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I grew up in a new addition on the edge of a small Midwestern town in the eighties. There were a couple other kids in the new subdivision but none of them were my age. Not close enough to be good friends, anyway. So I was pretty lonely. The bike ride into town was too dangerous, as the road was narrow, curvy, hilly and didn't have a siding or shoulder to speak of, so I grew up mostly alone at home. I had friends at school, and we'd get our folks to drive us to each others' houses on weekends and for several days on school breaks and vacations.

By the time I was thirteen, it was becoming pretty clear I was gay. The gym showers in seventh grade were all the proof I needed. I had sexy dreams about guys and sex, but not about girls. Back then it was not cool to be gay at all, so I hid it. I was positive there were no other gay guys at school. Our school and the town were pretty small.

In seventh and eighth grades, I rode further away from home to find things to do. Brent lived the closest, so he and I rode around on our bikes quite a lot. Roger lived sort of next closest, but still too far to ride easily, but he lived closer to Brent, so sometimes I was the odd one out and Roger and Brent did stuff together.

It was over the summer before high school that I was out riding on my own one day, and I found this old junkyard. Sort of a junkyard. It was deep in the woods, with some old buildings that were mostly fallen down and rotted away, and was mostly semi-trucks, box trailers and flatbeds, and old construction equipment. The old road from it was only about a mile or so long from the old junkyard to the highway and was overgrown with weeds and even trees. The place must have been abandoned decades ago.

It was kind of cool, so I started spending time there when Brent was hanging out with Roger. I wanted to tell them about the place, but I also liked that only I knew about it.

After a couple of weeks, I discovered that someone else knew about it. I noticed things moved or changed around. One time I noticed an old couch inside one of the old trailers was moved closer to the doors. Other things were moved around too.

So one weekend, when I knew Brent was staying over at Roger's, I told my folks I was staying over at Roger's with Brent for the weekend. I took food and drinks, a lantern, and planned on staying overnight and seeing if I could catch this other person there. I also took the .22 rifle I'd gotten for my 12th birthday. Just in case it was a hobo or someone dangerous.

I spent the day building up a kind of fort between two old truck trailers that didn't have wheels or suspensions and were right on the ground. At each end were piles of truck tires, so once you climbed over them you were hidden. I ran around playing like I was a soldier sometimes, and played other games with myself - you know.

As it got dark, I decided to stay in the big trailer with the stacks of tires. The doors could be closed so it was sort of safe. There was also an old beanbag made from denim, so it would be kind of comfortable.

It was quiet and I didn't hear a sound all night.

The next day, I was running around when I heard what sounded like one of the old trailer doors being opened. I got super nervous and scared, and sneaked my way over to where the sound came from. I heard some other sounds too. When I finally saw someone moving around, it turned out to be Denver, a kid from school. He was a year older than me, already going to high school. I sort of knew him, but not much. He was one of the regular guys, kind of a loner, not all that popular, and not one of the smartest. He was lean and trim, had a few muscles, and was always a bit tanned.

Last year I'd gotten to see him in the gym showers. Not bad at all. He had sandy-blond hair and brown eyes, and plenty of pubes above a long dick with a rounded helmet. And a really pink sack with decent sized nuts. He was pretty hot.

I knew he wasn't a jerk or anything, so I dared myself to give him a scare. I waited until he was pushing an old work cart toward a trailer and then shouted, "What are you doing here?" in my best old man voice. "Get outta my junkyard!"

He jumped like crazy! It was hilarious! But he didn't run or anything. He looked at where I was hidden behind an old bulldozer and said, "Who the fuck are you?"

I laughed and walked out where he could see me and said, "It's Paul."

"I know you! You were in my gym class last year in junior high."

"Yeah. I guess I'll see ya this year in high school, too."

"You gonna be a freshman, I guess, huh?"

"Yeah."

We ended up talking and having fun and becoming friends. We hooked up at the junkyard almost every weekend after that. The two of us sort of fixed up one of the best truck trailers. We eventually had chairs and a table, a battery lamp and a kerosene lamp, bug spray, snacks, and some supplies. It was about as good as a hunting cabin, really.

We'd run around playing war and cop and robber and all kinds of games. We had some great times.

