The first time he pulled me back against him and moved his big strong hands inside my unbuttoned shirt and held it against the center of my chest, I got hard.
The first time I touched and thrilled, held and breathed deeper, rubbed and exploded, I loved the beginning of a journey I knew was going to be fun, pleasureable and fulfilling.
The first time I danced shirtless with the group of friends during a sleepover, I didn't try to hide my erection and I saw their eyes realize my excitement.
The first time I masturbated with thoughts of those I truly desired, I knew who I was and loved the pleasure I gave myself.
The first time I felt hands go under the back of my t-shirt and slide around pausing to squeeze my shoulder muscles, I got harder then ever before.
The first time I wrestled wearing those tight singlets; knowing there was no way to hide my arousal, I let it happen. My teammates didn't call attention to it knowing they too would be in the same condition.
The first time I exploded with pleasure and then felt empty realizing there might be more then just the releasing of sperm, I began to grow up.
The first time I felt his hand rest on my thigh in the darkness of the movie theater and then move to cup my crotch, I knew that eventually I'd experience what I had hoped for all those times alone in my bedroom.
The first time I lay in the bed pretending to sleep while he hesitantly touched me, moved his hand under my jockeys and held my hardness, he knew my desire.
That first night I let him remove my clothing and examine me, my hand moved to his naked body to feel, stroke and beg for what I wanted to happen.
The first time my body exploded because of his passionate touch and lips, it was more then I had ever hoped for.
The first time I met a stranger in the dark, it was mysterious and I lost any and all inhibitions erased by the anonymity of the darkness and my true desire.
The first time I let him inside me, hearing him tell me to relax and breathe, I was grateful for his patience, appreciative of his instruction and thankful for his enlarged penis that only made me want more.
The first time I let the party atmosphere find me naked, hard, totally willing among the group of other partying males, it was an experience I wouldn't admit to wanting again but secretly desired.
The first time there were long talks, considerate touches and emotional kisses, it all changed again.
The first time we avoided physical satisfaction in favor of both physical and emotional love making I couldn't believe the fullness of the love.
The first time I lost him I was devastated and wished that part of growing older didn't exist.
The first time I met a man who remained in my heart, soul, body and bed, I was thankful I had grown up, was loving and loved.