My True Anecdotes: Part 1 conclusion
Posted: Sun Dec 28, 2025 8:38 am
I do not have permission to edit my own posts or to reply to any posts. I presume because I am in a probationary user group as a new registrant. I have been reading these fine forums for a couple years and finally felt it my duty to share what I know. But for now I must post updates as a new topic. One note: While I aim to keep the names real, places might or might not. I have a lot to say and don't intend to dox myself.
Teenfan suggested we must inevitably have asked Johnny why he did the streak. I never asked. I'm not aware of Sherry or Jennifer asking. Johnny was a clueless kid. I assumed he mistook my story of the Streak-for-Money Scammer as a legitimate opportunity and streaked expecting a reward. Could he really have been that dumb? I do not know. We were just young kids and did summon speculation that he SHOULD have known better. We were not analyzing. Maybe Johnny was a clever exhibitionist who took an opportunity to show off by playing dumb. I'll never know because sadly we did not remain friends much longer. Otherwise I can only imagine what fun we could have had together, exposing him to girls. I could have been in pervert heaven perhaps...
Instead my mom got serious with her boyfriend soon after and we three moved in together in the next town over, and I never saw these three friends again after that.
SWIMMING UNIT
A couple years later in my new grade school we engaged in the "swimming unit" of the health curriculum and once a week for a couple months Mrs. Willard led the whole class on a walk together to the neighborhood public pool for swimming lessons. After one of the weekly swims I was in the boys change room in rapt conversation with my two new best friends who were sitting side by side on a bench in the process or redressing while I, doing most of the talking, was standing before them wearing only a towel and no sense of urgency. A critical error on my part. Second critical error: when I felt the towel begin to slip, I made a totally illogical, split-second decision, succumbing to that youthful "experimentation" instinct. I was not an exhibitionist nor was I ashamed of my body exactly; I was an athletic kid, but a private one. Nevertheless I opted to let the towel fall just to see what would happen. I was probably hoping for a laugh from my buddies. Instead they STARED PAST me toward the lobby entrance to the change room as my towel hit the floor leaving me entirely naked head to toe. I immediately heard a voice behind me say "Oh Rickie! Bad timing!" It was a female voice. It was Mrs. Willard. "Hurry up boys! The girls are all done! You have two minutes to be out here or I'm coming in again to drag you out!" She said something of that nature. I was stunned. Frozen. Baffled. My friends and other boys then began laughing at me.
"Mrs. Willard saw you naked!" said my buddy Aidan. "She stared right at your bum!" I cleared my head, grabbed the towel and spun around to find that she was gone.
Walking back to school with the class I was in a complete daze. The universe was not a place where teachers got to see their students naked. This was not possible! How is it even LEGAL for a woman to enter the boys' change room? I assumed that life could not possibly go on with me knowing my teacher saw me naked. However: surprisingly it did. I am still alive and my perspective has gradually softened. I now hope she enjoyed it!
GOOD NIGHT KISSES
Stewart and Steven Ellington were respectively one grade above and one grade below me and lived at the opposite end of a short street. Steven and I liked the same music, same sports and we loved finding reasons to get naked together or to compare penises. Their parents, Edna and... I forget their dad's name, but they were popular with me and other friends. They were always letting their boys have friends over and letting us swim in their pool and when they took their boys to the movies or bowling they were always happy to take a couple of the boys' pals along. I spent a lot of time over there and a lot of time swimming and camping out in tents or just in Steve's bedroom. When it was just the two of us we shared his narrow bed. In hindsight he was probably gay or bi and I was bi but at the time could not label it "bi," just "confused." The highlights of this friendship shall be expanded on in part two; the high school years but here is an interesting phenomenon which began in grade school.
Their parents, Edna especially, were overtly loving with their boys; hugging, kissing, embracing. They were very outward people. There was a rich bedtime tradition in their household. The boys would change into pajamas, brush their teeth, prepare for bed, then go downstairs in their jammies for kisses goodnight; a habit their dad fell out of but not sweet Edna. When I slept over, not often at first, I only wore pajama bottoms, no top, and the boys insisted I must partake in this tradition; that anyone sleeping over always did. So I did as I was told and bare-chested, received a hug from their mom and traded kisses on the cheek. The assumption was that Edna saw it as her job to fill in a vital role while my own mom was absent. Not too big a deal. But when us boys outgrew the pajama days and slept in underwear instead, I was shocked to discover the tradition stood. I started going downstairs with fresh breath and almost naked to be embraced and kissed by their mom. It was very weird and awkward the first time and then I pretty much got used to it.
