Ned’s folks were divorced—which was really rare in the 70s. He lived with his Mom most of the time. She had an apartment a few miles from me. I would get driven over there and we would play Strat-O-Matic and watch the Red Sox for hours and hours by ourselves. Ned's Mom was quite the party girl so we had the place pretty much to ourselves. She'd come home long after we were asleep.
I was one of the last guys to 'develop' and Ned was maybe the second to last kid to develop. I remember he had this blonde hair on his arms which fascinated me. At the end of our nights we’d often wrestle before going to sleep.
In the nude.
Sometimes the wrestling got really intense. We really tried to pin each other. But with the intensity came arousal and with the arousal came hard-ons. We were so clueless. We knew they were hard-ons but we didn't REALLY know what they meant--if you get my drift.
Occasionally our 'guns' would go off in battle. I was reminded of this phase of my life recently when I realized Strat-O-Matic was the first of many addictions to come.
The truth of the matter is, I don't look back at this and question my sexuality. In the 30+ years that have followed, I’ve never been alone—or had the urge to be alone—with a naked man. Heck it's probably been 20 years since I’ve even seen another guy’s cock and that was in a gym sauna.
I think back to my times with Ned with much fondness. It actually brings a smile to my face. It was so innocent --yet so exciting. It was sex--yet it wasn't sex.
Will I ever have a bi experience? I have no idea. Are there men on certain websites I find sexy? Absolutely. But saying that doesn't make me gay. It’s simply the truth.
PS In late 2017 and early 2018, I finally touched my first cock (and did a little more). Four times--never more than an hour per visit-- with three guys. When Craigslist stopped the personal ads, I stopped too.