In the Fantasies and Introductions area, there's a thread about "the first time you saw a girl naked." Why not have the same discussion about boys?

Not quite totally naked, but in Jr High School. We had no showers and no one took their underwear off. However, one day there was a few of us seated on some bleachers. My position was lower down and one of the guys further up started talking and I turned around and looked up and right into his P.E. Trunks. Most of the boys wore boxers so my view was all the up to his genitals. I was transfixed and wanted to see more of it.

Aside from my younger brother, the first time I saw nude boys and needed to undress in front of other boys was in the 7th grade PE locker room. What a sight that was. The "big" boys were so proud to be strutting their wares and the smaller guys like myself on the verge of puberty were shy.

I'm not sure what my first time was. When I was young, homosexuality was inconceivable in popular culture, and was supposed to exist only among a few freakish "faggots," who were supposed to be easy to spot. Anyone suspected of these tendancies would have been subject to merciless hostility and ostracism. So, I had to be *very* careful not to look where I wasn't supposed. Look for one second too long, and it was curtains.

What I remember was a burning, furtive interest, fed in secret with whatever glimpse or brief contact I could steal without punishment. Statues and paintings in the museum. (Once, I stared too long at the ass of an ancient Greek statue in the Metropolitan Museum and drew threatening looks.) Pictures of tough muscular men in magazines or movies. Strong young men dressed in tight pants. Stories about the sexual exploits of others set off fevered fantasies about the men in the stories.

Then there was the boys' locker room in the 7th and 8th grades - no one took off their underpants, but there were so many bulging provocative packages, and young male muscle, and that sweaty smell; the boys even talked about one another's bodies with appreciation (not "faggoty" if it was done loudly in public) and made note of who had "a big one." At summer camp when I was 13, everyone in my "cabin" dressed together, and one big guy did a naked dance, waving his penis in front of everyone; another boy fucked a hole in his mattress while others stood watch. But for the most part, I swooned in private over boys I found beautiful, and tried to be around them as much as they'd let me. I fantasized about passionate interludes that never came close to happening because the other boy(s) would have been disgusted at the thought.

The romantic highlight of my youth came when I was 18. I fell deeply in love with a heterosexual stud (I've always been drawn to aggressive dominant men), and because he liked me a lot, he went with me (twice) to the roof of his apartment building, where he let me kiss him on the mouth several times. He was very uncomfortable, but let me do it. Even now, those kisses are bathed in a golden glow for me. This wasn't exactly a naked boy, but it had a bigger impact on me than locker room peeks. It wasn't until college that I had real physical contact with other men. This was the height of "sexual liberation," before AIDS, but that's a different thread.

I shared a room with a younger brother and went to public swimming pools a lot as a kid, so seeing other naked people was no big deal. But the first naked guy that I saw and liked was in 9th grade gym class. Cute guy with one of the most beautiful, proportional thingies I'd ever seen, saw it for a split second but it was burned into my mind forever. Every time I'd see him my mind would wander about 3 feet to the south. He had beautiful eyes and a beautiful smile too...and a cute girlfriend. I wonder what ever happened with him.

The first times that are memorable to me was in 7th grade gym class. While most of the time I don't remember much, I do remember a black guy, by the name of Michael, that even at that age was hung better than average.

Being raised in a conservative religous culture, I put it out of my mind.

Until a beautiful organ came through the hole in the wall, at a video arcade here in Texas. I've been messed up ever since!

As a straight old geezer, my take on this is very different. I grew up on a small farm at the edge of a small town where I knew how I was related to 500 or so “close” relatives. I had sleepovers with many cousins and second cousins and third cousins of both sexes from a very early age. “Boy-parts,” “girl-parts,” they were just the way people were.

It was only when I was in college and spent a year in Tokyo that I really noticed. I used to go to the neighborhood public bath three or four nights a week. I always sat at the back of the large communal tub with the old men, who’d sit there to gossip and reminisce about the “good ol’ days.” They took me under their wing and taught me a great deal about language and culture – probably more than I learned in my classes. I got invited to homes and bars because of the time I spent with them. It was the best possible introduction to life in one of the more traditional neighborhoods in the city.

All the kids in the neighborhood, both boys and girls, spent lots of time playing in the bath, especially on cold winter nights, watched over by parents and other adults of the neighborhood. They’d always have great fun there laughing and playing and running around together. Men and women were on different sides of the bath, but there were several large openings for the kids to run through from side to side and the single large tub was divided only by a board across it at water level. Before the American occupation the bath hadn’t been divided at all.

Three times that I can remember during that year, one of the boys, overnight, changed from carefree and running around nude with the other kids to tightly clutching his towel/washcloth over his genitals all the time he was in the bath. The old men would start joking loudly that he’d just discovered what his penis was for and that he’d probably masturbated for the first time the previous night. If someone were feeling mean, he’d make a loud comment directly to the poor boy, who’d blush bright red over his entire body. He wouldn’t drop his towel, though, and we’d take bets on how long it would be before he got over his embarrassment.

The adult men in the neighborhood tended to fold their towels and keep them on top of their heads when they weren’t using them, especially when they were sitting in the tub. Women were a little more modest and tended to hold their towels casually draped in front of their genitals, though not all of them bothered.

Otherwise, parts are parts. They come in different shapes and sizes, but it’s no big deal.

I grew up with two younger brothers, but I don't remember seeing them naked.

When we were kids, during the summer months my parents would take us to various beaches ("The Shore") on the Atlantic Ocean. That is where I had my first vivid, close-up views of male genitals. The various beach cities provided public changing rooms which we used during those visits when we weren't renting a home for a week.

I'm sure I must have seen my brothers (and father) naked then, but they made no impression on me. Instead, I was mesmerized by the bodies of the many handsome, tall young men who were changing close by. I, being no older than 8 on any of these trips, was fairly short. So I got very detailed looks at their fascinating 'boy parts' from a nearly perfect vantage point, often only inches from my eyes. I remember them toweling themselves, including their penises, dry and I enjoyed seeing the ease they felt with who they were.

I adored their bodies. I loved the way the young men joked among themselves, although I never felt I would be one of them.

When I was in junior high school (8th grade or so), we spent many summer evenings and weekends at a nearby lake. There was a gorgeous lifeguard who got the rapt attention of the girls. He had a beautifully developed chest that was covered in fine dark hair.

Late one day, I was alone in the men's rest room/changing area when the lifeguard walked in and proceeded to remove his swim suit and dry himself. I think he may have been my first love. He was beautiful and I remember wishing he would grab me up in his arms.

Although I was experiencing spontaneous erections by that time, I was not aroused in a physical way (not to any noticeable extent, anyway). I would have been too embarrassed to continue looking if I had been. I felt empty when he got dressed and left the building.

I wanted to be one of the girls who got his attention. This is good for me to write now. That is exactly how I felt, but I 'knew' it could never be.

I showered once in Phys. Ed. in 9th grade. I wore my underwear and tried very hard not to ogle the shower full of muscular, toned, athletic farmboys -- who were all naked. Oh, what a buffet of self-loathing that experience was.

The 1st non-family member I saw nude would have to be Daniel the next-door neighbor kid. I was 5-years-old and he was a lot older than me (early teens?). He used to let me watch cartoons at his house (Thundercats, yay! ). Probably the 1st non-family member I had sexual relations with, also. :O

About the same time I saw a girl naked, which is when I was pre-school. That is too long ago to remember exact numbers.

Speed