As for the pool, I was told the family skinny dipped after dark on occasion, and if we boys were swimming after dark we were allowed to go naked but had to notify their mom or dad. Steve ALWAYS wanted to skinny dip after dark and would notify his mom and then we would wrestle in the water and play other games that involved a lot of contact. His mom did check on us occasionally during these trysts but I never felt like she was trying to get a glimpse of me necessarily. It seemed too dark anyway. We turned no outdoor lights on, on these occasions. But more on the Ellingtons in the next part!
AN APPENDIX
When I was thirteen I got a pain in my lower right abdomen. Mom insisted it was constipation and had me spend long periods on the toilet while unbeknownst to her, my appendix was plotting to explode. Eventually she and step-dad changed views and off we went to hospital. I was triaged as critical as a long-ignored appendix victim, guided to strip entirely and put in a hospital gown. I then lay on an exam table until a doctor walked in and introduced herself to me and the folks and listened to our story. She said indeed it sounded like the appendix was to blame and I would probably be operated on and soon. But... testicular "twisting" was a rarer but possible cause and was "very dangerous" if ignored, like I would "lose" the testicle. So she HAD to carefully examine for that. And just like that she thrust up the gown and presented to herself and to my parents my brand new enlarged and be-fuzzed boy gear. I should have immediately died of shame and gone to pervert boy heaven but instead I was so scared by talk of ball-amputation and burst appendix, and in enough pain, that my fear and my dependency on the doctor to save my nuts and/or life, outweighed any humiliation. My folks were noticeably uncomfortable though, perhaps because they were not entirely sure if this story made sense or if they were instead witnessing the molestation of their son while this lady methodically and thoughtfully handled my adolescent balls. And she was definitely NOT wearing gloves.
Appendix indeed. I went into surgery and re-emerged sans appendix and was admitted for an entire week. Yes surgery was more primitive back then. One interesting note. At thirteen I had never heard of suppositories. Then one fine day shortly after surgery a nurse appeared with a mysterious agenda. I was wearing pajama bottoms; that's all. She told me something I did not understand and had me roll onto my side. She pulled my pajama bottoms half way to my knees, spread my cheeks, rubbed my butthole with something cool and slippery, then gently slid a gloved finger right up my ass while I wondered why I was being raped. She left a goopy suppository up my ass and slipped away, never to be seen again. I found out later that this was done to help me poop. Trouble is, I was not having any trouble pooping that I was aware of. Oh well.
CAMP TAHOE
Our grade eight contingent overwhelmingly voted on the five-day campground "senior" field trip option over the weekend at Virginia City option. Five days swimming, canoeing, orienteering, hiking and night-hiking. Seven boys including myself formed a cabin group, one-shy of the eight-bunk objective.
Our cabin was at the border of the gender divide. Four girls cabins were strung out to one side of us; three more boy cabins to the other side. On the second day of the trip our cabin got raided by girls. Our shit was all over the place and all of my underwear had been hung by the rafters with care. We found out who did it and that they did so with permission of the female teacher who we thought was a lesbian because she coached all the girl's sports teams. What flawless analysts we'd become.
That night the entire population of one boy cabin repeatedly snuck outside after dark (and curfew) and was repeatedly caught by teacher/parent-chaperone patrols and finally: punished. I don't know if they'd been sneaking out in just their underwear but they were finally made to sit together on a felled-log bench behind our cabin, all in strictly undies and nothing else, to presumably be dined on by mosquitos. The girls next door were evidently enjoying the spectacle because we, who were also watching out our windows, could plainly see all the flashlight beams coming from theirs. The bad boys meanwhile refused to display their shame and instead professed bravado by belting out rude songs while slapping at themselves. Their favorite tune was clearly "There's a skeeter on my peter, whack it off! There's a SKEETER ON MY PETER WHACK IT OFF!!" which frankly made the whole thing a little sexier.
