Amir's Brother - The Shower Guest

 The first time I took a shower with other people was very arousing for me even though we never touched each other.

  I was 8, my friend's father told us both to go shower, our pajamas and towels were ready and folded up in the bathroom. Amir and I started getting undressed. I couldn't help but glance over at him. It was my first time I remember seeing a boy my age naked but Amir seemed unaffected by my nudity nor did he seem to care much about his nakedness. Amir's shower was probably big enough for two adults to fit comfortably so we were easily able to have our own space while bathing. Amir's penis was the same as mine just a different skin shade. Amir was Arab in some way but I don't remember if he was Egyptian, Iranian or something else but I know Amir and his family spoke Arabic.

 His brother who was 12 came in the restroom, he knocked on the shower door and spoke to Amir in Arabic. Amir told me his brother was going to get in. It was so exciting to me to see this older boy naked, much longer penis than Amir and I with quite a few hairs sprouting. The penis and especially the scrotum were so many shades darker than the rest of his body. I have never stared so hard in my life, it was as if Amir had disappeared because I was so focused on his older brother. He pulled back his foreskin to clean his penis and my mouth must have been just wide open, the way that oversized head slowly emerged out of that foreskin. He stood letting the water hit it and wiped it with a towel.

  I think Amir's brother may have taken notice that I was staring because he popped the biggest boner I had ever seen, keeping in mind I was 8 and he was 12. "His gets like that sometimes" Amir said to me. "Do that cool thing" Amir commanded. Once again his brother switched to Arabic and Amir dropped the subject. I continued to stare and his dick remained long and stiff but he didn't say anything about it instead he started asking me about cartoons and stuff. I was erect too but and I don't remember if Amir was because I honestly stopped paying attention to his body once his brother got in. My little boner was nothing compared to Amir's brother. I don't know what Amir meant by "that cool thing" but I have an idea. I wish he would have done it.

 If I could go back in time, I would have "accidentally" touched or bumped Amir's brother. I think he was on the verge of doing something but had some restraint. I really could have worked harder for something to happen.

Anonymous

My First Blow-Job

 My first blow job was with a guy who was my frequent jacking buddy back in the 70's. This happened when he was with me at a hamburger place. We went in the bathroom and locked the door so we could jack. We both had boners going. He asked if I ever had a blow job. I didn't even know what it meant. Then he said for me to turn around facing him. He got down on his knees.



  The instant his mouth closed on my dick I went into a hyper-horny state and immediately got crazy hard plus the cum was already rising. The combined warmth around my dick and the multitude of tingling sensations from tongue and lips was all crazy good. I never felt like that while jacking, not even if somebody else did it.

 Before he could get any rhythm going I caught a big climax as I plunged his head to my mid-section. It was a gargantuan load carelessly spurting in his mouth. He jumped back and spit it on the floor. He said I cheated him because I didn't let him really do it right. He jacked off at hyper speed and his bell-bottoms were swinging around while he jacked.  His shot landed close to mine that he had spit out.

 After we went home I was still hard from the fantastic blow job, I just had to fire another load-off.

Anonymous

Jeremy's Rejection

I had already had several sexual experiences by the time I was 15 with other boys my age. I started pretty young, around 10 or so. I thought I was pretty good at picking out who was willing to have some fun with me and who I shouldn't waste my time on. I met Jeremy, a 14 and a half year old, white boy with a shaved and nearly bald head. He looked like a skinhead, people would say but Jeremy was always quick to remind you that he wasn't a racist he just happened to like his hair short.

Jeremy was the first friend I made after moving into a new town, I was a pretty gregarious youngster once you got to know me but I was too shy to take that first step in making a new friend out of a stranger. Jeremy came to me and we hit it off right away. At first I didn't think about him in a sexual way but eventually those fantasies began to invade my head every night. One day he invited me to his house and said that his Aunt who was his legal guardian would be gone for at least 6 hours and we would have the house to ourselves.

"Wow! Could it be?" I asked myself. I didn't know if we would end up doing something but I was very hopeful because he made a big deal about nobody being home. I went to his house and he answered the door completely nude. No, not true at all but he was wearing only one thing, his P.E. shorts from school. I don't even think he was wearing underwear. No shirt, no shoes, yes service? I became very aroused and excited about the possibility of getting to take those shorts down.

