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.

So Brad motions me over to the side of the court where there is a door with a small square window in it. “Check this out,” he says. “This is the sauna room, but it’s off right now.” He unlocks the door with a big set of keys, turns on the light and walks in. The sauna room was all fresh wood – the floor, walls, and ceiling, with a two-tier wooden bench running down the sides. I sat down on a lower bench and he sits down about a foot and a half away from me. He’s telling me about how he helped his dad remodel it over the winter, and that they had tested it that very morning.

The temperature is maybe a few degrees warmer inside – That’s it. But next he leans a little closer to me and says in a lower voice, “I feel like taking my shirt off.” I had absolutely no idea how to respond to that, so after a second or so I just said “OK.” He pulls his shirt off, and in the process moves a little closer to me, still about a foot away. I’m not at all getting the fact that this kid is making a pass at me, and I’m fighting a losing battle to make small talk and not stare at his chest and waist. As we talk I start making quick glances when I think he’s not looking. He had defined patches of sandy blond hair under each arm, and actually a tiny little bit of muscle definition on those arms too! His chest was completely hairless, with the exception of a small, thin line of blond hair poking up from his shorts to his belly button. I could feel my heart quicken, and it seemed a little harder to breathe.

I’m talking about how I helped my dad with a big project to build a clubhouse in our backyard the last summer, and how he wouldn’t let me use the circular saw, etc. But I’m barely focused on that. I’m totally checking out his chest, his waist, and noticing that he is slowly moving his right leg closer to mine as we’re talking. Now it’s about four inches away, but in the heat of the moment I still don’t totally get what is happening. I’m thinking that I should move away from him a little, otherwise he may think I’m gay! But I really don’t want to move.

Finally I look up from an extended glance at that beautiful waist hair line of his, and he is staring right at me. He says, “Yeah, I’m starting to grow hair there. Do you have any?” I replied something like “No, I’m too young for that,” and he says “Take your shirt off so we can compare.” He leaned in slightly as he said that, and our legs and thighs touched for a long second before he pulled away. Wow, the heat of his body against me felt incredible. My head is swimming at this point, and without answering him I take my shirt off. He leans in a bit to check me out and our legs touch again, this time for probably five seconds before he pulls away. He says, “Boy, you don’t have any hair at all!” I reply something really lame, like “Not yet at least.”

We start talking about what bands we like, and pretty soon he moves his leg against me again, only this time he doesn’t pull away. I’m trying to continue the conversation, but I’m finding it hard to breathe and I feel my cheeks heating up. My penis is tingling, and his heat against my thigh is the best thing I’ve ever felt. Up to that point at least.

So I glance down at his waist once again. Just as I look, the shape of his penis became outlined in his shorts, and then quickly grew even bigger and longer, moving out along his inner left thigh. It takes me a moment to figure it out – This boy is getting a hard on right in front of me! That does it, I feel my own dick getting rock hard. I glance down and could see the outline of my penis trying to burst through the front of my shorts. My underwear is barely keeping things in check.

I’m speechless and don’t know what to do. He sees me stating at his erection and says, “Do you want to see it?” My heart is pounding in my chest, my mouth is dry and I’m having trouble forming words, so I just nod. But he doesn’t pull his pants down right away. He gets up, closes and locks the door, and then motions me over a few feet to the right. “No one can see us through the window from here,” he says.

He sits down next to me, then quickly gets up again for a second so he can pull down his shorts, then his boxers. His penis bounces a little as it comes out of hiding, and it is gorgeous. It is probably six inches long, well over an inch in diameter, and has a slight bend upwards. His circumcised head is darker than his shaft, something I had never noticed about mine before. His hairless, rounded sack is already tightened against the base of his dick. The whole package is nestled in a distinct mound of sandy blond pubes. I loved the contrast between his tan body and the white skin his shorts had covered. As he sat back down against me I noticed his erection was jerking up and down slightly.

