Date: Fri, 29 Mar 2019 03:39:38 +0000
From: Leo Rysing <leorysing (at) protonmail.com>
Subject: Tales of Boys and Men - Chapter 4

Tales of Boys and Men - Story #4
"The Moment I Knew" (B/b, M/b)
A True Story as told to Leo Rysing (LeoRysing -at- protonmail-dot-com)

Support Nifty - If you don't you'll really miss it when it's gone.

This story previously appeared on Nifty under a different author's name.
I have permission from that author to repost this story in this way.

---
Preface:

I was sitting with another guy in the sauna at the YMCA the other day when
two boys came in.  The boys were friends, 12 and 15 years old, and although
we all knew they were not really allowed in the adult area, no one
immediately complained.  A few moments later a worker came in and told the
boys to leave.

After they left the guy I was with, a handsome, openly gay man in his
thirties, turned to me and said, "I remember doing that.  In fact, I can
tell you the exact moment I knew I was gay."

He then commenced to share his own coming-of-age story with me.

I got the impression he'd always wanted to tell someone this story and now
it just sort of came spilling out in every detail.  We spoke for almost an
hour, with me asking a lot of questions, and when he finished I told him I
really wanted to write it up.  Would he mind if I turned it into story form
and posted it?

His only request was that I keep his name out of it.

Here is my written version of the experience he related to me, told as much
as possible in the way he told it to me.  While it's certainly my kind of
story, and has the kind of elements I've written about before, it is based
on the conversation we had and is as accurate as I can make it.

Enjoy.
 --

"The Moment I Knew" Ð One Boy's Coming of Age Story


I can tell you the exact moment I knew I was gay.  I was around 8 years old
when it happened.

My mom was a single woman.  I actually didn't know who my dad was until I
was an adult.  He had been married to another woman, had an affair with my
mom, got her pregnant and told her he didn't want to hear from me until I
was 18.

Whatever.  His loss.

Point is, mom had to raise me alone.

She wanted to make sure I knew how to swim, so I wouldn't drowned in some
pool accident or something, so when I was very young she started taking me
to the YMCA for swim lessons.  I was so young I barely have any
recollection of that at all, but by the time I was older we were going to
the Y to swim just for fun.  Because I was so little she always took me
with her through the women's locker room.

One day it was decided, on the spot, that instead of going through the
women's locker room, I was now old enough that I should start going to the
pool on my own through the boys' locker room.

She pointed me in the door, told me not to dawdle or talk to anybody, just
rinse off in the shower and walk right through.  She'd meet me at the pool
after she had changed.

I was already wearing my swim trunks and didn't need to change so I just
went through the boys' room while she went into the ladies.

First thing when I stepped inside was I heard water running, and then some
boys giggling.  I saw the sign pointing to "POOL" and followed the arrows.

I turned the corner, found myself at the showers and froze in my tracks.

There were three boys in the shower; two kids like me (preadolescent), I'm
guessing around 10 and 12 years old, and an older boy, maybe 14 or 15.

They were all naked.

I don't believe I'd ever seen another naked male before; never laid eyes on
any penis other than my own.  For an instant I just froze there, staring.

They must have been playing around because they all looked up at me with
slightly guilty looks.  In particular the older boy sort of grinned
sheepishly as he stepped away from the other two and back under his own
shower head.  I had no idea what they'd been doing, but I can guess now.
Boys, as I would soon learn, like to play games in the showers.

They were all cut (circumcised), just like me, and the two younger boys had
boyish little dicks that looked pretty much like mine in size and shape.

But the older boy... oh man!

Unlike the others he'd hit puberty and had this plump, teen cock; much
longer and heavier looking than my own or the other boys.  He also had a
bit of a woody.  I just remember thinking he looked big and his thing hung
heavy, bouncing and swinging as he moved, looking like it had some weight
to it.