The next day we found out the raid culprits and raided their cabin, and without permission, but we took care not to touch their underthings, sensing that double standards might exist. That night three of us; me, Steve Cribbs and Edward Janney, announced our frustration with the stand up sponge bathing routine in our showerless cabin and set our sights on the legendary shower cabin; a subject of a few lurid tales. It was night hike night for the girls so the shower cabin was designated for boys, who were on free time. Steve got naked, wrapped himself in a towel and grabbed shampoo. I did exactly likewise. Edward wore a bathing suit under his towel, insisting there were multiple girl platoons out there and the mission was not risk-free. We laughed at him and we stepped barefoot into the night.
More than half way to the shower cabin Steve and I were humbled and alarmingly so, as a horde of girls suddenly appeared with shrieks and flashlight beams like a fucking SWAT team. "Laura, look! It's Rickie!" someone shrieked. Laura and I had become regular dance partners at the CYO events. Yes. CYO. Catholic Youth Organization. Catholic School. Catholic campground. And a Catholic (maybe lesbian?) fucking teacher who seemed to have led her adolescent estrogen army on a fucking perv patrol? Steve and I panicked and ran, while Edward casually strolled, loudly proclaiming he was wearing a bathing suit. Steve was a little guy. Not sure why I mention this; if it has anything to do with it, but he apparently tripped over some be-shadowed flora and tumbled and rolled, leaving his towel behind. Girls screamed. I halted and spun around to see him frantically getting to his feet, entirely nude and re-wrapping his dirty towel around himself amid a standing ovation.
We showered. We laughed. We noticed there were windows into the (post-construction re-purposed) shower cabin, high but not TOO HIGH, which were grilled but not frosted and could afford any sly interloper a plain view of us all naked and soapy. We trusted all the girls were accounted for and that no adult leader would go so far as to grant them a peek. Steve's face regained its normal color. We tightened our towels and walked unhindered back to our cabin and Steve's naked roll became the headline story of the week, witnessed by ten girls and one athletic woman.
This concludes the Grade School journey with regards to P&SF interests unless I suddenly recall something I forgot. Next up is part two; high school.
As I do not have REPLY permissions yet I will thank NudeBag, TeenFan, NickTwisp and Freesub here for their thoughtful replies. I must report that I did in fact use backpage to find my original text but it did not work, the previous pages were all blank in that regard. I have now learned to type into notepad and then paste it here!
Nick: I would love to hear more about David Perkins if I haven't already! I have saved a lot of fun stuff from these forums! As much as I love the embarrassing CFNM material, I have eventually learned to love the exhibitionist material as well. Not sure where to find a good forum for young exhibitionist CFNM material.
Teenfan suggested we must inevitably have asked Johnny why he did the streak. I never asked. I'm not aware of Sherry or Jennifer asking. Johnny was a clueless kid. I assumed he mistook my story of the Streak-for-Money Scammer as a legitimate opportunity and streaked expecting a reward. Could he really have been that dumb? I do not know. We were just young kids and did summon speculation that he SHOULD have known better. We were not analyzing. Maybe Johnny was a clever exhibitionist who took an opportunity to show off by playing dumb. I'll never know because sadly we did not remain friends much longer. Otherwise I can only imagine what fun we could have had together, exposing him to girls. I could have been in pervert heaven perhaps...
Instead my mom got serious with her boyfriend soon after and we three moved in together in the next town over, and I never saw these three friends again after that.
SWIMMING UNIT
A couple years later in my new grade school we engaged in the "swimming unit" of the health curriculum and once a week for a couple months Mrs. Willard led the whole class on a walk together to the neighborhood public pool for swimming lessons. After one of the weekly swims I was in the boys change room in rapt conversation with my two new best friends who were sitting side by side on a bench in the process or redressing while I, doing most of the talking, was standing before them wearing only a towel and no sense of urgency. A critical error on my part. Second critical error: when I felt the towel begin to slip, I made a totally illogical, split-second decision, succumbing to that youthful "experimentation" instinct. I was not an exhibitionist nor was I ashamed of my body exactly; I was an athletic kid, but a private one. Nevertheless I opted to let the towel fall just to see what would happen. I was probably hoping for a laugh from my buddies. Instead they STARED PAST me toward the lobby entrance to the change room as my towel hit the floor leaving me entirely naked head to toe. I immediately heard a voice behind me say "Oh Rickie! Bad timing!" It was a female voice. It was Mrs. Willard. "Hurry up boys! The girls are all done! You have two minutes to be out here or I'm coming in again to drag you out!" She said something of that nature. I was stunned. Frozen. Baffled. My friends and other boys then began laughing at me.
