Date: Tue, 29 Sep 1998 08:58:22 -0500
From: University of Minnesota Library Patron
Subject: BELTMAN

The following story accounts, as I see it, the birth of my sexuality. It
dates back to when I was about 11 years old and in the 5th grade. I
remember growing up in my own little vacuum free from worries, the outer
world, and any conception of sex. My parents, I'm sure, wanted to wait
as late as possible to explain it to me. So anway, back then I had a few
good friends and the one in particular spotlighted in this reflection of
my life was named Patrick. He wasn't my best friend, we never spent much
time outside school, and he was a little different. He spoke with a
slight stutter, smelt a little differently, and was never too popular
with the girls. Patrick always touched the other guys. He use to pat our
behinds and occasionally would rub shoulders to get us "pumped" up for a
recess or gym activity. At about 11 years old, one afternoon, his hands
made contact with my arms for an extended period of time, and I never
was the same. I can't possibly describe how pleasing his hands felt on
my skin, but I'll try. He had very rough, white hands and long digits.
His body heat seemed to maximize at his palms, leaving his fingertips
cooler. I started desperately to crave his hands on me. I had no clue
what sex was, yet I had much the same yearning to be close to him.
   I tried, secretly, to fulfill my desires without anyone noticing. For
recess, after the guys had got sick of playing kickball, I invented a
game called "Patrick germs" which literally was created for my own
reasons. Basically, everyone ran away from Patrick and when he caught
someone, he would take them to the monkey bars and touch them all around
their body, thus "germing" them and converting them to his side. As you
might imagine, I got caught just a bit more than anyone else. There were
other things. Patrick wore a reversible leather black belt with a white
buckle that for some strange reason I had my eye on. At the time, I
thought it was just because I like the way it made him look, but looking
back I think subconsciously I was admiring the barrier from my ultimate
prize.
    I wouldn't be telling this story if it didn't end with a bang, so
let me tell you how that happened. One year later, our entire school
went to the school's gym to watch some forgettable movie and everyone
laid on the floor because our school was too cheap for chairs. I
remember specifically starting about five feet away from Patrick and his
Rebok shoes staring at him instead of the movie and something began to
buldge. I was embarrased, because I still had no clue what was
happening. However, my bodily instincts drew me closer to him. I would
pause and pretend to be watching the movie, and move. It took awhile but
I got to where my head was by the top of his pants legs, which on top of
each other made it a big barrier. I looked up and Patrick had the
biggest grin on his face. It really was an awkward moment for me. I laid
my head on his legs near his butt. Because the room was somewhat dark,
he occasionally would sit up and rub my shoulders, which was an
incredible jolt. He put his hands under my short sleeve shirt and got
down almost to my nipples. I was in heaven. I knew he knew he was giving
me great pleasure. I think that is why he did it. It looked really bad,
I can't believe we got away with it. Anyway, after that afternoon, we
bonded and I knew he knew I wanted his hands all over my body.
    So one afternoon, casually at recess, after being caught for about
the tenth time in the greatest game I've ever created, I made a new
rule. I told Patrick that I wanted to become a lifetime member in his
army and that a special ceremony needed to take place for that to
happen. Patrick lived close to school, so that afternoon, I walked to
his house, staring a little bit more at his belt shining from the
sunlight. By that time, I had coined him a new name "Beltman", as if he
was some sort of superhero. I couldn't get him off my mind.  The more I
started to look at him the more I wanted to be close to him. We went to
a Catholic grade school, so Patrick dressed the same way every day, a
light blue short sleeve cotton shirt which always let out a slight and
mysterious odor. He was quite tall for his age, and still very slender.
He had large legs covered by navy blue pants and that spectacular belt
topped off the package. That was exactly what he was wearing this
special day, my christening into his army and the day I knew I was a
little different than other developing boys.
     I had a precise plan of what I wanted this ritual to entail, and to
my surprise Patrick was willing to go along. I wanted to strip off his
Catholic school clothes, and him to strip me. Next, I wanted to spend as
long as I could touhing each other. Then, I would take his clothes and
Patrick would dress me slowly starting with his underwear, and I would
wear them home with pride. I can understand why an adult when reading
this might think this was a bit too hoaky, but I craved madly for this
interaction. So, we got to his bedroom, which was dark and quaint.
Patrick closed the door behind him and locked it. He immediately began
to smile and hardly ever relinquished his adorable grin. He stood in
front of my excited body and reached his hands to touch my shoulder.
     "Do you want to become one of us, forever?" Patrick said, role
playing the whole scenario I schemed.
     "I pledge my life to you, o great one."
     Patrick took his hands and started to rub my shoulders.
     "If you say you love me three times, I will take care of you."
     I repeated back to him at his request two times very quickly, but
suddenly something stirred inside of me. Patrick was still rubbing my
shoulders but managed to but his hands beneath my shirt. I stopped and
groaned, and for the first time that I remember specifically, something
had started to grow out of my pants. I looked him dead in the eye and he
stared at me in a very lustful manner.