An hour went by and Jeremy was still playing his video game and has not made any moves on me. I wasn't into video games and I was pretending to be interested because I was waiting for the next thing to happen. I thought about it a bit, Jeremy had made all the moves. He invited me over to be with him alone, he was almost naked and now the next move was up to me. I went in the bathroom and stuck my erection out in my underwear and pulled my pants back up. I adjusted myself in such a way that my erection would be more obvious. I saw Jeremy look down at it once and turn back to his game so I upped the ante and started to rub on my pants.

I did this because I was even more certain after Jeremy glanced over at my enhanced bulge that he wanted to do something. I started to rub my penis through my shorts and tried to make it look like I wasn't thinking about it, I just wanted him to notice and he did. "What are you doing?" I looked down at my hand and never stopped moving it, "I just feel like jacking off so bad" I replied. I expected that the next thing that would happen would be the beginning of a mutual side by side jack off or perhaps something more intense.

His response was "Then go home! What the fuck?"

I could tell immediately by the disgust in his voice that Jeremy was not interested at all. I started to back peddle and told him that it was a joke I got from a movie. I stuck to that story and he backed off but now there was tension in the room whereas before he was in a light mood. I tried to lighten things back up but Jeremy kept very stoic even as he played his favorite video game. Then someone knocked at the door, it was another boy with a backpack holding one of those giant CD cases it was filled with games and music. Jeremy's mood lightened once again but I was not out of the woods, "guess what this guy just said..." Jeremy began to recount everything that I had said and done, the rubbing all of it reported to this other kid that I had just met. He then began teasing me. The same thing repeated 3 more times as Jeremy's friends showed up to play video games. I felt more uncomfortable then that I ever had in my life but I didn't leave because I thought that to leave would be to admit guilt.

When I legitimately had to use the restroom, someone banged on the door and told me to stop jacking off and on the way out as everybody was leaving I picked up the giant CD case to be nice and the boy started screaming that he would have to wash it. He picked it up with a paper towel making a big scene out of it. I started to walk home my face was hot with embarassment "bye faggot" one of the boys called out. The only good thing was that Jeremy went to another school and this incident never made it into my school in a big way, people heard about it but Jeremy and his friends weren't there to keep it alive but in the neighborhood when I tried to speak to Jeremy or any of the other boys I was met with a cold stare.

Romes

Trying on Mikey's Pants

Back in a certain era boys went through a time of wearing splashy bright colors, high-heeled shoes called fruit boots, and tight, tight, tight pants. During the peak of that fad, my dad was stationed at a base on a tropical island in the Pacific. It was an "accompanied" assignment, meaning that families were welcome. So my mother and little sister and I went along. We found ourselves stuck for several months in a self-contained little universe. Except for TV we were totally separated from the mainland and from what was happening in pop culture and teen fashion. Life on the island was fairly conservative, so I was not prepared for something that showed up in the PX one day.

Mom and my sister and I were out shopping. I hated shopping -- until my eyes landed on a certain mannequin in the boys department. I stopped and stared. My mouth was probably hanging open.

The mannequin displayed a pair of boys pants. Not your everyday school trousers, but pants like I'd never seen before, pants like no boy had ever imagined.

To begin with, they were striped. Slightly wiggly vertical stripes ran from the ankles all the way up to the waistband. Next, they were tight, so skinny-tight that even the dummy looked constrained. Third, the cuffs were bell-bottom. But those things weren't what made them spectacular. It was the colors!

Those wiggly stripes were alternately dyed bright yellow, florescent orange and flamingo pink. Each stripe was about two inches wide and the overall effect of the clashing colors pulled your eyeballs out of their sockets. The pants were indescribably breathtaking, and I had to have them.

Ignoring my mother's protests, I hustled to the display and found a pair in my size. I imagined myself showing up at school the next day with my legs, butt and crotch clad in such luminosity! Every kid in the building would envy me!