"Mrs. Willard saw you naked!" said my buddy Aidan. "She stared right at your bum!" I cleared my head, grabbed the towel and spun around to find that she was gone.
Walking back to school with the class I was in a complete daze. The universe was not a place where teachers got to see their students naked. This was not possible! How is it even LEGAL for a woman to enter the boys' change room? I assumed that life could not possibly go on with me knowing my teacher saw me naked. However: surprisingly it did. I am still alive and my perspective has gradually softened. I now hope she enjoyed it!
GOOD NIGHT KISSES
Stewart and Steven Ellington were respectively one grade above and one grade below me and lived at the opposite end of a short street. Steven and I liked the same music, same sports and we loved finding reasons to get naked together or to compare penises. Their parents, Edna and... I forget their dad's name, but they were popular with me and other friends. They were always letting their boys have friends over and letting us swim in their pool and when they took their boys to the movies or bowling they were always happy to take a couple of the boys' pals along. I spent a lot of time over there and a lot of time swimming and camping out in tents or just in Steve's bedroom. When it was just the two of us we shared his narrow bed. In hindsight he was probably gay or bi and I was bi but at the time could not label it "bi," just "confused." The highlights of this friendship shall be expanded on in part two; the high school years but here is an interesting phenomenon which began in grade school.
Their parents, Edna especially, were overtly loving with their boys; hugging, kissing, embracing. They were very outward people. There was a rich bedtime tradition in their household. The boys would change into pajamas, brush their teeth, prepare for bed, then go downstairs in their jammies for kisses goodnight; a habit their dad fell out of but not sweet Edna. When I slept over, not often at first, I only wore pajama bottoms, no top, and the boys insisted I must partake in this tradition; that anyone sleeping over always did. So I did as I was told and bare-chested, received a hug from their mom and traded kisses on the cheek. The assumption was that Edna saw it as her job to fill in a vital role while my own mom was absent. Not too big a deal. But when us boys outgrew the pajama days and slept in underwear instead, I was shocked to discover the tradition stood. I started going downstairs with fresh breath and almost naked to be embraced and kissed by their mom. It was very weird and awkward the first time and then I pretty much got used to it.
As for the pool, I was told the family skinny dipped after dark on occasion, and if we boys were swimming after dark we were allowed to go naked but had to notify their mom or dad. Steve ALWAYS wanted to skinny dip after dark and would notify his mom and then we would wrestle in the water and play other games that involved a lot of contact. His mom did check on us occasionally during these trysts but I never felt like she was trying to get a glimpse of me necessarily. It seemed too dark anyway. We turned no outdoor lights on, on these occasions. But more on the Ellingtons in the next part!
AN APPENDIX
When I was thirteen I got a pain in my lower right abdomen. Mom insisted it was constipation and had me spend long periods on the toilet while unbeknownst to her, my appendix was plotting to explode. Eventually she and step-dad changed views and off we went to hospital. I was triaged as critical as a long-ignored appendix victim, guided to strip entirely and put in a hospital gown. I then lay on an exam table until a doctor walked in and introduced herself to me and the folks and listened to our story. She said indeed it sounded like the appendix was to blame and I would probably be operated on and soon. But... testicular "twisting" was a rarer but possible cause and was "very dangerous" if ignored, like I would "lose" the testicle. So she HAD to carefully examine for that. And just like that she thrust up the gown and presented to herself and to my parents my brand new enlarged and be-fuzzed boy gear. I should have immediately died of shame and gone to pervert boy heaven but instead I was so scared by talk of ball-amputation and burst appendix, and in enough pain, that my fear and my dependency on the doctor to save my nuts and/or life, outweighed any humiliation. My folks were noticeably uncomfortable though, perhaps because they were not entirely sure if this story made sense or if they were instead witnessing the molestation of their son while this lady methodically and thoughtfully handled my adolescent balls. And she was definitely NOT wearing gloves.
Appendix indeed. I went into surgery and re-emerged sans appendix and was admitted for an entire week. Yes surgery was more primitive back then. One interesting note. At thirteen I had never heard of suppositories. Then one fine day shortly after surgery a nurse appeared with a mysterious agenda. I was wearing pajama bottoms; that's all. She told me something I did not understand and had me roll onto my side. She pulled my pajama bottoms half way to my knees, spread my cheeks, rubbed my butthole with something cool and slippery, then gently slid a gloved finger right up my ass while I wondered why I was being raped. She left a goopy suppository up my ass and slipped away, never to be seen again. I found out later that this was done to help me poop. Trouble is, I was not having any trouble pooping that I was aware of. Oh well.