He had a very nice bod, and he often went shirtless in the summer heat. He had nice brown nipples, a flat tummy, and nice pecs and biceps. He was in good shape. I learned that he did a lot of house repairs with his dad through the week for his home repair company. All that lifting wood sheets and lumber and roofing tiles really gave Denver a great bod.

Best of all was how he liked wearing short cut-off jeans. Man, I could see he had a full package and a nice butt. Sometimes I'd get peeks up the short legs of those cut-offs. Everyone wore tighty-whities back then, and the glimpses of those white cotton briefs up the legs of his shorts always sprung me fully boned.

The times we'd take a piss together were awesome! He had a rounded dickhead with a slightly open slit on the very tip. The edges were soft and subtle and gave it a real rounded appearance. I even saw his pubes a couple times. But we never dropped our pants in front of each other. If we had to take a crap, we did that alone behind the 'crapperpillar' as we called the oldest, rustiest Caterpillar backhoe on the edge of the junkyard.

It was a majorly horny summer. I was almost dying from a nearly terminal case of the hornies. Sometimes when we slept in the trailer I'd imagine cuddling up with him and kissing and touching and 'doing it' even though I wasn't sure what doing it was. I imagined butt sex and blow-jobs and jacking each other off. Sometimes I even dared to whack it in the dark in the trailer with him there.

Anyway, we become pretty good friends. When school started, he was on my bus. He was one of the very first kids picked up by our bus. Brent was picked up right after I was, so I ended up introducing them to each other on the first day of school. Roger was next, so the four of us were friends on the bus.

I had Roger in my gym class, and a couple other friends, but not Brent or Denver. Darn it. But I did get to see a couple other friends naked that I hadn't seen before, so that was sort of cool. I wanted to see Denver naked again so bad. I guess I really had the hornies, or a crush, on Denver. Bad.

Anyway, not long after school started, Denver and I were hanging out at our private junkyard having a good time, when a storm started rolling in. So we go into the decent trailer with all our stuff and scooted the old couch up closer to the doors so we could watch the storm. It was going to be a good one, we could tell. When late summer storms came in from the southeast, they were always strong ones.

So the wind picked up and the rain started and the lighting and thunder got closer and closer. The summer heat waned as the storm blew over us, then the temperature dropped a lot. It even got chilly. The wind was blowing right into the trailer. He shook out the blanket and we got under it. We talked and joked and watched and listened to the rain.

Sitting on that old couch, side-to-side, in the cold, cuddled up under the blanket, it was... I just felt so... snuggly? It was really nice. His body heat felt so good.

I kept thinking about putting my arm around his shoulders, or putting my hand on his warm thigh.

We stayed there for a while. I would have been happy to fall asleep together like that. But we got up and closed the doors and turned on the kerosene heater and had snacks.

It was drafty and chilly in that trailer. And damp. The heater helped a lot, but we soon ended up on the couch again, under the blanket. Man, that was awesome. We kicked off our shoes and pulled our feet up under the blanket too.

It was so dark, with only the kerosene heater for light. Quiet, except for frogs and crickets. And the occasional roll of distant thunder. Sometimes it would rain for a bit, or the wind would pick up. It was both cozy and scary.

We told scary stories and bad jokes. We talked about girls and sex. We were both such total virgins, but we talked about what it must be like to screw a girl. We wondered how close to a pussy it was to spit in your hand and jerk it all loose. We agreed it might be the closest we could get.

We wondered if blow-jobs were really better than sex. We'd heard older guys saying so.

We wondered if we could kiss good or not.

"I heard that some guys practice kissing with each other," he said.

"I did too," I agreed, hopefully not too enthusiastically.

"So, you wanna?" he asked.

"I sure don't want my first kiss with a girl to be bad," I said.

I could see his lips in the lamp light. They looked so soft and sweet. He had nice lips. His upper had a little bit of that Cupid's bow curve to it, and his lower was sort of pouty and big and juicy. They were always so red. Man, the hundreds of times I'd thought about kissing them!

We looked at each other for a long time. It seemed like ten minutes, but I'm sure it wasn't.

When he leaned closer, I did too. My stomach was turning over inside me. I could feel my chest shaking. It was hard to breathe.

Our lips got closer. I could hear his breath and feel it on my mouth. Our lips touched. It was awkward and weird and thrilling. We pursed them, relaxed them, moved them together for a few seconds. Then he pulled back.

"How was that?" he asked.

I was fully hard... that's how it was.