But Mom was apparently in no mood to let me be seen in anything of that nature. Her first "no" sounded negotiable, so I tried again. Each time I approached her the "NO" grew more determined. I pleaded with her, and she gave her final decision in words that every kid hates to hear: "No child of mine is going to wear those silly pants. Put them back."

I was crushed. For days I wouldn't talk to her, slamming doors and stomping around until Dad went into his Master Sergeant mode and instructed me that "You WILL behave in this house!"

Then came the second shock. A few days went by. I arrived at school one morning only to find my friend Mikey prancing along the hall in... you guessed it ... a pair of MY brilliantly striped neon pants! Friend or not, I instantly hated him.

He wore those pants at least three times each week. I couldn't stand it. He was so flashy that it made me sick. I generally wore a pair of brown corduroys to school, a step up from jeans. But nothing I owned could compare with that damn Mikey!

When I noticed Mikey from the rear his ass looked like the entire rear seam of the bright pants had receded into his butt crack. If I noticed him from the front, the stripes accentuated a strange rounded lump at the bottom of his crotch. And not only were the pants tight and brilliant, but the waist was cut low making them look as if they were just barely hanging onto his hips. They appeared to be on the verge of falling off his narrow buns at any minute. The bell-bottoms around his ankles added their own effect, flapping as he walked and giving the impression of two parachutes drifting downward.

Mike was still a friend, even though I resented him like hell for having the pants I wanted.

He and I were messing around at his house one day after school and talking about the pants. We made a deal. Mikey said I could try them on if I would be careful and not get them dirty. We negotiated back and forth and came up with a deal. I could wear them in his room for a few minutes if he could try my fruit boots.

Mikey and I were reasonably close friends but we had never undressed together. So peeling out of our pants was a first. I noticed immediately that he wore briefs. That surprised me because I had graduated to boxers way back in fifth or sixth grade.

Soon the reason for Mikey's un-cool underwear became clear. He looked at my boxers and said we had to switch underpants too. I wanted to know why. He said we could never get the brilliantly striped tight pants to look right with a pair of boxers bunched up underneath them. Mikey claimed that some guys who wore very tight pants went without underwear altogether. That gave me something crazy to think about.

So we were at the moment that all boys eventually face with a good friend: Strip out of our underwear in front of each other or strip separately in private.

We stood there for a tick or two, and then both of us took hold of our elastic and slid our underwear down. We were all business, not saying a word but certainly aiming our eyes back and forth and examining what popped into view.

To my horror I felt my dick sort of thickening and starting that weird feeling of a rising boner. Not something I wanted Mikey to see. I had my hand ready to grab his underpants the instant he stepped out of them. Mikey seemed to be in a hurry too, kind of halfway but not totally turning away from me. It was my first time to see his peter. Interestingly, it hung down but also curved slightly to one side and stuck out a little bit. Within seconds we had traded. His underwear hid my junk and vice-versa.

Next, it took both of us to get the striped pants on me. That was more difficult than I expected. Mikey helped me pull them over my butt and I soon understood why the boxers wouldn't work. I'd never worn pants that were so tight. I'm still not sure whether I was a little larger than Mikey or whether the intense tightness was part of the overall style. There was no spare room in the trousers. They were as tight as skin and they forced me to stand awkwardly, trying to make myself taller and skinnier. I was almost immobilized by the psychedelic trousers -- could hardly take a step. The crotch was particularly tight. My dick and balls were squeezed into a tight lump, all mashed tightly together. Each step I took rolled my entire package to the right or left, making me constantly aware of what was going on down there.

Mikey wanted to know how I liked them. He was staring straight my crotch and I felt self-conscious about my junk, sure he could tell that I was sprouting a boner. My answer was something like "Weird!"

"I know," he answered. "Sit down and see what happens."

When I settled into his chair the geometry of the pants shifted, tightening even further around my crotch and condensing my genitals into a very uncomfortable situation. I did exactly what I'd seen Mikey do: Jam my hand into my crotch, position it beneath my strangled balls and give them a quick upward shove. That made things a little better. Maybe another adjustment would help, but I didn't want to touch my junk again in front of Mikey.

