Scout Grope

One long weekend in South Florida my Boy Scout troop took boats out to an island in Biscayne Bay for a campout. It was a small island, but lots of sandy beaches and woods in the middle. We pitched our tents in a wide clear space. I was the senior Patrol Leader, so I got the larger Baker's tent, a walled tent, and Alan, the Scoutmaster's son, was my tent mate. I was 14, he 13.

One night Lenny, another 14-year-old in the troop, came to our tent. The Scoutmaster and other troop dad were asleep in anther Baker tent, snoring loudly, which was Lenny's signal to come to our tent. It was a typically hot, humid night in Miami and we three were in our underwear, white cotton jockey briefs, and Alan and I had been lying on top of our sleeping bags, chatting by the light or our flashlights, when Lenny came to our tent door and whispered permission to enter.

"Guys," said Lenny, clearly excited, "look what I have," and he had in his hand one of those decks of playing cards with topless women (this was the late 1950s, after all). "Let's play strip poker," said Lenny. So we three sat cross-legged in a small circle and played a few hands of poker, but we soon admitted we wanted to see all the cards so we abandoned the game and just began passing the cards around the circle, occasionally stopping to point out an especially sexy card. The women were mainly seated, with large breasts showing but not the pubic area. We sometimes would pause at a card when we thought we could see just a bit of pubic hair behind a thigh.

I should add here that I had no sexual experiences other than solo masturbation up to that night. My teen sex life consisted of fucking my pillow and mattress, pretending the pillow was one of the cute girls at my junior high. I made that pillow scream in pleasure many nights, though maybe I was the one making the sounds. Those playing cards were the stuff of my imagination.

While we were passing around the cards, Lenny told us that he had actually fucked a girl on the golf course near his house. He said they got naked and he put his cock into the girl and they "bounced around" for a short time until he had his orgasm. Lenny assured us he wore a condom. (I should note here that I had seen Lenny's penis in the Scout Camp showers and it was thick and hung low at 14.) Sex on the golf course at night. Brilliant! And "bouncing around" with your penis in a girl. Again, brilliant.

Lenny finally gathered the cards and said goodnight and left our tent, headed for his. Alan and I turned off our flashlights, laid back down on our sleeping bags, wearing only our underwear, and images of the naked women we had just seen doubtless lingered in our minds. After a few minutes Alan said, "I still have a hard-on from those cards." I admitted, "So do I."  I scooted over beside Alan and reached over to touch the hard cock in his underwear. He reached over to touch my hard cock in those tighty whities. We stroked the cocks briefly, and then I said, "Let's get naked." And we did. I was amazed that Alan's cock was longer and thinner than mine; he was amazed that mine was shorter and thicker. This was my first touch of another cock.

Now Alan and I were stroking each other's cocks, both as hard as a teenage boy's gets, when I rolled over on top of him and we began grinding our genitals between our bodies. I buried my face in his neck as we frotted and grinded, and I whispered in his ear, "I wish you were a girl." "So do I," whispered Alan.

I then put my hard cock down under his balls and between his tightly closed thighs, humping him in that position. Much later in life, I discovered that the move I made actually has a name in the gay community-- the Princeton Rub-- a name, no doubt, originating at Princeton when it was an all-male school. I humped Alan for a few minutes but then I rolled off, still hard. I was afraid to cum, afraid of the mess. He had not cum either. So we put our underwear back on, said goodnight, and went to sleep.

That was a one-time experience. I wish I had thought to suck him. It was 1959 and the pervasive homophobia at the time probably was why I did not. We never talked about that night, but it is seared in my memory.