Date: Fri, 18 Feb 2011 04:58:52 -0800 (PST) From: The Paternal Watcher Subject: Junior High 3 "Okay," Harold said to me, gripping his towel tightly at his waist, "on the count of three we throw the towels into the dryer and run up to my room." My breath came shallowly as I nodded agreement. My knuckles were white against the beige towel about my middle, the towel which served as my only garment. I looked to my wet clothes in the dryer, and back to Harold. "One . . ." he said, pausing more than I wanted him to, "two . . ." he continued, moving faster than I would have liked, "THREE!" I whipped off my towel and hurled it, not taking even a moment to see if it made it inside the appliance. I sprinted through the kitchen as fast as I could, the slam of the dryer door my only evidence that Harold was behind me. Briefly I wondered if he'd somehow tricked me, and if I was the only one naked. I wanted to look over my shoulder and check. I wanted to see him behind me naked. Around the corner, up the stairs, left to his bedroom, and I all but dove towards the bag of clothing and toiletries I had packed for this weekend adventure. Harold kept his shades down, so when a heartbeat later he entered the room and closed the door, we were in darkness. I heard him sit upon the bed, less than two feet from where I was on the floor, trying to find underpants by feel alone. Then an explosion of light dazzled my eyes, as Harold turned on the light at his bedside to aid in his own search for coverings. I saw him, sitting there facing me, in all his nakedness, and then he plunged us back into darkness. In that brief moment, I forgot that I was looking for clothes. Again he turned on the light, and I was more prepared; he was moving around but my eyes did not follow his hands to see what he was casting about for. Instead they were locked upon his mysterious parts, which were bouncing around as he looked to and fro. And again I was frozen, unable to use the light to search for anything to cover my own nudity. And then, darkness. When he turned it on the third time I didn't even try to use the light in my search. I looked at his penis, hanging limply against his hanging sac. I saw that he had a patch of pubic hair much like my own, but darker as his own hair was a deeper brown than my towhead. His penis looked just like mine in every way, excepting only the angle I viewed it from. My paralysis was broken as he finally managed to locate his own underwear, pulling the white briefs up and over his legs. He left the light on, and I easily found and pulled on clean, dry clothing. "How about a snack?" he asked. I nodded mutely, sure that my voice would emit only a squeak if pressed into service, and followed him down to the kitchen. After eating we played more games, watched a movie . . . the sleepover continued in a completely ordinary manner, as if the remarkable moment of nakedness had not even occurred. It had occurred, though, and I knew it. The rest of the week I was completely obsessed with it. I had seen my friend's stuff! He had seen mine! I wanted to see him naked again, but contriving a way was completely beyond my imagination. I wanted to see what other boys had in their pants, too; in the school hallways I started thinking about that. Were they all getting hair down there like Harold and I were? Were we blooming early, or late, or were we just like everyone else? I didn't quite draw a connection between my new fascination and sex. Yes, I knew that the penis and sex were closely linked, but sex talk I had heard from other boys had to do with fingers, so obviously that wasn't connected. Penises and sex were an adult thing, and I was a long, long way from being an adult. Heck, I wasn't yet five feet tall! I only got to go over to Harold's house once after school that week, and nothing unusual happened. Even more frustrating, I wasn't able to sleep over his house the next weekend. I started to worry that I would never again have a chance to see his penis and his bouncing balls. I was consumed by a fascination that I simply could not comprehend.