I'm sure I looked like a total idiot standing there.  I just gawked.  I
didn't know it was wrong to stare and I couldn't take my eyes off that
boy's cock!

I heard him saying something and finally realized he was talking to me!  I
tore my eyes away from that piece-of-boy-meat and looked up.  He was
smiling at me, grinning ear-to- ear.

"You okay, kid?" he asked, clearly amused by my reaction.

I think I nodded weakly and just looked back down at his cock.

Remember, up to this point in my life I'd always gone through the ladies
locker room.  There was nothing of interest to me there; just a bunch of
old ladies with wrinkly skin and sagging boobies.

But here!?  These were boys!  Little boys, like me, playful and giggling,
with smooth tight skin and little bouncy dicks just like I had, and a big
boy, with a big dick, just like Ididn't have!

The other boys were looking back at me and giggling while I just stood
there, catching flies.

Eventually I found my feet and started walking again.  I went straight
through the shower and directly to the pool.  Just like mom told me, I
didn't talk to anybody on the way.  As I left the other boys behind I could
hear them laughing.

When I got to the pool my mother wasn't there yet, so I sat on a bench and
waited.  I was numb thinking about what I just saw.  The more I thought,
the more I wanted to see those naked boys again.

Then I realized I hadn't actually taken a shower, like you're supposed to
do before getting in the pool.  Well, I decided, I needed to go back and
rinse off.

When I came back the boys were still in the shower, still laughing and, I
guess, horsing around, because they were all standing near each other
laughing.  As soon as they saw me they moved away from each other, back
under their own showers, and they had those naughty looks again.

I didn't know what they were doing but had the feeling it was the older boy
who was the instigator.  When I looked down at his cock, I swear, it looked
even bigger than before.  Now it stuck straight out from his body and
wasn't just hanging there.

I turned on a shower and got under it and, there I was again, staring at
that big dick and pubes on the older boy.

It was obvious I was looking at him, I didn't have the sense or skill to
hide it, but he didn't seem to mind.  The more I stared, the more I got the
impression he was enjoying it.

I was fascinated by the size of his dick; the way his ball sack hung down
so large and so heavy, by that area of hair he had above it, and by the way
it kinda moved sometimes.

When I finally looked up at his face he was grinning down at me again,
beaming, like there was a private joke between us.  He knew exactly what I
was doing.  I was checking him out.

He motioned toward my bathing suit and said, soft like a secret, "Show me
yours."

I just stood there.

The other two boys didn't say anything.

"Come on," he said again, "Let me see it."

I was the only one in the shower who wasn't naked already anyway, and he
was letting me see his, so it somehow just seemed fair that I should show
him mine.  Without saying anything, I pulled down the front of my swim
trunks and showed him my little weewee.

I thought he was just gonna look at it but instead he stepped right over to
me and grabbed my little pecker in his hand.  It surprised me, but it felt
good.

He checked out my balls, felt up my little two-inch shaft and stroked it.

I got stiff fast.

Him standing right in front of me put his hard, teen-dick right under my
eyes.  He kept stroking my little pecker-wood while I took in every detail
of that plump boy-thing he had.  I wanted to feel it, but I was too scared.

He felt up my little dick and balls with his fingers while the other boys
watched.  I believe now he'd done this with them as well, that they'd all
been checking one another out in the shower when I came in.

"You got a nice little one," he said.

He looked at the other boys, "See, his is little but HE gets stiff."

By now I was noticing his dick was definitely bigger and harder and it
seemed like it moved with every beat of his heart.

After a few moments of playing with my thing he went back to his shower.  I
pulled the front of my swim trunks up and headed back out to the pool
without ever talking to anybody, just like momma told me.

My mom came out of the ladies locker area a few moments later and we went
swimming.

Of course, I didn't say anything about what happened in the locker room,
but the whole time I was swimming I kept thinking about it.

