Two Boys, Two Basketballs and a Sauna

My first sexual encounter happened in the spring of 1982. I had just turned 14, and was with my family at a sportsman’s club that we were members of near Orlando, Florida. The club had horseback riding, tennis, skeet shooting, a gym, and dining facilities. We would normally spend the day there and cap it off with a nice dinner.

I was tall for my age at 5’6” and pretty thin, but was definitely a late bloomer when it came to sexual characteristics. I could count the number of dark brown hairs just above my circumcised penis, probably less than 20, had no hair under my arms at all, and only a few short dark hairs at the base of my legs. I had only started masturbating a few months previously, and was somewhat concerned that I seemed to be mostly interested in fantasizing about other boys.

That evening my sisters and I were playing HORSE at the club basketball court while my parents got ready for dinner. The rest of the court was deserted except for one boy down at the other end shooting hoops by himself. It came time for dinner and my sisters left for the dining room. I wasn’t that hungry thanks to a late snack, and told them to let mom and dad know that I would meet everyone after dinner.

So with them gone, it was just me shooting hoops at one end of the court and the other boy at the far end. Soon enough my ball rolled to his end of the court and I said “hi” as I went to pick it up. We got to talking and shooting baskets.

His name was Brad, and he had just turned 15 a month to the day before my birthday. He was shorter than me by an inch and a little stockier but still thin, with sandy blond hair that was a little longer than mine, well over his ears. He obviously hadn’t started shaving yet but had a line of honey-blond peach fuzz on his upper lip. He was definitely tanner than me and looked like a surfer kid. In fact, looking back on the experience, I think he might have been a little stoned.

He told me that his dad was the maintenance manager for the club, and he was stuck waiting for him to come back from some sort of emergency on the other side of the property. He was probably going to be gone at least another hour.

Brad was wearing a white T-shirt from the rock band The Who, a pair of blue OP shorts and sandals. He had a nice butt, and nice strong legs, with a fair amount of blond leg hair going up from his ankles to his knees, but much less visible above that. I had a thing about body hair at the time (probably because I barely had any) and I really wanted to see if he had any hair under his arms or anywhere else. He must have noticed that I was spending far more time checking him out than shooting hoops, and that every time he raised the ball over his head I was pretty obviously trying to look down his armpits or at his waist.

Finally he kind of laughed a little and said “What are you looking at?” I was horrified that he saw me looking and stammered, “Nothing. What do you mean? I’ve got to go anyways.”

I started walking to the exit, which was on the far side of the court, silently cursing myself the whole way. When I had almost reached the door he called back, “Wait, I was only fucking with ya! Come here – I want to show you something.”

So I went back, thinking that I would look more guilty if I left, and promising myself to keep my eyes away from his nether regions from now on.