I think by now he realized that I needed some coaching, and he tells me “Go ahead and feel it if you want.” I try to reach over with my near hand but that immediately doesn’t feel like it’s going to work, so I quickly switch, lean in and reach over with my far arm and put my hand around his shaft. He tenses up and catches his breath as I close my hand around him. His erection is super warm, and I can feel it pulsing with his heartbeat. We sit there like that for a few seconds and I can feel his breath on the side of my face as he exhales. I can tell that he’s liking this but I don’t know what to do, and am afraid of doing something wrong. My own dick is raging in my shorts, and the front tip is tingling intensely.

He says “Can I see yours?” So I say “OK” again, let go of him and unbutton my shorts. As I pull them down I notice a little wet spot on my white briefs, right where the tip of my penis is bulging. I’ve never seen pre-cum before and I kind of stop for a second. I have no idea if this is normal, I start feeling embarrassed and seriously consider stopping right there. But Brad stands up and helps me pull off my underwear, so no turning back now.

We sit back down together and he is obviously enjoying checking me out. My own hard-on was about five inches long at the time, and a little thinner than Brad’s, with no curve to it at all. Without even asking he reaches over and lightly grabs it. I’ve never felt anything that wonderful before. I take an involuntary gasp and literally see spots in front of my eyes.

We sit like that for a few seconds, but then he smiles and starts slowly rubbing my penis up and down. The pleasure is intense, far better than what I’m used to when jerking off by myself. After the first couple of strokes I’m already breathing heavy, with my mouth half open, stating back at him, and staring at his hard-on. He asks, “How does it feel?” I feel the pressure rise at the head of my rock-hard dick and begin to say “That feels so awesome,” but start to cum halfway through the sentence. I end up breathlessly replying, “That fee… fff… ahhhhhh” as my orgasm hits me. I tense up and shoot the first of several small jets of semen onto the sauna floor about a foot in front of me. Must have been the quickest sexual encounter in history.

Brad keeps holding onto my penis for a few more seconds as I stop shuddering and try to compose myself. I’m still breathing hard, feeling dizzy, and a slight amount of embarrassment is already creeping in. Finally he lets go and all I can say is, “Jesus.” He tells me that this was his first time jerking anyone else off, and then asks me if I will do the same for him. Frankly I’m coming to my senses and thinking about pulling up my pants and leaving, but I don’t.

He leans back so his head is resting on the upper seat row. I reach over and take hold of his penis, which was still throbbing away and now had its own little bit of clear liquid dripping from the tip. Seeing this makes me feel a little better. Anyways I start to masturbate him and he is closing his eyes, smiling slightly and breathing in time with my strokes. After only thirty seconds or so his breathing starts getting much louder, and his smile became an “o” shape. His face and neck are getting noticeably redder. After a few more strokes his body tenses up, he grabs on to my leg and his breathing catches. He grits his teeth and lets out a quiet guttural moan, followed by a much louder groan as four big gobs of cum shoot out from the end of his penis. Some of it lands on the floor, some on his chest and a little dribbles on my hand.

Part of me is amazed at what is going on, and the other part is wondering if that is what I look like when I cum. Having his semen on my hand is actually kind of gross to me, but I copy him and keep holding onto his dick for a little while longer as he relaxes and his breathing comes back. He looks up at me and says, “That was really cool,” followed almost immediately by, “We’d better clean this up.” I just nod and notice my own penis, still semi-erect, is now dripping a bit.

So we both get up and find a couple of rags in the corner to wipe ourselves off with, which in retrospect was kind of comical because we ended up shuffling around with our pants still down. The rags are dry and smell a little like paint thinner but we use them anyway. After cleaning ourselves up Brad wipes up the mess on the floor as I watch. I ask him, “Do I look red?” He tells me “Yeah, a little, but just tell them we were playing basketball really hard.”

“Good idea,” I reply, but I really want to get out at this point so I add, “I’ve got to go.” We agree to see each other again the next time my family is back, but don’t exchange phone numbers or kiss goodbye or anything. I leave and just walk around the complex for the next 20 minutes, trying to process everything, until my family comes looking for me.

As it turned out our paths only crossed once more, about six months later at the club’s end of season party. That story is for another time!

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