and the sound eventually became so
pronounced that it was obvious he was approaching some kind of
climax. Under other circumstances, I might have enjoyed listening to him,
but I felt so tired that I just had to get some sleep. So, I very
inconsiderately told him in a loud whisper, "Stop wiggling!" He immediately
got quiet, and a few minutes later, I heard him turn over on his side and
settle down to sleep. In later years, I regretted that I had interrupted
him when he obviously was enjoying himself, and I also wondered if he
actually had been on the verge of a dry orgasm. At his age, I didn't even
know what orgasms were, and I hadn't even discovered masturbation! (I've
often wondered when and where Larry experienced his first ejaculation and
what the circumstances were. I assume it happened one night when he was
wiggling, but I guess I'll never know; it might have happened in the
bathroom, as it did for me.)

One time, I remember waking up in the middle of the night and noticing
Larry asleep in his bed. I could tell that he was lying on his stomach with
a slight and very intriguing rise in the covers over his little butt. I
couldn't help myself. Stealthily, I got out of bed and stepped over to
where he lay. Leaning over him, I placed one hand as gently as I could
right on top of his cheeks. They felt so soft and smooth! I was just
beginning to move my hand around slowly, when he started to wake up,
mumbling something in a confused way. I quickly started pulling the covers
up around his shoulders, whispering, "You were just coming out from under
the covers, Larry. Go back to sleep." As he settled down again, I got back
into my own bed.

One final incident occurred before I graduated from high school, when Larry
and I were alone at home one night watching TV in the living room. Larry
was sitting in the big upholstered chair, although he had slid his body
down until he was lying prone, with his head propped against the back of
the chair and his butt right on the front edge. I was sitting on the
matching footstool slightly to one side, resting my hands on his stomach
and asking if I could give him a pinky (if you're not familiar with
pinkies, that's when one boy raises up another boy's shirt, then drums on
his bare stomach with the palm of his hand, like he's beating on an Indian
tom-tom). Larry was playing hard to get, and I was becoming frustrated. I
really wanted some warm body contact! I would plead and try to pull up the
front of his shirt, but he would hold it down and try to concentrate on the
television program, occasionally laughing and saying, "No!" Between my
pleas, there was an awkward silence, along with a great deal of sexual
tension. Eventually, I began tickling his belly, and he then said
emphatically through his laughing, "No! I'll tell Ray you stripped me
down!" (Ray was an adult neighbor who lived across the street.) I replied
in a strained voice, "You better shut up, or I will!"

Surprisingly, nothing else happened, and I eventually moved away from
him. However, an important thought occurred to me later. I had asked Larry
only if I could give him a pinky, without saying anything at all about
stripping him down; he brought up that idea entirely on his own. Was he
giving me a hint? Perhaps what he really wanted was for me to take his
clothes off; and if that was the case, why hadn't I played along and given
him what he wanted?

As it turned out, that was the first of many regrets I came to feel through
the years about my erotic escapades with Larry. Today, I wish I hadn't been
so inhibited about relating to him sexually during our youth or so afraid
of getting caught. I know we could have developed a far stronger
relationship through our activities, despite the commonly-held taboos
against them. If only we had seen them for what they were: innocent
explorations and opportunities to express what we felt for one another as
brothers. I now wish that I had started wiggling right along with Larry
whenever I heard his covers rustling at night, or even that I had invited
him over to my bed to wiggle on my bare bottom. I should have been more
daring and less inhibited when I suspected that he wanted to do something
sexual as much as I did, and we both should have been more willing to share
our emotions as well as our developing bodies. There were just so many
missed opportunities!

But, that's the way it is. At least, I have many wonderful memories of the
incidents I've described so far, along with several others (yes, there were
more, even after I graduated from high school!). Perhaps the most
significant later episode took place when Larry was in junior college and
he and I were living at home with our parents. Late one night, after our
folks had gone to bed, we stayed up to watch TV, lying side-by-side on the
living room floor. Larry was on his back, trying to watch the program, but
I was joking around with him and had grabbed him by the ankles. Eventually,
I pushed his legs up so his knees were folded onto his chest, while I was
facing him on my knees with my legs spread wide apart and my groin pushing
right against his upturned buttocks. Basically, we were in the classic
"missionary" position. Neither one of us said anything as we held that pose
and continued to watch TV for several minutes. After we separated, I
wondered why he had allowed me to do that.

One day around the same time, I noticed Larry through the open bathroom
door as I walked down the hall. He was standing in front of the sink in
just his boxer shorts, putting deodorant under one of his arms. I stepped
in and put my face right into his armpit, examining the hairs closely and
even rubbing a few back and forth between my thumb and forefingers. He
laughed and let me do it. Another time, when he was on active duty in the
Marine Corps Reserve, he visited me at my apartment in northern
California. I'll always remember how he stepped out of the bathroom, once
again in just his boxer shorts, and started flexing his muscles like a
bodybuilder, posing erotically as I watched from about ten feet away. He
was in his early twenties then, and beautiful. He also knew that I was
gay. (As far as I can recall, Larry referred to my gayness only once. We
were alone in our parents' living room and had been arguing about
something. I was angry and said that he was as stupid as a banana [a stupid
statement in itself!], to which he responded, "Yeah, you'd like to peel me
and take a bite!" I think we both realized that he was absolutely correct.)

Often during that same period, Larry and I joked with one another in a
sexually-suggestive way. For instance, whenever either of us ordered a
pizza with everything on it, we asked for "the works." So, I would ask him
from time to time, "Hey, do you want the works?" He would open his eyes
wide and get a mischievous grin on his face, eagerly nodding his head up
and down to indicate "yes!" We both recognized the sexual implication in
this, but it remained unspoken. Today, I still wonder if his reaction to my
question was just a way of saying that if I wanted to do something sexual
with him, he was willing. I guess I'll never know.

On two occasions many years later, I saw Larry completely naked as a
fully-matured adult. The first incident occurred in the mid-1980s, when he
was in his mid-thirties. We were camping in a public campground on the east
side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California and happened to take a
shower together one afternoon. As he stood drying himself only a few feet
away, I eagerly looked him over while pretending to be engrossed in drying
myself. He certainly had changed during the previous two decades! Standing
about six feet tall (two inches taller than me) and weighing about 170-180
pounds, he still had a good physique, with nice muscle tone and about the
same amount of body hair as me and our dad (although the hair on his chest
grew further up toward his neck and shoulders). He also had a
nicely-shaped, good-sized penis with lots of pubic hair, which was quite a
change from the hairless little thing I remembered!

The second occasion took place in 2001, when Larry was 52. We were sharing
a motel room in San Diego, and he came out of the bathroom buck naked after
taking a shower. Sporting a big comical grin on his face, he brazenly
walked around the bed where I was lying, apparently to retrieve something
he had forgotten. I laughed and pretended to be outraged. Since his
suitcase was on the other bed near my nightstand, I could have reached out
and touched him when he started rummaging through it. In fact, I was
tempted to grab his penis as a joke and hang on for dear life, but much to
my later regret, I didn't. At the end of our stay at the motel, when Larry
walked up to me in our room to hug me and say goodbye, I threw my arms
around him on impulse and kissed him on the lips. Since he wasn't expecting
it, it was good and wet, and we both laughed afterwards.

Today, my brother is approaching 60 and has been happily married for almost
40 years. I love him dearly and admire the things he has accomplished in
his career, as well as in his personal life. Although I've often wanted to
talk to him about the erotic encounters we enjoyed so long ago, I doubt
that I ever will. He might not even remember them. What's important is the
fact that they occurred and that they were a significant part of my early
life. Thanks, Larry!


March 2008