This is a true story of how I learned about a new facet of my sexuality.
It was almost the end of my senior year of high school. This was the mid-1980s, and shortly after my eighteenth birthday. I lived in a suburb of Tulsa, Oklahoma. I thought I was straight as an arrow, and, like most guys that age, blew a load in my hand several times a week (often more than once a day). I had enthusiastically played a few times with girls, but never went "all the way".
Ahhh, good times.
But I digress.
I got in an argument one night with my mom and stepdad. I have long since forgotten the subject of the argument, but I remember feeling extremely pissed. Pissed enough that I did NOT want to be in that house for a while. I left, but I had no idea where I would go. I drove to one friend's house, but they weren't home. Another friend's prents weren't keen on me staying over a day or two, especially in the middle of the week. Then I went to Randy's house.
I knew Randy because we were both involved in theater (he did stagecraft while I pretended to know how to act), and we often hung out together with other drama students in the school's designated student smoking area, affectionately dubbed "The Smoke Hole". Randy had graduated the previous year, but was still living at home and attending a local community college. He still hung around with his friends from the theater, so I saw him at parties and even some mornings before classes (his college classes were nearby, so he dropped by occasionally to have a smoke before school with his old friends - hurray for an open campus!).
I hoped I would catch Randy at home. It was getting past ten on a week night and my options were very limited. I knew Randy had a hot girlfriend and the pair were frequently out on dates until well after midnight. If he wasn't home, the back seat of my car would have to do for the night. That would have sucked.
I rang the doorbell; thankfully, Randy answered it. He was happy to see me and invited me in. We went upstairs to a loft to hang out and watch MTV. I told him what was going on with my parents, and he told me I could stay as long as I needed to.
After a bit, it was time to crash. Randy told me I could sleep in the room next to the loft, so I went in the room, Randy following behind me. It was a medium-sized room with a bed, a desk, bookshelves, and so on.
I asked where the bathroom was. Randy showed me, then said he was going to start getting ready for bed while I was in the bathroom. I finished up, then returned to the bedroom. I was initially a little surprised to see Randy in the bed and under the covers.
That's when I figured out that this was Randy's bedroom. I thought nothing of it, though; who was I to expect my own private room to sleep in? I was just happy to have a place to crash.
I took off my shoes, grabbed a pillow off the bed, and started to lay down on the floor, still fully dressed. I mean, I didn't want Randy to think I was queer or something, so I wasn't planning to strip in front of him.
Glancing my direction, Randy asked what I was doing.
"Getting ready to sleep; what's it look like?", I replied. "Did you want me to crash on that couch in the loft?"
Randy responded, "You're not sleeping on the floor; there's plenty of room in this bed. And it is much more comfortable than the floor or even the loft couch. Anyway, you're too tall for the couch."
Randy was right about the couch: at 6'4", I was about a foot taller than the couch was long. I would have had to sleep in a very uncomfortable position if I took that option.
I asked him, "Where will you sleep?"
Randy grinned. "In the bed, dummy! This is a queen size bed. There is a lot of room for you to sleep on one side and me on the other."
Under the circumstances, I nervously agreed with Randy; the bed was indeed my best option.
I had already kicked off my shoes, so I sat on the edge of the bed and took off my socks (I can't sleep under the covers if I am wearing socks). I stood up, pulled the sheets and comforter back, and started to climb into the bed.
Randy laughed. Teasingly, he asked, "Do you always go to bed fully dressed?"
I sheepishly responded in the negative.
"Well, you shouldn't do it here, either", he said.
That made me a little uncomfortable. I was shy and hated my body - at 6'4" and 140#, I felt I was far too thin. But, he had a point - who the heck sleeps in a bed while fully clothed? Anyway, it was his house, so I stripped off my clothes and climbed into the bed wearing only my briefs.
We talked for a few minutes, just relaxing before we slept. I lay on my back one side of the bed; Randy was about a foot away on his side. I rolled on my side facing away from him and started to drift off, eyes closed, thoughts dissipating.
That's when I felt it - something momentarily touching the top of my briefs in an oh-so-gentle way. The feeling lasted about a second. For a moment, I thought I was imagining things.
Then I felt it again, just slightly firmer this time: a finger gently resting on my side at the top of my briefs. This time, the finger stayed still.
I rolled over onto my back, still pretending to be asleep, and felt Randy lift his finger off my side. I naively hoped that if I slept on my back, Randy would have to stop whatever he was doing so that I could sleep. Laying on my back, however, inadvertently gave him much easier access to his prize: me!
I didn't feel anything for a few minutes, so I began drifting off again. Then I felt the finger briefly touch my side once more.
I began wondering what Randy was up to.
When I didn't react, the finger returned to my briefs and began softly tracing paths across my stomach and along the top of my briefs. His finger's touch put butterflies in my stomach! It was electric!
I could feel myself starting to stiffen. I was a horny teenager and, while I had fooled around with a few girls, I was still a virgin. But while I would have expected to feel revulsion at another man coming on to me sexually, my cock (surprisingly) disagreed. Strongly.