Even though I didn't know what "gay" was, that was the moment I knew I was
gay.  Right there, right then, I knew what I wanted.  I wanted to see more
guys naked.  I wanted to see boys like me.  I wanted to see older boys.  I
wanted to see grownup men.  I wanted to see more naked males of every type
and age possible, but especially boys and men who were older than me.

And I didn't just want to look.

I wanted to touch those boys, like he had touched mine.  I wanted more boys
to touch mine and to let me touch theirs.

That's what I wanted, and I knew it, right then.

From that moment on I would never have any sexual desire for a female.
Maybe all those trips through the women's locker room at such a young age
turned me off women or desensitized me to their appeal, but I never had,
and never would, have any interest in naked females.

After that day, going to the YMCA was a whole different thing for me.
Yeah, I still liked to swim, just like any boy, but I discovered what I
really liked was spending time in the locker room.

If I was in the pool, and saw a boy go in the lockers, I'd wait just a few
moments, tell my mom I had to go pee, then head in after them hoping to
catch a peek.  Usually they would be showering, usually with their suits on
(disappointing), but sometimes I'd get lucky and get to see what I wanted;
their naked boy goods.

Mom must have thought I'd developed bladder trouble the way I suddenly
needed to pee all the time.

Each time I'd sneak back into the locker room for a lookie I'd pass through
the shower, taking in an eyeful of whatever was on display, trying not to
be too obvious.  I'd hit the toilets, either pee or pretend to pee, flush
it, then get a second chance to enjoy the scenery on my way out.  Some boys
would only take their suits off to change into clothes but I'd get a
glimpse of them in the changing area while they were undressed, if I timed
it right.

I tried to be casual, but at that age, how casual can you be, perving on
other boys?

Eventually my behavior got me noticed.  The good thing was, it was noticed
by guys who shared my interests.

Seems I wasn't the only one looking.

I ran into that "older boy" a couple more times.  We messed around.  He was
pretty bold, and pretty wicked, to be 15-years-old and feeling up the dicks
of little boys half his age in the shower!  (I wonder whatever became of
him, huh?)  I got to touch his the next time when he took my hand and put
it on his.  That was my first feel of another guy's thing.

While most boys didn't wanna do much, I found other boys, younger and
older, who were just as interested in looking or horsing around as I was.
Sometimes we'd play a little "grab the goodies" in the showers.

I got into messing around with other boys whenever I found someone willing;
and not just at the Y, but that's another story!

My first naked, male grown-up, happened just a few weeks later.  He was a
dad there with his young son.  Nothing happened.  He wasn't a perv.  I just
got to look at him and his nice daddy dick.  He and his boy were showering
after swimming.  The boy was younger than me.  I think I freaked the man
out a bit by staring at him.  I probably had a stiffie and made him
uncomfortable with my obvious, wide-eyed curiosity, looking at his thing.
He left fairly quickly, but that's all that happened.

Anyway, that was how I got to see my first naked man.

Over the weeks that followed I saw quite a few dads passing through with
their boys.  Some dads would strip in the shower and wash with the rest of
us; others didn't, they seemed to be uncomfortable getting naked around
little kids, especially kids who weren't their own.  (Makes sense, I
guess.)

One day I ran into a particular man who would become quite special to me at
that age.

He was very open, very friendly, and eventually we ended up doing more in
the shower than just looking at each other.

This man had a group of boys he regularly took swimming.  A couple of the
boys were his sons and the other boys were their friends.  They were
regulars at the Y.  I'd seen them in the pool before and even played with
them a bit, but never thought much about them.  Once I was able to go
through the boys' locker on my own, whenever they would leave the pool, I'd
make my excuse to go pee and for several weeks I'd "accidentally" show up
in the locker room just as they were showering and changing.

I thought myself clever, but what I was doing was pretty obvious to the
dad.