By now he had on my fruit boots and my cords. I knew the cords wouldn't squeeze his balls or crush his dick. But while he watched me give my crotch another simi-secret lift, a peculiar thing happened. He pointed toward my stiffening bulge and started to say something, but thought better of it.

Meanwhile the mod pants were not only squeezing my privates but also embarrassing me. "How do you stand these things?" I complained, adjusting my crotch again.

"Stand up and let me see how tight everything is," Mikey suggested. When I was on my feet he pointed toward my tightly draped rear end.

"I'm just gonna feel, okay? No funy business, huh? After all, they're mine."

So there I stood in the wildest pants on the island, my bud Mikey first feeling my butt. His touch on the tight pants was like electricity, sending a tingle around my hips to my dick.

Then he came around front and asked, "How's everything here?" At the same time he gave my crotch a fleeting touch.

"I'll tell you what's really bad about these pants," he said. "If you get..." he stopped talking, maybe looking for the right word, maybe having second thoughts about what he was going to say. He started over: "If you get..." then he whispered the next words, as if somebody else was trying to overhear us: "If you get a hard-on..."

He didn't finish, but he didn't have to. We'd never had a sexy conversation, never made a move on each other. But Mikey was now squeezing himself again and again.

"Sure you're okay in there?" he asked, pointing to my crotch and then letting his fingertips move forward, giving me the impression that he would soon be trying to locate each separate piece of the tight jumble of organs that the pants were strangling.

Neither one of us said a word for a minute or so. He continued to manipulate his bulge. My dick continued to grow inside the flamboyant trousers, soon springing into a terribly uncomfortable erection, unable to become straight in those damn pants, but continuing to lengthen and stiffen. I looked at Mikey in my cords. He now displayed a horizontal ridge that was clearly identifiable, aiming from his crotch toward his left hip.

I stared at that bulge, Mikey's bulge inside my pants! Absolutely out of character, I reached toward him. "Want me to check you?" I asked, totally not believing what I was suggesting.

"That would be okay," Mike said in sort of a small, breathy voice. Then he added, "If you want to." He stepped closer to my hand, poking his groin toward me. I didn't quite touch the ridge, just fiddled around near his balls with my fingers.

The striped pants were squeezing the daylights out of me. I unbuttoned the waist and slid the zipper down to get a little room. Mikey, now hesitantly feeling of my  stiffie, said "Maybe you better take them off. We don't want to get anything on them."

Now Mikey had the cords down, his ridge totally obvious in my boxers. We were both feeling of each other's boners.

Mikey, squeezing my stiffie whispered sort of an apology for what was happening between us : "That's the trouble with those pants!"

We left the underwear in place, pretending we weren't doing what we knew we were doing. As the seconds ticked past we became bolder. It's hard to explain, but sort of like we had both been waiting for this very thing to happen. Suddenly our friendship had taken a new and horny turn thanks to the brilliant striped pants. Yet we were heistant and scared. we felt of each other and squeezed each other, slowly helping both the striped pants and the cords to drop lower and lower until they hit the floor. Still we stood there, continuing our exploration.

After a moment we stepped out of the trousers. The underpants descended and, without another word, we stared at each other's erections. Hesitantly at first, we began gentle back-and-forth motions.

"I didn't know if you did this," Mikey said as we felt of each other. I wanted to give him an answer but couldn't think of anything rational to say.

There was nobody else in the house, but Mikey put his mouth close to my ear and whispered: "I'm gonna check and see if the door's locked." we both turned toward his door. He tiptoed to it, erect eighth-grade penis leading the way like a compass needle pointing stiffly north.

In seconds he was back and without any further conversation we resumed steadily rubbing back and forth on each other's hard-ons. Mikey started shaking. "I think I'm gonna cum," he whispered. "Do you mind?"

I kept pumping him, hoping that that's what he wanted me to do. At the same time, his hand was rubbing back and forth on my boner.

He was standing with his mouth open and his eyes staring, pressing his hard dick into my strokes. He began breathing funny. "You're gonna make me cum! I'm cumming! You're making me...Oh! Oh! Oh!" He grabbed his wastebasket and we both climaxed colossal squirts into its contents.