     "I love you, Patrick" I said for the third time, much slower, and
with more emotion. He could tell I really meant it, and he began to pet
my hair with great care, much like an owner would his pet. I nervously
brought my hands from my side and grasped his, leading him to his belt
buckle. With his help, I slowly unlooped it. It became a bit more
difficult in time because he too had a boner. Once the belt was in my
hands I spent a moment feeling the softness of the leather, and placed
the buckle near my lips, and gently rubbed it. I was almost exploding
with new feelings, and nothing had really happened yet. Patrick gently
took the belt away to refocus my attention on what he was about to do to
me. He slowly started to unbutton my shirt. I made sure to let him know
I wanted him to touch me, and I think that excited him knowing he had
such a weapon at his disposal. My shirt came off quickly and Patrick's
eyes lit up. He placed his hands on my chest, first firmly as if he was
injecting his germs. Then, he ran them around my body rapidly, stopping
only to take his own shirt off. Then, making really my first offensive
move, I grabbed him and hugged him tightly. I was startled a bit to
realize a bigger point was nudging my belly button, but I liked that
feeling.
   Patrick moaned for the first time, and that brought me great joy. I
wanted so desperately to please him as much as he was pleasing me. On
cue now, I removed his shoes and socks, stopping briefly to tickle his
feet. I then took his pants down. My eyes caught view of his legs,
almost hairless, and fell in love. I began to rapidly move by hands up
and down his legs, brushing his crotch occasionally. Patrick moaned a
second time, and turned around. He pulled his underwear down so that I
saw his small yet impressive butt, and told me to place my hands on the
cheeks. I did so, amazed at how soft his behind was. Patrick placed his
beautiful hands on mine and led my hands to the front of his body. I, to
my surprise, was pulling down his last line of clothing. I was really
scared to look at first, so I stopped touching him. He turned around and
stood up backing away from me a little as if he knew I wanted to see
what he had. It is a picture I can't put into words. The funny thing is
I didn't want anything to do with his penis. I just remember thinking
how beautiful he was, now that I saw all of him and how special I felt
that he was willing to share that with me. 
   Patrick was still hard, but dying down a bit, so he quickly rushed to
remove me of my shoes and socks. He also tickled me, but his
hands and the sheer pleasure of tickling drove me absolutely ballistic.
He began to tickle the rest of my body. He went towards my pants, and
began to slowly remove them. I was a bit self-conscious and for the
first time felt a little guilty that I was going to be naked. I knew
that I owed him it though. I also came to the realization that this felt
good to me. And as long as I wasn't hurting anybody, how could something
so beautiful and wonderful be so wrong?
     I took Patrick's hands and pushed them downward to get it over
with, so I couldn't turn back. Turning around, I pulled my underwear
down and told him to touch my butt cheeks. He did so very firmly and I
let out a sigh. I removed the rest of my briefs and turned around.
Patrick was in heaven. He had a smerk on his face that I had never seen
before. I noticed he wasn't particularly concerned with my penis, he
liked the entire picture just like me.
     "You are so beautiful, Patrick." I said. "I love you."
     I was hoping for a return response, and Patrick embellished my
expectations. "I've always loved you. I'm so glad we are friends."
     I smiled. Patrick, still in his birthday suit, climed onto his bed
and motioned his finger to come lay next to him. For the next several
mintues, we rolled on the bed each on top of each other. He held me
tighter and tighter. I was getting harder and harder. It was also very
tiring keeping up with his speed. Patrick must have sensed it, so he
stopped, holding his arms down on the bed arching over me. His face was
just inches from mine. He was breathing heavily from the workout, and
his breath was catching my chest and making me very happy. Then, to my
shock, he suddenly leaned forward and kissed me mightily on the lips
almost jerking my head back with the force. I was startled. I never
expected and never really had fantasized about it. I was embarrased at
first, and Patrick must have sensed it. So he kissed me again, this time
much longer and more passionately moving his hands on my cheeks. I still
wasn't exactly sold, but I could tell Patrick was hurt by my lack of
enthusasism. So I abandoned every last bit of logic and kissed him back,
but much more slowly. When my lips made contact with his, a fire of
passion was ignited. That was the exact moment when I knew I was
probably gay. We laid there for a few more minutes, playing with each
other and touching each other. Sufficive to say, and some of you reading
this far will be disappointed, but we never reached orgasm. I call that
a technicality. I've reached orgasm before when the white stuff shoots
out and that wasn't half as good of feeling as that afternoon. Patrick
eventually began to dress me in his clothes. He then gave me the belt
that for strange and unknown reasons I had always admired. That was an
incredible gift for me, and I knew then that he cared about me.
    So, it's eight years later. Patrick went to a different school after
that year, and I hardly ever saw him again. He's grown up quite a bit. I
am a 20 year old who really likes fantasizing about guys (especially
JTT), and Patrick is rarely a fantasy anymore. There are literally
hundreds of guys who I would rather make love to. But something about
him still stirs something inside of me. Just yesterday, unconsciously, I
had a very erotic dream about him out of the blue and it brought back
memories and caused me to write this story. I went to my closet and got
out his clothes which I still keep as a momento. For the first time in
years, I put them on, belt and all despite the fact they were a bit
tight. It was a very erotic moment for me. I never knew if Patrick had
specific sexual intentions on our encounter that night or not. Now that
I have all these new feelings, new fantasies, I am quite intrigued at
how Patrick might fulfill them. Patrick, if you are reading this, call
me sometime. Hail Beltman!