One of my earliest erotic memories is of sitting in the local library, a mousy 9-year-old with a fondness for reading. My little hand is flipping through the pages of a book about classical Greek vase paintings which I'd managed to heft down with difficulty from the shelves of the art section.
In ancient Greek art, it was customary to depict female figures clothed and males in the nude. So suddenly I'm looking at all these pictures of muscular naked guys lounging around next to girls in beautifully draped gowns. Through the drapery, you could see that the girls had nice curves; their hair was teased into pretty ringlets. The men all had broad shoulders, washboard abs, narrow waists and thick, corded thighs (and the tiniest cocks and balls, but that's a whole other fetish …) I remember looking from the bare flesh to the clothed and back again and getting this fizzy feeling in my chest as though I'd just overdosed on Cola drops.
So that was my first taster. It wasn't until years and years later, though, that my vague feelings crystallized into a genuine fetish. I was 15, it was the summer holidays, and … you know what, sorry to be a tease, but I really ought to save this for one of my stories. Here's the short version: this one boy decided that, as he had no chance of persuading me or my best friend to take our clothes off, the next best thing would be to engineer a situation where we saw him and his friend in the buff instead. As a result, I encountered my first erect penis ... in the hot and sticky flesh. I'm pretty sure he introduced me to the term CFNM as well.
He was incredibly annoying and not half as sexy as he thought, but I owe a lot to him. And those naughty ancient Greeks, of course.
|Naked guy chatting with girl in charge of the nibbles.|