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Does everybody reading this remember always having a best friend? Please write and let me know, because I don't. I had friends, and I hung out with them, and sometimes one at a time, but I don't remember thinking of any of them as any different than the others. We were all friends, some better than others, but no single one of them was any closer or special to me. Not until the summer between seventh and eighth grades.

I grew up in Anderson, Indiana. I was born in the same house I grew up in, and had the same friends all those years, until the larger school in seventh and eighth grades, then high school.

The first thing I can remember finding sexually thrilling, though I didn't know that was what it was, was a pissing contest. I think it was fourth grade or so, about eight years old. Maybe seven. Some friends and I were at the park, and it was getting late, and we probably should have started heading home. But we were eight or so, and beginning to be allowed to go play and trusted to come home on time, and beginning to stretch our boundaries and our parents' rules.

But it was getting late, the sun was nearly setting, and I had to pee, but I didn't want to go home. If I did, like all of them, I wouldn't be allowed to go back out. David said he had to pee, and went behind the little shed the mowers and rakes and stuff for the park were kept in. I followed with the others, and giggling like the little kids we were, we all whipped out our winkies and sent streams of pee onto the back wall of the shed. The sun just illuminated our hands and the ends of our thingies, and I could see them as we laughed and peed. And for the first time, I felt a weird tingly-tickly sensation in my lower tummy. It was just like when I hung over the parallel bars on my waist, and if I got it just right, it tickled and tingled down there like crazy. Now, watching them hold themselves like that, and being able to see the ends of them, those funny tingles shot up from down there. I loved the feeling.

I also loved how they were all so different. Some seemed sort of rounded, some more pointed, and some even had a bundle of skin on the end that they had to pull back, making the end come poking out in a weird and fascinating way. They were all so interesting.

After that, I tried pretty often to have to pee when I was with the guys, so that I could see their things again. It was always fun and exciting.

It seemed like a normal kind of game, and I didn't think anything about it, other than it was a kind of secret fun that I didn't tell anyone about. I don't know why, it just didn't seem the kind of thing you told about.

By sixth grade I began to realize that I liked looking at other boys, and that I wanted to see them naked, and touch them in private places, and that it wasn't normal. My friends were saying the same things about girls, but girls didn't interest me nearly as much. They started saying that boobs weren't so bad instead of insisting that they were gross. And they started talking about girls' butts, and even that weird, forbidden, unknown place, that mystery of mysteries; the vagina.

At first it was secret-talk, one on one, whispered in near shame and with blushed faces and embarrassed grins. Then later more loudly and in groups. By the end of sixth grade, most of my friends were openly saying words like pussy, clit, and twat, and not as curses. They compared girls' anatomies, remarking on who had the biggest tits, the nicest asses, the prettiest hair or lips or eyes. Who walked sexiest. Girls became the most common topic by the end of sixth grade, and that summer was filled with exciting things.

We got daring and bold with each other about sex things and nudity. David had a pool at his house, and we spent a lot of time there. Several boys playing in the water and beginning to talk about girls led to bulges in our trunks. It led to bulges in theirs, anyway, and that led to a bulge in mine.

That summer all of us compared our willies for the first time. For the first real time, anyway. Before then we had sort of shown and compared, not really comparing sizes. I liked it a lot, and wished I had the guts to try to get the guys to all the time, but I was sensing that it would make me stand out, be different, and I didn't want that.

When a bunch of us were over at Jim's house on a weekend, we did a real comparison for the first time. They were bragging about having huge dicks when they grew up, and Lance said he didn't have to wait to grow up, that he had a huge one already. When he swam with us I had noticed he did have a big bulge in his trunks, like Mike and Paul. Some of the guys laughed and called him a liar, and he said he would prove it if everybody showed theirs so he wasn't the only one. It took a minute, but we were all talked into showing ours too. I wasn't talked into it, I said I would when David and Mike said they would if Lance did. I got hard even thinking about seeing theirs, like I usually did by then at even the thought of it, and I got worried that I would be the only one hard. Some of the guys had to be talked into it, sort of, but we all stood in a circle and pulled out or dicks. Some of the guys weren't hard, while some of us were. I was relieved to see others were, and I wondered if that meant they liked this the way I did.

Then they said how it had to be hard to really see what size it was. The guys with soft ones played with theirs to get them hard. Lance and Mike were so close in size that they had to drop their pants and underwear and stand face to face. It was still hard to tell, so they had to put them side by side, pointing at each other, and step right up to each other so that the ends touched each other's skin of their hips.

Lance was so worried that his would touch Mike's that it was almost funny. I thought how if it was me there, I would be touching it to his on purpose. I would hold onto his, on purpose, pretending I had to so that it would be steady or something. I wondered if I could come up with some reason to put my hand under his balls and hold them and play with them.