We stood with our dripping dicks hanging over the trash can, flickering our eyes at each other and then quickly shifting our gaze somewhere else.

After we got our clothes back on, the flashy florescent pants were strangling Mikey's junk again. We were so silent following our twin ejaculations that it scared me. Neither one of us said a word, and we couldn't look each other in the eye. We didn't know what to do about what had just happened between us.

"Well," I said after a couple minutes of awkward silence, "I better go home."

"Yeah," Mikey answered, rearranging the pants that had cause all this action. "See you."

On the way home I worried about what we'd done. Worried about it all evening, all night. Worried about it on the way to school. The two of us together might have ruined a nice friendship.

But we were good. In History Mikey, wearing those bright pants again, paused near my seat "Want to come over after school?" he said, real soft.

"Sure," I nodded.

"Good."

He stuck his hand under his balls and shifted his package to accommodate the mega-tight florescent pants compressing his junk.

 

Thunder Cloud 

 

The Taste of CJ

Everybody always talks about the backstory leading up to their boyhood experiences but not as much about their feelings just before, during and after the act or even details of the act itself. I'm not a professional writer but I do have an experience that sticks with me. Here goes....


 I will never forget kneeling in front of CJ, a 12 year old, black mixed kid. I was looking right at his crotch, he was only shirtless at this time, his pants were still on. I took in the sight of his belly button and the muscles in his stomach that probably showed partly because of him being thin and partly from his obsession with sit ups. Looking down a few inches from there I knew what was behind that denim. I was excited, I had never seen another boy up close, let alone tasted one. I asked him if I could undo his pants and my hands trembled as I unbuttoned his jeans. I slid the zipper down and there was his underwear the final step before seeing everything. He let his pants fall, I didn't rush I touched him through the cloth, feeling the length of it. The bulge grew and I carefully pulled his underwear down. CJ's penis was erect, he was intact which was interesting because I was circumcised. Even at full erection his foreskin covered the whole thing.

 Male genitalia up-close has distinct characteristics even at that young age. The scrotum has wrinkles, the skin on the penis and scrotum have different colorations, he had a bit of hair. A few on his scrotum, one of them was extra long. On his pubic area the hair was full, but as some boys have a lot of hairs, his pubes only halfway covered the area. The genital area also has a distinct odor it's not bad especially if you are in that mood. It smells like sweat and piss but not a strong odor of piss. It's light but because I was so close it becomes detectable.

 Putting it in my mouth is also a big decision, the light odor reminded me that CJ urinates out of that thing, he has to wash his hands after touching it, and I was about to put it in my mouth. I rubbed CJ's butt, smooth round butt cheeks, he wouldn't let me explore any deeper. So I kept rubbing his cheeks. In the front though CJ slid his foreskin back, the head was kind of pinkish and shiny.

 I asked myself what the shine came from and whether it would be gross to have in my mouth. I still slipped my mouth over his penis. A penis is not tasteless, I can tell you that it is a unique flavor all it's own. It is very hard to describe but I'll say it is somewhat salty but much more complicated a flavor than just that. As I sucked him, the foreskin felt weird in my mouth, it must have been gliding back and forth. I didn't know how long he wanted me to go but he kept his hand over the back of my head.

 At some point CJ said it was going to come out and I was anticipating it. I was scared and excited. Semen too like the penis it comes out of has a distinct taste. It too can be described as salty but the flavor is so much more complicated than that. Also, I could feel it squirting onto my tongue. CJ wanted me to open my mouth and show him before swallowing. He was impressed by his load. I didn't want to see it that first time because I thought I would lose my nerve to swallow it. After I swallowed, CJ asked me how it tasted. "Salty" was all I could think of.

 After that I could not look at CJ exactly the same, I had seen, touched and tasted him. I knew him more intimately than anyone.

Anonymous

Peeing on a Wall

I lived in a mobile home park when I was younger. I was probably 7 when my friend and I decided that we wanted to pee outside. The kids that were slightly older than us did it all the time. A boy could be playing and then step to a wall or a bush, whip it out, piss and go back to playing.

