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CONFESSIONS OF A POOLBOY(True Confession #1)

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 12 Jan 2000 2 comments
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By Todd421 I just turned 25, and I feel like I should share some of my experiences, now that I'm a quarter of a century old! My earliest recollection of an interest in guys took place when I was around 11 years old, while I was in the 6th grade. I was at the country club in the San Fernando Valley that my parents belonged to - they were out playing golf, and I was swimming and laying out by the pool. I liked having a tan, even at that early age, and this was a great place to get a tan (especially since my family didn't have a pool in our own backyard). The club facilities weren't all that fancy - at least, around the pool area. The builders had obviously spent the big bucks on the golf course and the greens, and on the golf-locker facilities and restaurant areas. The pool was a regular Olympic size, with tables and chairs around it, and a few lounge chairs (where I was laying all day). Just a few feet from the pool were some restrooms and mini-changing areas for people who didn't want to walk all across the club area to get to the locker rooms. I had to pee, but I wasn't really keen on using the nearby facility. I thought I'd be able to hold out until my parents picked me up and drove me back home. But the wait became unbearable, and I soon ventured toward the men's restroom adjacent to the pool. BUT THEN the worst thing happened - I started to pee in my bathing suit while I was walking across the pool's deck area, and a dark, wet spot was forming on my pale blue Speedo swimsuit. How humiliating! I hoped that no one had seen me, and I ducked inside the restroom for cover (and of course, to pee). Thank God no one was inside the rest area while I relieved myself into the one toilet in the room. Once I'd finished peeing, I realized people would see my "wet spot" if I ventured back out immediately to my pool chair. And I didn't particularly want to walk past the other club members holding my hands in front of my crotch. So, I took off my bathing suit and started rinsing it out in the sink in the restroom, so that the "wet" color would now be uniform. Right around this time, a man who had been laying out by the pool came into the bathroom area, and I got all mixed up with what I was trying to do. Standing at the sink naked, I thought I looked pretty silly. So I quickly jumped into the shower area of the restroom and turned one of the shower faucets on. (I prayed the man wouldn't see my bathing suit scrunched into the sink.) The man hadn't come in to pee. He had come in to take a shower. He quickly took off his bathing suit, leaving it on the wooden bench near the few lockers in the room. Then he walked toward me, into the shower area, and turned on the shower faucet next to mine. (There were only three faucets in this small area, which was probably around 8 feet x 12 feet altogether.) AND THIS is the moment I attribute to my recognition of my homosexuality, even at this early age. I COULDN'T TAKE MY EYES OFF OF HIM! He was about 30, with dark black hair, a handsome face, and a slightly muscular build. I caught myself staring at his well-defined chest, wondering "if and when" my own chest hair would start to bristle out like his. He turned his back toward me, and I reveled in his smooth shoulders, back, and butt (a tantalizing view today, I realize) as he grabbed some soap from the nearby dish and started rubbing some suds across his body. Suddenly, he turned around and faced me, asking, "You need the soap?" I said, "Yeah," and he handed the bar of soap over to me. We were only a couple of feet apart, and I started to rub the soap onto my skin. I didn't turn away from him, because by now I had started to notice his cock and the way it seemed to thicken. While I rubbed soap all over my smooth, hairless skin, I stared at that dick and those large, hanging balls. I understand now what he meant when he saw how transfixed I was with his body and started talking to me. He asked if my parents were out by the pool, and I told him the truth - that they were still out on the golf course. He said, "You don't have any hair growing yet, but you will pretty soon, just like mine. Pretty soon, you'll grow some right around here." He reached over and ran his finger around my pelvic area to show me where the hair would sprout. He started rinsing himself off under the shower, but I couldn't take my eyes off of his cock. He saw this and said, "And you'll get as big as I am, too." At this point, I'm sure my "underaged" dick was getting hard, because he asked, "Do you like looking at cocks?" I had no idea how to answer. He moved a little closer to me. He looked down at himself and asked, "Do you want to touch it?" I said I did, and I reached over and wrapped my hand around the shaft of his dick. It was soft and smooth, but hard and vibrating all at the same time. He said he had to leave (obviously he was having some misgivings about what he was doing with me), but he asked me if I liked touching his body. I told him I did, even though I didn't really know what I was feeling, especially during this brief moment. Then he asked me when I'd be back to the pool on another day, and I told him I didn't know - it depended on my parents. He seemed to understand, and he stepped away from the shower area, grabbed a towel, and started drying himself off. I got out of the shower at the same time, making a FATEFUL statement - "I wanna do this more." He sat down on the bench near him, and he asked me to come closer. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me up against his chest. His arms and hands moved up and down my back and over my wet and hairless butt. Standing, I was as tall as he was while sitting - my face was even with his. He pushed/pulled me away from him and asked if I'd be at the club the following weekend. I told him I probably would, and that I'd like to meet him in this restroom again. He said, "You'll have to prove it," and he told me to KISS his cock. I lifted it up (it was sorta semi-hard anyway), and I bent down and kissed the upper part of his shaft, just under the knob of his cock. He told me that this would be our pact - my mouth and his cock - and that no one should ever know about what we were to each other. He grabbed up his bathing suit, put it on, and he left. I put on my bathing suit, though it was pretty wrinkled from sitting in the sink. All week long afterwards I thought about and dreamed about MY MAN (I didn't even know his name) - about his and my dicks, how close I felt to him, and whether I should tell my parents about him. (I didn't.) I learned a lot more during our second encounter and in the months to follow. I'll tell you more in another installment, including how I came to be a poolboy, and why I feel the need to confess to you.