I don’t know when it started. Maybe it was something I was born with. Maybe, the race is evolving. In my case, by the time I was thirteen I knew two things about it for sure: First, I liked taking those steamy group showers when PE class was over because I got to be naked somewhere with other people – even if it was all other guys. Second, I realized I had to keep that fact a secret, because ‘everybody knew’ queers were less than human.

At the same time, I enjoyed as much as any of my friends when we got hold of some men’s magazine and ogled the naked women, our maturing dicks tenting our pants. The two seemingly opposing interests confused the hell out of me. Back then there was little public legal information on sexuality (for kids at least). So I had to figure it out for myself.

Back then, before the internet, I was able to do some research in the library (the only real source for information in those days). It taught me that sexuality was a pretty slippery subject. And one day, a light went on in my mind when I read the term ‘bisexuality’. In my case, though, actual sex lay somewhere in the future. At least anything but masturbation did. But it was a revelation to me that there were others in the world who enjoyed the idea of having sex with either gender.

The things I saw every day taught me a little about society’s double standards toward showing affection in public. While nobody really cared if two boys of the same gender might sometimes walk with their arms thrown across each other’s shoulders, as long as the boys who did it were under about ten. Two girls could do that at any age, even into adulthood. They could hug and even kiss, too.

If a boy much older than ten was seen showing physical affection toward another boy, he was given a derogatory name. They were called queer, faggot, or homo. They were shunned by members of their own gender and most of the female gender. In spite of my own feelings, I found myself accepting the distaste others displayed.

I had close male friends who I might have wanted to hug and maybe even kiss but I couldn’t let it show. It was that way until the summer I turned fifteen when I met Paul. We became best friends and did a lot of things together. But that’s as far as it went until one hot July afternoon.

We had ridden our bikes about a mile out of town to a spot on the river I liked to go to get away on my own. The river widened there and I went fishing there a lot. Both my parents worked and my older siblings had left home to begin their own lives. So in the summertime I was on my own five days a week from morning until about six in the afternoon.

Paul and I liked to get together, usually to read and reread comics or play cards. That day I took him to fish in my favorite spot at the river. As I said, it was hot. We worked up a sweat riding out there. Standing in the shade of the huge trees hanging over the water it felt cooler, but I still felt sweat rolling down my sides. So I took my tee shirt off. That was a little better, but there was too little breeze to help much. Paul had also gotten naked from the waist up. That much was not a big deal, of course, even for teenage boys and grown men.

The fishing was crappy, so we just reeled in our lures and sat on the bank. We both wore shorts and tennis shoes. We took off the shoes and our socks to feel the cool current lazily washing around our feet.

“How deep is it here, John, do you know?” Paul asked.

“I’m not sure. But I lost a lure and about twenty feet of line one day when I accidentally let it sink too much and it snagged on something.”

“Do you ever swim here?”

“No. I’ve waded some, but I’ve never worn my swim suit out to swim.”

While my swimming skills weren’t very good, even then, I’d learned enough to keep my head out of the water and swim using backstrokes and side strokes. But my ‘crawl’ was sadly lacking.

Looking around, Paul said, “Well, there’s nobody else around. Have you ever seen another person out here?”

“Nope. I’ve seen signs that others come here – beer cans and cigarette butts – but no people.”

“Well, then, we don’t need suits. We can skinny-dip,” he said with that grin he had. “We’ve showered together in gym class. So being naked together shouldn’t be a problem.”

It wasn’t, except being naked with another guy – out there alone and for longer than it took for a shower – I just knew I’d get stiff and my secret would be out. Still, I grinned back at him and we kept our eyes open as we quickly stripped off our shorts and underwear. It took about a half second for us both to get under the water so we were hidden again from any peeping eyes.

“Whoo! This feels great!” Paul’s head looked like it was floating in the ripples I must have looked the same to him.

“I know!” I replied. I forgot all about my worries. I just enjoyed the way my cock and butt felt being naked in the cool river water. But after a few minutes I realized my cock felt like it was stiffening. Still, I didn’t let it bother me right then.

We splashed each other and dove under the surface. Paul proved to be a great swimmer. He swam out to the middle and dived down. I liked the way his butt rolled as he rolled his head down ... When he came back up he announced the bottom was about ten feet down. “Oh, by the way, you aren’t the only one to lose your lure here, either. There’s tons of them down there. We should collect them.”

“Yeah. We could sell them.”

“But now I’m getting tired. I bet we’ll get dry fast if we lay on those rocks,” he suggested.

“O-Okay,” I said. I knew we’d have to get out sooner or later anyway. But I just splashed my way to the bank and climbed out. I had my back to Paul as I went toward the rocks. My cock was stiff and bobbed as I walked. On the way past, I grabbed my shirt. When I reached the rocks, I felt the warmth they’d absorbed from the sun. They were almost too hot to lie on. I glanced back at Paul. He had his hand wrapped around his cock. When he saw me looking, all he did was grin.

Once I got used to the heat of the rocks, I dropped my shirt and turned around. “Hah!” Paul crowed, dropping his hand, baring a cock that was just as stiff as mine and a little bigger.

“I was afraid my hard on would bother you,” I said, dropping my eyes.

“Me? Nope. I get hard when I swim naked. My sister teases me about it all the time.”

“Your sister? She’s seen you swimming naked?”

“Oh yeah. My whole family goes naked at home.”

“Wow! What’s that like?”

“It’s like ... well, I guess all I can say is it feels normal. We’ve always been nudists. We’re just not supposed to really talk about it.”