So I guess I’ll type up the story of what might be the gayest thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s sort of embarrassing for me to write about, and I’ve never told about this to anybody. But I told myself I would hold nothing back on this blog, so here it is.
When I was like 13 or 14, I was on vacation with my family at a beach in North Carolina. There were a lot of surfers on this beach. They were everywhere. So needless to say, it was a pretty entertaining weekend for me. When I got tired of listening to my mom talk about real estate values or Bible values or how there are no values in the Modern Media, I could just block her out and rest my eyes on the blue gray ocean, and watch the surfer guys get up on it, fall down, pick up their boards, swim back out, over and over. Some of them wore those tight wet suits, some of them just shorts. I liked watching all of them.
I wanted to do more than watch them, I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to play with them. Out there in the waves, surfing, and maybe in other ways. I was just figuring out back then that I was gay.
At the back of the beach, near the entrance, there was a little building that had changing rooms and bathrooms. On the second day of our vacation, I was building a sand castle with my brother when I saw one of the surfer guys I’d had my eye on in the morning heading toward the changing room. I kept working on the sand castle while watching him out of the corner of my eye. When I saw he went into the changing room, I waited about ten seconds (you know, not to be too obvious), then told my brother to guard the castle, I’d be right back.
The changing room was dark and humid. The men’s side had a few toilet stalls, a couple urinals, and a shower room at the back. It was a gang shower, there weren’t any cubicles. The surfer guy was in the shower, shampooing his hair, still wearing his board shorts. I went automatically to one of the urinals. I didn’t really need to piss, but I had a good view from there. I could watch him from the corner of my eye. He looked just as good up close. He wore yellow shorts, and he had a muscular, tanned upper body. His hair reached down to his shoulders, and it was blond and curly.
I finished pissing quickly, I could only manage a trickle. First of all I didn’t really have to pee, second of all I was getting hard. So I tucked in and then did something kind of bold, for me anyway. Without thinking about it much, I got under another one of the shower heads and started rinsing off too. I didn’t have any shampoo, or any real reason to be in the shower, so I was just standing under the water, pretending to be getting clean. Meanwhile I was trying to check out the guy, but I could never bring my eyes up to look at him directly.
Another guy came in to use the urinal, then left. I’m not sure how long I’d been in there, but it felt like a really long time. Anyway, I knew it was TOO long. But I stayed. The surfer guy had finished washing his hair a while ago.
Since I’d already rinsed off every part of my body by this point, hair, arms, legs, feet, I was running out of reasons to stay in the shower. So I undid my board shorts just enough to let water in, and rinsed off the parts underneath. And I let them slip down some too, so my pubes and the top of my dick were showing. And I know this might sound weird, but I wanted him to see.
He just kept rinsing off, and still I didn’t look at him and I don’t think he looked at me. I turned around toward the wall pretending to wash off my front side better, and when I did I let the shorts slip down a little more in the back. So like half my ass was showing.
When I turned around again, I saw that the surfer guy was completely naked. He was holding his yellow shorts in his hand. But not only that. With his other hand he was stroking his cock, which was hard, and now I knew he was definitely looking at me.
I’d been pretty hard for a while too, and the only thing that was keeping it from sticking straight up in the air was the fact that the head was still trapped underneath the waist band, making it point straight downward. But I’m pretty sure it was obvious that I was hard by this point.
Anyway, when I saw him stroking himself I freaked out. I started to pull my shorts back up, and at just about the same time, another guy came into the changing rooms and went into one of the stalls. But by that point I was already heading straight for the door without even looking back at the surfer guy. I made sure everything was adjusted right and then stepped back out into the sun. I felt ashamed and guilty. Not so horny anymore.
I ran across the sand and when I got back to my brother he asked me what took me so long, and I told him I had to pee. I was distracted though, I wanted to see the surfer leave the changing room.
“Why didn’t you just go in the ocean?”
Just then I saw the surfer guy leave the changing room, he walked away quickly, with a towel around his waist, and then he was gone.
“Go in the ocean? Ew! That’s gross and dirty.”
He shrugged and said “Fish do it…”
I didn’t say anything, and it was hard for me to talk to my family for a while after, that afternoon. I felt dirty. I couldn’t stop thinking about the surfer. And later, after a while, I started to think about what would’ve happened if I’d stayed there. If we’d gone together into one of the toilet stalls. If I had touched him, and he’d touched me. I got so horny thinking about it, but the thought of it still scared me.
We stayed two more days on the beach, and both days, when I watched the surfers, I looked for that one. But I didn’t see him again.