I’m not sure how I ended up here. No, actually, I do.
I recently had an experience that I am having some difficulty processing involving a good friend of mine and some thing that I probably shouldn’t have seen. The thing is, I can’t seem to get out of my head.
Ever since sophomore year in high school (I am a freshmen in college now) I have had a secret crush on my friend Conor. He knows I’m bi and probably knows how I feel about him. We are an odd match as I am more of an emo-dork and he is a full fledged athlete, star of our school’s wrestling team, tons of girlfriends (though none that lasted). We ended up paired together for a humanities project a few years ago and have been really close ever since.
So of course I am into him. I don’t show it, but physically, no one is hotter to me. Dark, almost black curly hair and bright green eyes. He’s like a gregarious greek God, with seemingly no idea how beautiful he is. I had to stop going to his wrestling meets because I was having trouble suppressing my woodie. The one and only time that we were physically close was when we passed out drunk at a party together and I woke up with him cuddling me like I was his teddy bear.
Last summer, knowing his parents were away I dropped by his house out of boredom. I knew the back sliding glass doors would be unlocked, so I went around the house and was just about to let myself in when I saw him through the glass. He was standing in his living room with his back turned to me. My first thought was “why is he wearing his wrestling singlet?” There was something about his wide legged stance that stopped me in my tracks because it seemed sexual, like maybe he was masturbating or something. Then I saw what was really going on. I have been over this again and again in my mind and I know what I was looking at. He had gone to the bathroom in his singlet. Number two. A big one. And he was just kind of standing there, rubbing himself through the shiny red material. I was just frozen. I mean, I know I should have run away but I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I probably only stood there for a minute or two, long enough to see him squat down low then stand back up erect, and kind of gently push on the obvious mound right under his butt, cupping it with his hand. Knees apart.
His laptop was open on the table in front of him. What was on it I couldn’t tell, it was definitely holding his attention.
Realizing that what I was seeing was obviously very private I just turned around and quietly walked off of the porch and left. I have been obsessing about it ever since.
I would never have thought of something like that as sexual, and I don’t know if it was because of my attraction to him or what, but now I am just really horny over this stuff. I even tried it myself for the first time. I recreated the whole thing, even got myself a wrestling singlet – only mine is green and doesn’t look nearly as good. It felt weird. Good weird, and bad too kind of. My dorm stank all day and I got a funny look from my room mate when he came back. Don’t even ask me about the communal showers. But I did cum in such a massive quantity that I know I’m going to do it again.
So because of this experience I’ve thought a lot about Conor and our past and only one other strange occurrence comes to mind that may be relevant.
We had been friends for a couple of years. He had taught me how to fish. I wasn’t a natural at it but it meant spending time with Conor, so I obliged him whenever he wanted to go. On a spring afternoon I met him at our favorite spot about a mile from our school. About an hour in with nothing biting Conor pointed to a rock fifty yards away and said he was going to try that spot and took off through the trees. I had to talk myself out of being hurt by his absence. He was still in sight, so I cast my line and waited, again and again. To my astonishment I got a bite and slowly reeled in a little bass. Far too small to keep. I quickly realized I had no capacity to actually remove the fish from the hook so I took off in Conor’s direction.
I totally must have startled him because he jumped when I asked for help. He put his rod down and with one quick movement the fish was off the hook. Conor tossed it in the water, reeled in his line and mumbled about being late for something and started off in the direction we had come. So I followed him not sure what to say. I remember smelling something bad. Like a poop smell. I asked Conor what reeked, he didn’t reply, and actually walked faster ahead of me. He yelled back that he’d see me tomorrow and literally ran through the woods back to his house.
About a month later on a lonely walk to our lake I came across a pair of light blue boxer briefs that looked liked they’d been buried and dug up by something. I grabbed a stick which I used to pick them up and immediately threw them as far away as I could. Someone had clearly had an accident in them. By the placement of the stain I had no doubt whatsoever.
I’d almost forgotten about this whole experience until recently, having obsessed about what I’d seen through his window. I’m not positive and maybe it’s some kind of wishful thinking but I’m pretty sure those underwear were Conor’s.
So even though Conor and I are at different schools now we are still close. I have never said anything to him about what I saw, and maybe I never will, but there is a part of me that is tempted to just shit my pants when we hang out in Arizona next month and just see how he reacts. Even writing that makes my heart pound, because I know that’s just what I’m going to do. What do you guys think? Should I do it? If so where should I do it? I think if I’m drinking I would have the guts to actually follow through with it.
So wish me luck. Thanks for listening. I’m so glad to be able to finally share what I’ve been going through lately. And to have adopted a community through my best friend.
I’m not sure how I ended up here. No, actually, I do.