We were scared of getting caught so we walked all around that mobile home park to find a place to pee and not get caught.

 We finally found a place, a wall behind the electrical box. We both peed, side by side. We were so proud of our wet spots on the wall and our bubbly piss puddles that slowly made twin rivers of pee that we high-fived each other.

Not much else to tell, just two goofy kids peeing on a wall.

Anonymous

The Wiener Report

  I kind of believe the story about the camper and the counselor could happen. But my experience was of a very weird counselor I had one time in a 12 and 13 year cabin.

  After dark most of us became horny. Some of the guys (okay, me too) would go from bed to bed and see about playing with other guys dicks. The counselor was  older than most of us, however I think he was just out of High School. He never said anything about of playing with guy's wieners. When we realized that he wasn't going to correct us we really got into it.


 Then the counselor saw me standing at an upper bunk nearby. He motioned me to come to him. He whispered questions like "Does Bobby have a big one?" and "Was it stiff or just squishy?" also "Did you wiggle it some?"

 Each time I played with a different boy, the counselor would motion me in the dark to come to his bed. He wanted a report on every dick I touched. Sometimes I would know he was jacking off while asking me about the dicks.

Yes, it was weird. But he never touched anybody inappropriately. Also I felt kind of special because of answering his questions and keeping it a secret that he was jerking in his sleeping bag.

Anonymous Scout

Evaluation of the "Roaming Locker Room Coach" Poll

A reader sent a comment about the recent poll which was essentially on "Coaches patrolling the Gym Locker room when we were in school".

He wrote -

 "I've been expecting an editorial wrap-up on the locker-room poll. Any thoughts? Surely there's something to be learned from all those votes. That's a pretty wide range, 14 who didn't care if the coach monitored the room when they were naked, versus 1 who apparently felt violated by a watchful coach."

 My feelings are this.

 The count of readers votes cast on this poll clearly totaled 34. During the week-long period the voting was open, we had 9,350 site visits by our readers. We can't actually assume that all readers noticed the Poll, since about 40% of our readers visit using a personal device such as a phone. I am going to exclude tablets, since my tablet allows and defaults to a full site view. I presume that might be the case with most other PC and Tablet based visitors. So lets just take 40% off the 9,350 count, which result to 5,610 readers who likely saw the poll.  Of those 5,610 we are going to credit 34 of them as the pool of our opinioned voters. This is a .006% voter turn-out. I feel this value is entirely too low to extrapolate any sensible tally for our readers opinions on the matter.

 Therefore all you will get now is my opinion. In my Junior High School days, our coach only managed the locker room during the first two weeks. He reminded kids to be sure to shower use soap, and before getting dressed to use deodorant, so we would not smell offensive when we go to our next classes. So it was more of a hygiene thing. I have no awareness today if he popped in much any other time during our showers or dressing.

 I honestly did peek some at the various guys around me or while in the showers, all for the sake of scientific study in human development of course.....But ANY WAY,  that brings me to my next point.

 I feel most teens are pretty well absorbed in themselves and their buddies. The various social aspects of teen-age life are developing, so pick something the boys would be doing aside from dressing and showering: chatting, joking, horseplay or even towel-slapping butts are some things on the agenda for just about every boy in the lockers. I paid no attention to my coach in the lockers, unless he would have walked right up to me. For the most part it was a rushed event, required of us to clean-up and get on to our next class.

 Our coach did have a window in his office that allowed his view into the lockers, but I don't ever remember obsessing if he was looking at our little pricks. So I feel the results of the poll relate very closely to my own experiences.

 Of our 20 respondents who were okay with a coach in the lockers, this accounts for close to 60%. We had 9 respondents who said their coach had a window, and honestly this question was neither approval of, or rejection of coach having the window. Just a factoid. We did have 5 people who said they were opposed to coach viewing the kids in the locker room. This may indeed be our most valued and correct opinion collected in this poll. They account for 14% of our voters who opposed coach in the lockers, which is a very low count. If we had 30 boys in the lockers, 4 of them would be shy for coach. The remaining 26 cared less.

Fortunately there were no reports of a Penn State type of scandal in the locker rooms by any of our readers, so lets hope everyone survived safe, happy and unmarred by locker rooms, showering, or their coach being present upon occasion.