CAMP TAHOE
Our grade eight contingent overwhelmingly voted on the five-day campground "senior" field trip option over the weekend at Virginia City option. Five days swimming, canoeing, orienteering, hiking and night-hiking. Seven boys including myself formed a cabin group, one-shy of the eight-bunk objective.
Our cabin was at the border of the gender divide. Four girls cabins were strung out to one side of us; three more boy cabins to the other side. On the second day of the trip our cabin got raided by girls. Our shit was all over the place and all of my underwear had been hung by the rafters with care. We found out who did it and that they did so with permission of the female teacher who we thought was a lesbian because she coached all the girl's sports teams. What flawless analysts we'd become.
That night the entire population of one boy cabin repeatedly snuck outside after dark (and curfew) and was repeatedly caught by teacher/parent-chaperone patrols and finally: punished. I don't know if they'd been sneaking out in just their underwear but they were finally made to sit together on a felled-log bench behind our cabin, all in strictly undies and nothing else, to presumably be dined on by mosquitos. The girls next door were evidently enjoying the spectacle because we, who were also watching out our windows, could plainly see all the flashlight beams coming from theirs. The bad boys meanwhile refused to display their shame and instead professed bravado by belting out rude songs while slapping at themselves. Their favorite tune was clearly "There's a skeeter on my peter, whack it off! There's a SKEETER ON MY PETER WHACK IT OFF!!" which frankly made the whole thing a little sexier.
The next day we found out the raid culprits and raided their cabin, and without permission, but we took care not to touch their underthings, sensing that double standards might exist. That night three of us; me, Steve Cribbs and Edward Janney, announced our frustration with the stand up sponge bathing routine in our showerless cabin and set our sights on the legendary shower cabin; a subject of a few lurid tales. It was night hike night for the girls so the shower cabin was designated for boys, who were on free time. Steve got naked, wrapped himself in a towel and grabbed shampoo. I did exactly likewise. Edward wore a bathing suit under his towel, insisting there were multiple girl platoons out there and the mission was not risk-free. We laughed at him and we stepped barefoot into the night.
More than half way to the shower cabin Steve and I were humbled and alarmingly so, as a horde of girls suddenly appeared with shrieks and flashlight beams like a fucking SWAT team. "Laura, look! It's Rickie!" someone shrieked. Laura and I had become regular dance partners at the CYO events. Yes. CYO. Catholic Youth Organization. Catholic School. Catholic campground. And a Catholic (maybe lesbian?) fucking teacher who seemed to have led her adolescent estrogen army on a fucking perv patrol? Steve and I panicked and ran, while Edward casually strolled, loudly proclaiming he was wearing a bathing suit. Steve was a little guy. Not sure why I mention this; if it has anything to do with it, but he apparently tripped over some be-shadowed flora and tumbled and rolled, leaving his towel behind. Girls screamed. I halted and spun around to see him frantically getting to his feet, entirely nude and re-wrapping his dirty towel around himself amid a standing ovation.
We showered. We laughed. We noticed there were windows into the (post-construction re-purposed) shower cabin, high but not TOO HIGH, which were grilled but not frosted and could afford any sly interloper a plain view of us all naked and soapy. We trusted all the girls were accounted for and that no adult leader would go so far as to grant them a peek. Steve's face regained its normal color. We tightened our towels and walked unhindered back to our cabin and Steve's naked roll became the headline story of the week, witnessed by ten girls and one athletic woman.
This concludes the Grade School journey with regards to P&SF interests unless I suddenly recall something I forgot. Next up is part two; high school.
As I do not have REPLY permissions yet I will thank NudeBag, TeenFan, NickTwisp and Freesub here for their thoughtful replies. I must report that I did in fact use backpage to find my original text but it did not work, the previous pages were all blank in that regard. I have now learned to type into notepad and then paste it here!
Nick: I would love to hear more about David Perkins if I haven't already! I have saved a lot of fun stuff from these forums! As much as I love the embarrassing CFNM material, I have eventually learned to love the exhibitionist material as well. Not sure where to find a good forum for young exhibitionist CFNM material.