Unlike other dads who'd come through, he always insisted his boys (and
their friends) take off their suits while showering and rinse them out
before leaving.  I started to notice that if they hadn't stripped down
already when I was there, he would make them strip about the time I showed
up.  He would always set a good example by doing the same, pulling his suit
off, getting naked and rinsing it out, but always when I was in a position
to see him.

At the time I just thought this was very convenient for me.  I got my
eyeful of naked boys, as well as the chance to perv on a naked, adult man,
every time I went in there.  At the time I didn't realize this "sure thing"
was because he was arranging the show for my benefit.  It was only years
later I understood how intentional his actions probably were.

As luck would have it (or maybe not just luck), things began to time out
regularly that we'd all be leaving the pool for the day at the same time.
I'd be in the shower with them, stripping naked and showering myself off,
at the same time they were.

The dad always washed the younger boys himself, not trusting them to get
themselves clean with soap, and I always enjoyed watching him do it.  The
washing included giving the boy's penis a good soaping up and cleaning.
His youngest son was not circumcised and the dad would make it a point to
peel the skin back a bit (as far as would go at that age, I guess) and wash
his little pee head very well.  He made sure he got him all clean, rubbing
the boy's soapy penis up and down repeatedly as many times as he needed to
be satisfied the boy's peepee was completely clean.

With me watching he was always very thorough in cleaning his boys' private
parts.  He washed the boys while kneeling behind them, putting his arms
around them and pulling each boy back close against him.  That way he could
look over the boy's shoulder to see what he was doing.  It also made it so
I got the full-Monty of each boy; a clear, unobstructed view of their
stuff.

From the start he must have realized I was watching him closely, but I
never suspected he was aware of me doing it.  Yet all the time I was
enjoying the action, he was enjoying me watching, and staging it for my
benefit.

I so enjoyed watching him clean his boys, but there was more than just a
sexual feeling for me about it.  I was envious of the boys for having a man
to take care of them like this.

Early on he asked me my name.  In the pool he struck up conversations with
my mom and told her how he chaperoned this group of boys each week.  She
was thankful there was a responsible adult going through the locker room
with all these boys, especially while I was in there, to make sure we
weren't getting into any sort of trouble.  He assured her, he kept a close
eye on all the boys and was happy to include me as one of his group, since
he knew I didn't have any other male to watch over me in there.

So my mom got to know and trust this man, while he and I got to be very
friendly.

After me watching him so closely as he washed the other boys, he asked if
I'd like him to wash me.

I said yes.  At that age it never occurred to me there was anything odd
about a nice man offering to wash a naked young boy he'd recently met in
the shower.

He finished with his boys and sent them off to get dry and get their
clothes on.  He told them he'd be along in a few minutes and to wait for
him in the lobby once they were dressed.

We were alone in the shower and the locker room.

He soaped up his hands and began washing me.  He got behind me and started
with my back.  It felt so nice to be touched.

He put his arms around me to wash my front, just like he did the other
boys.  I let him pull me back into him and as he held me tightly against
his body I closed my eyes, leaned back and rested my head back against his
shoulder.

I felt this intense love for this man.

Something had been missing from my life, something I needed as much as
food, and this was it.

I needed a man to hold me.

This is what it's like to be loved by a man, I thought.

This is what it's like to have a dad.

I was in love.

It felt special.

It WAS special.

He was a loving man who really did care for me.  He wasn't just using me to
get off, at least no more than I was using him.  We were BOTH enjoying the
pleasure of this contact.

All I can say is, I loved it, I loved him.  I loved the pleasure of his
touch, I loved the intimacy of the contact.  He touched me all over Ð
ALL OVER, in every tender place as he washed me, but never did anything I
didn't want him to do.

During the weeks that followed I would think about him and hope he'd be
there the next time I was back at the Y so I could get him to wash me
again.

Sometimes when I'd shower alone, at home or at the Y, I'd close my eyes and
wash myself pretending that he was doing it.

I was filling a void, but didn't understand that so much then.  I just felt
a need, a love, and a desire to have him hold and touch me.

