J S Morbius:
Beth Carter: http://bethdcarter.blogspot.com/
"Take off your clothes," Jamison had mentioned, as he shed his boots, socks, and trousers. He was already shirtless from the start of our trip. "We're going skinny dipping. The water's cold, so don't be surprised if your ball sack shrinks half its size." He laughed, finally dropping his white Jockey shorts.
I was down to my undershorts and t-shirt when he begged, "Don't let me find you hiding in your underwear. This is something men do together." He dove into the still water sending a ring of waves bounding over the rocky shelf beside me.
Overwhelmed with his body's masculine beauty not to mention, his long, thick dick long, in a and semi-flaccid state before he went beneath the water's surface, I rushed to remove my remaining clothes and jump head first to conceal my erection before he surfaced. The drop in temperature from one hundred to apparently fifty grabbed my balls and dick like a frigid, metal vice, shrinking them back to their smaller size and shape.
We splashed around in the water for nearly an hour, until we surfaced under the willows on a flat slab of rock.
I can still visualize Jamison's nude body, so perfect to a fourteen-year-old boy, me, still going through adolescent changes. He acted carefree and natural but never suggested anything sexual that afternoon. He treated me like his little brother, but still there was that unique glimmer of bonding I later recognized, existing between gay men whose love is strictly platonic.
We talked about dreams we shared, his usually experienced with men and in my case with other boys until the breezes began cooling the afternoon.
We did return to that swimming hole over the years. When I turned sixteen, Jamison allowed me to drive. I had hoped we would have gone after I turned eighteen, but he had already departed after hearing my dad was going to rent out the farm, and we'd be moving to California.