Date: Tue, 29 Feb 2000 17:34:31 -0800 (PST)
From: X Y <modo_velis@yahoo.com>
Subject: the persistence of memory (1 of 1)

True story - names changed - let me know if you enjoy
it, and I'll write more.
============================
mailto:modo_velis@yahoo.com
============================
The first time I shared sex, it was with another boy.
We were at a summer camp for boys in Maine.  I was
thirteen years old.  That made me a "Pioneer" at the
camp, which divided boys by age.

His name was Alex.  I can picture him as he looked
that summer.  He had short almost-blonde hair that
fell onto a round and tan face, basic blue eyes, on a
slightly round body that gave away his inclination
toward books over sports. I remember Alex sitting
beside me on a bench at the baseball diamond, wearing
the dark-green camp T-shirt, tan shorts, docksiders,
no socks.  This was the unspoken camp uniform.

I can picture myself as well, mostly from photographs
that were taken at the time.  I had dark brown hair,
usually too long, curling in unruly directions.  My
skin tanned deeply, especially during camp, when
almost all of my time was spent under the sky.  I had
a round face, and a much softer body than I have
today, mostly because of my love for the high-calorie
camp food.

It must have been a week or two after parents'
weekend.  Alex and I were "warming the bench",
watching our afternoon activity - baseball.  Those of
us who were less able to hit the ball were also less
likely to play.  The counselors, for whatever reason,
liked to win, I guess.  Alex and I knew each other
well, having shared the bench not just during
baseball, but also during soccer, lacrosse, and other
sports where we might have benefited from practice.

With a candor, I now think, unique to the young and
the old, Alex turned to me and asked, "do you jerk
off?"  I had discovered the joys of masturbation
earlier that summer; apparently, so had Alex.

I considered, and then answered honestly.  "Often."

"Want to go into the woods?" he asked.

"Together?  Right now?"  I stalled for time.  I hadn't
expected this, but I felt a strong twinge of curiosity
from between my legs.

"Lets.  It'll be fun."

I hesitated, but Alex guessed my thoughts.

"Nobody will notice we're gone.  They don't even
remember we're here."

He pressed down on the middle of his shorts with the
palm of his hand.  I was immediately excited.  Through
my shorts, I pinched the tip of my penis between my
index and thumb.  Then I remembered where I was,
stopped, and looked around.  Nobody had noticed.
Everybody was watching the pitcher.

Alex continued.  "If we get caught leaving, it's not
like they'll know where we're going.  On a count of
three, we get up and walk into the woods.  Ok?"

Sneaking into the woods with Alex suddenly seemed much
more exciting than watching other kids play baseball.
The pitcher pitched.  The batter swung.  Strike one.

"One," quietly.

He was right; we probably wouldn't be noticed, and
even if we were caught leaving the field, they'd just
tell us to come back and sit down.

"Two," quietly.

The pitcher was about to pitch again.  I swung my legs
over the bench, stood up, and without looking back,
walked behind the conveniently placed field house, and
into the thick Maine spruce forest.

I could hear Alex following me.  I led us around the
perimeter of camp to a place I had discovered earlier
in the summer, wandering by myself, looking for a
place where I could explore myself in private.

It was a small hollow in the forest floor, maybe four
or five feet deep, maybe a little longer and a little
less wide, with steep sloping sides.  It was probably
wet in the spring, but this late in the summer it was
dry and cushioned by many feet of fallen pine needles,
with steep root-lined sides.

I half-slid, half jumped in, then turned around and
watched Alex do the same, his shorts riding up as he
slid down into the hollow.  I reached out and felt for
his penis through his shorts.  He stepped close to me,
shoved his hand down my pants, and wrapped his hand
around my penis.

To this day, I remember exactly what it felt like to
have my little boner pressing its head through the
Alex's loose fist.  I felt naked, and my heart raced.
Suddenly, I needed to be naked, completely naked, and
I needed Alex to be naked to.  I let go of his penis,
pulled my shirt over my head, then reached for the
bottom of Alex's shirt.  My fingers brushed against
his warm belly, and as he reached up while I pulled
his shirt over his head.  Then we both pulled off our
shorts, briefs, and shoes in one into a rolled-up
clothes ball, and stepped away completely bare, facing
each other,  not sure exactly what to do next.

I felt the sticky tickle of the pine needles on the
soles of my feet, and the warmth of the sun that
filtered through the greedy spruce branches on my
shoulders, and an occasional breath of a breeze across
my back and through my legs.  I loved seeing Alex
naked, in front of me, and I loved being naked in
front of Alex.  This was naked like I had never felt
it before.

Alex reached out and touched my nipple tentatively
with two fingertips.  I brushed the fingers of one
hand across the tip of, then under his penis, which
stuck straight out and up slightly from between his
legs, much like my own.  With the palm of one hand,
Alex pushed my penis up and into my belly, thrilling
me.  With my other hand I felt Alex's smooth and warm
naked ass.

Alex leaned into me, pushing us both down onto the
ground, where we rolled around among the pine-needles
and clothes, rubbing each others', and our own
penises, rubbing hard, then tickling, then rubbing
hard, then squeezing.

I squeezed a little something slippery through the tip
of my penis, and I climaxed like I never had before,
out of breath, sweating in the dry summer heat.  I
rubbed the underside of Alex's penis with my
fingertips, and pressed my other hand under one cheek
of his ass, across to the other, and pressed up.  Alex
squeezed my shrinking penis, which he had never let go
of, then sent a surprising volume of sticky, white
liquid onto his belly and my hand.  I knew that's what
was supposed to happen, but I had never seen it
before.

Alex was also sweating and breathing hard.  I started
to notice the Maine mosquitoes, which had probably
found us a while back.  We lay there for a few
moments, breathing and swatting, before I said, "let's
go back."

"Oh man," said Alex, apparently still lost in the
experience.

We un-balled our clothes, pulling out as many pine
needles as we could quickly, dressed, and worked our
way back, still feeling naked under our clothes,
pinching our own and each others' newly experienced
penises through our shorts, until we got close to the
baseball diamond.

How do we go back?  I asked.  I thought it might look
odd if we came stumbling out of the woods together.

Alex was quiet for a moment, then said, "let's come up
the main path, as if nothing's up.  If they ask us
where we were, we can just say that we got bored and
went to check out the afternoon activity board."

This seemed like a reasonable plan, so we cut across
to the activity board, then walked up the main path to
the baseball diamond.  I felt silly for all the
planning; nobody ever asked where we had gone, or why
they didn't see us leave.

Alex and I managed to sneak off together many more
times before the summer ended, but it was never as
powerful as that first time.  If we had known to, we
might have tried many things.  The summer did end, of
course, and Alex didn't return the following summer.
I never saw him again.

Except in my memories, where he stands blue-eyed and
blonde haired, tan and naked in front of me, with his
green t-shirt and tan shorts in a ball near his bare
feet, his barely pubescent penis reaching straight out
and up from between his legs, a hint of longer hair
just beginning in the soft area above his penis,
exactly as I saw him that summer twenty years ago.

mv