Mike said it wasn't fair that Lance had that pointy, loose skin on the end of it, so Lance had to pull it back. Seeing Lance pull that skin back so on purpose made my dick move in my hand. He held that skin back and they leaned together until the end of Lance's pink, shiny head touched the skin next to the base of Mike's willy. There was still just a bit of space between the tip of Mike's prick and Lance's hip.

That was the most excitingly sexy moment of my life so far. I was so hard. I knew how to make it hard, and how to play with it, but I didn't know what I was doing yet, so what tingles I got from touching it were nothing compared to what I got later when I learned how to masturbate for real. But the tingles I got from being so close to Mike's and Lance's hard peters were the best ones so far. And I noticed how much I liked seeing their butts. The curve as they protruded outward from their backs, then out and around and back in at their thighs. And the crease up the center, hiding but accentuating what was inside of it by the hiding of it.

I couldn't get those sights out of my head. Not that I wanted to, either. I held onto those visions on purpose. It was excruciatingly exciting.

I stayed hard for so long after that that I worried it had broken and would stay hard forever. I got worried that I would have to tell my folks and my doctor why my willy was hard and wouldn't get soft again. It was mortifying. When it finally went down later, I got so relieved.

There were other exciting times that summer. Like when Mike dared us all to skinny dip in David's pool when his folks were away. We weren't even supposed to be at his house, let alone using his pool when they weren't home. Mike took off his trunks and threw them on the deck, laughing and calling us cowards. David took his off. Then Gary. Then me. Then the rest. Then we ended up pushing and shoving each other around and under the water and wrestling around. They called each other and me fags for having wood, but they all had it. Health class said it happened sometimes and didn't mean anything, and we all said so. But I knew mine meant something. I just knew it. Because there were crazy tingles in it, in my tummy, and my chest, and really all over and all inside of me. Especially during the play fights and wrestling around with them all being naked and hard.

I got up the guts to accidentally touch back after I had been touched a few times. I figured it was all accidents anyway. But mine weren't, not after the first ones on my woody. That hardness there, and the softness of their balls, and how squishy they felt. And I even felt David's, Ben's, and Paul's butts. So smooth! So firm. So soft!

I wished a thousand times that we did that again, but no one ever did. I wanted to, but I was far too shy to bring it up, even if I knew how to. I was like Steve and Casey, quieter and less rambunctious. Only Mike and Lance were so brash and bold. Sometimes Paul. Maybe it was that they were slightly the older ones of us. Or maybe it was that they had the biggest ones. Or maybe they had the biggest ones because they were slightly older.

Lance didn't start much of the sexy stuff. Really only that comparison episode, probably just to prove he thought he had the biggest.

Paul never started anything like that, and sometimes didn't take part when it was started.

Mike liked to pull down the front of his trunks and flash his wiener at us. It was sort of his version of giving the finger. He would even do it when he was wearing shorts that he could yank the front down quickly. I found that so very exciting. It made things happen in my pants, and in my belly, chest, and all over my skin when he did that. It started sometime in fourth grade, but by the summer after sixth, he was doing it more often, but only when it was a smaller group of us. If there were lots of us, he never did that.

They called him a fag, or told him to put it away. They all looked away and laughed and didn't look back. It was really difficult for me to look away. I never saw any bulges in their swim trunks when he did that at David's pool, but I would have to make sure I was in the water or lying on my stomach to hide what happened in mine.

By that summer after sixth grade, Mike was pulling his trunks or shorts down farther, and seeing his balls was a regular thing. I can't even describe how huge a thrill that was becoming. I started saying things to him when it was a small enough group of us so that he would do it. Mike's was the second-largest of all of us, only Lance had a longer one, and when Mike would flash it, it would sort of sway or swing, and that was just so exciting. It was never little, or all shriveled up or something, like sometimes mine was. But mine would so quickly get hard when he did that. Even when I started thinking about getting him to do it, mine would start getting hard.

I loved having it hard. It tingled and tickled, and I just really loved it. By my twelfth birthday I was playing with it everyday; in the morning before I got out of bed, when I was alone during the day, and at night in bed. I didn't know if that was normal or not, but I knew that what I liked to look at or think about wasn't normal at all. By twelve, I knew that liking to see naked boys wasn't right or normal. I knew I was supposed to like girls, and thinking about girls, and that thinking about naked girls and girl parts was supposed to make it hard. It did, sort of, but it wasn't nearly as exciting or interesting as thinking about naked boys or boy parts.

But my life changed dramatically one night late in the summer between seventh and eighth grades.