 

Anonymous

Scout's Honor, It was All True

I was not sure if my story about the Scout who needed to" go" in the night, would even be published, let alone get any replies to it.

 I first want to say that I am not going to try to convince anyone to believe the story, I know it happened because I was there. It is perfectly fine to doubt it. But I have to address one thing. Masturbation is very personal, that is for sure, but during those years I spent working summers at the camp I can tell you that they will do it if they think nobody is aware of it. I don't know if other people knew what was going on but I knew because I listened for it. All the squeaks from beds or the low sound of woosh, woosh, woosh. It is a private thing but sometimes the privacy that someone thinks they have can be overestimated.

I worked at that camp from 18-25. Up to 12 new campers per cabin came in every two weeks so there were many different types of personalities represented.

I want to explain the reason why the boy in question may have asked me to take him to the restroom that night. It was a camp rule. Campers could not go alone. The restroom was not close to the cabin, it wasn't super far. However at night it was for safety reasons that us counselors escorted the boys. The first years I worked there with the younger kids they had to have a counselor escort them, the older kids could go with another camper. Then an incident happened and that rule changed and the older kids also had to go with a counselor and by the time I worked my last year the rule had changed again, to where the counselor had to go with TWO campers. Anytime someone needed the restroom, another unfortunate camper had to be woken up.

A camper could break the rules and go by themselves but at night the restroom and the dimly lit walk to it was as creepy as anything gets. I felt uneasy as a counselor going by myself at night so imagine a 12 year old. Once inside the restroom it was brightly lit but large and unsettling to look out into the relative darkness that was outside. Another thing was that the campers had all types of legends they passed on, a ghost who walks around at night, a boy who killed himself in the bathroom those legends on top of everything else made for a creepy trip to the restroom.

Anonymous Scout Counselor

The Stealth Shot

I can testify that there are some boys that will go ahead and "do it" like that scout who did it, despite somebody else being nearby and fully aware of what was going on.

 I don't know how old I was, probably around 15. We were on vacation (my mother and sister and me). Mom stopped at a highway rest area. When I went into the men's restroom a boy younger than me stood at one of the two urinals. The only thing I remember about him, he was wearing rubber flip-flops and had black hair. I went to the other urinal to piss. The other dude stood there as still as a marble statue, not moving a hair.

Then all of a sudden his shirttail began to jiggle. He was on my left and I could see his arm now jerking. I think he was holding his breath. After only a few seconds of jerking he raised himself up on tip-toes, leaned further into the urinal and released his breath like letting air out of a compressor. There was no question about it, that kid was punchin' his clown.

 I'd witnessed a total stranger compulsively masturbating and firing his load just inches away from me.

Anonymous

The Scout Finished-off

I was a camp counselor every summer between the ages of 18 and 25.

  The first two years I had the little kids cabin not much to report there but when I was assigned to the 12 and up cabins which was 12-14 year old campers, I found that if I listened carefully at night I could hear subtle and occasionally not so subtle sounds of campers having their own relaxing ways.

 One time I woke up very late at night because I had to pee and I laid there with an uncomfortably full bladder hearing the camper in the bed next to me just really going at it. I determined not to get up, because I didn't want to embarrass him and have him stop. This was my initial plan, but the advancing pain of my full bladder condition progressed to discomfort. I knew that I would explode if I delayed much longer. As quietly as possible I got up from my bed. As my feet hit the floor I heard the camper whisper to me,  asking if I could walk him to the bathroom. I did, and it was apparent to me that he went to the urinal and finished off.

I don't know if he wanted something to happen between us or just didn't care. But in keeping with some semblance of the unwritten male code, I didn't tell him to stop. I just asked him if he felt better.

 I was smart enough at 20 not to allow anything improper to happen between us or even to join in. Yet, for the rest of the time he was there in camp, if he woke me up in the night to "use the restroom" I knew what he was going to do.

And just as a post script to this. No we never acknowledged what was actually happening, the only thing that we did was nod heads or speak in vague terms like when I asked him if he felt better.

Anonymous