I never told my mom about him washing me.  I didn't think it was wrong, but
it was too personal.  Somehow I knew she might not like it and would want
him to stop.  I couldn't risk that, so I never said a word to anyone about
what we did.

This went on for a while, he'd always have the others leave and wash me
last, and each time we got more and more intimate.  He'd spend a lot of
time on my private areas, which I liked because no one else ever touched me
there and it felt good.  He'd carefully wash my bottom, cleaning between my
cheeks with his bare, soapy hands.  He'd take his time gently washing my
little pecker, which would always get stiff as he touched me, and best of
all, he'd pull me back against his own naked body, which made me feel close
to him.

We were touching our whole bodies, pressed against one another, my back to
his front, and sometimes his penis pressed against my bare bottom.  I could
feel he was hard as he would rub it on my cheeks.  I liked it very much.

But he never did more than that.

His dick would grow big while he was washing me.  I didn't know what it
meant, but I liked looking at it and he never seemed to mind me staring,
never even seemed to notice.

I wanted to touch his dick with my hands, but I never did.

There was a level of pretend between us, that all we were doing was just
normal washing, nothing more.  He took on the role of secret "daddy" to me
and I couldn't break that spell by touching him because it didn't seem
right.  A daddy can touch his boy's peepee to wash and take care of him,
but a boy doesn't wash or take care of his daddy that way, so I never
touched his private parts back.

Gradually I saw them less and less often.  As I got older we were going to
the Y less frequently and so where they.

One of the last times I saw him he told me they might be moving soon
because of his job.  I told I hoped he wouldn't have to leave because I'd
miss him.  He said he'd miss me too and we shared a really big, naked hug
in the shower.

I never saw him again.

I don't know his name, I don't know if I ever knew his name, so I have no
way to track him down.

This put an emptiness in my life that I felt more than before he'd been
there.  I missed my "Dad" and suddenly had this void I needed to fill.  I
wanted to find another man to fill that role of "daddy," and I began
looking.

As I got older I could be left at the Y on my own to swim and that's when I
started to sneak into the adult men's locker room.  I'd pretend to just be
going in to use the bathroom, but I'd pass the showers and look in at all
the naked men showering there, watching them wash their big hairy bodies
and lather up their hefty man parts.

The adult locker room had a private, men's only dry sauna, steam room and
whirlpool.  I started sneaking in and hanging out in them with the adult
men.

Sometimes I got kicked out, because technically I wasn't supposed to be in
there and sometimes one of the adults would complain.  But a lot of times
no one said anything and some of the men were very friendly.  Even when I
did get kicked out I'd just sneak back in at another time when someone else
was on duty.  Back then, I think they were a lot less strict about it than
they are today because I know if a dad was there with his son no one
complained.  I think the official policy was just that a minor boy had to
be accompanied by an adult, male parent or guardian.

I messed around a bit, but really got to do very little sexual in there.  I
imagine even those men who were actually interested in messing around with
me must have been terrified of getting caught doing something with a boy my
age.

Too bad.  I so wanted it.

As a result, what little bit of play I did there never went far.

Most of my experiences with male-male sexual contact at the Y happened in
the boys' locker room.  There was a lot less traffic on the boys' side and
a man or older boy being in there, naked, with another younger boy, drew
less attention than a boy being on the adult side by himself.

I went less and less often and finally stopped going to the Y regularly
about the time I was around 11 or 12.  I went very few times over the next
years, found other sexual outlets, and didn't become a regular again until
I was in college.  By then I was using the adult side and had already
become a pretty sexually active adult gay male, having nothing to do with
my life at the YMCA.

Seeing the kids come into the sauna reminded me of what I used to do.

Anyway, that was the first sexual experiences of my life and looking back
on that first time I went through the boys' locker room, I realize now what
I should have known then; that was the moment I knew I was going to be gay.

---

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