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He moved one hand up to my smooth chest and pulled me back slightly, until I was leaning back against his body for support.
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Looking at the mirror I could see myself at full attention and watched Brian fondle my now soapy smooth sac in one hand and run the other over the length of my hard shaft. Again he made some comment that made me think he was surprised at the size of my erection (which was probably around 6" when I was this age). My penis quickly began to harden as I watched fixated, on my reflection in the mirror. Then, standing behind me he reached around with both hands and began to gently fondle my balls and cock with his soapy hands. I just continued standing there, like a deer in the headlights. He reach around and lathered his hands with the hand soap and warm water. Brian turned on the faucet in front of us and ran some warm water. He told me what a nice body I had and said I had been running around all morning and need to just relax some. In any event, I was a little unsure what to think of his comment and just stood there. Maybe he was expecting me to be less developed because of my smaller youthful appearance, even though I was 18. He was standing, still fully clothed, behind me. I was taking my clothes off, and as I slipped my underwear off and reached for the swim trunks, I saw Brian's reflection in the changing room mirror. I certainly would have fit the description of a "twink", had that term existed back then. I have blond hair and blue eyes, was maybe 5'6", around 115+ pounds and had a slim build. When it came time to get into my suit, one of the older college guys, Brian, joined me in the pool changing room. Some of the guys had brought swim suits and Chad lent me an extra one he had, as we were both about the same size. One of the other players, Chad, who was also in high school lived near the rehearsal hall, and during a break we all headed over to his house. I was getting a ride back with one of the older players that lived closer to me. The rehearsal was about an hour from my house and my parents dropped me off. My teacher was putting on a concert for some of the local schools and asked me to join the percussion ensemble group he formed. I played percussion for my school orchestra and band in High School and took private lessons as well. This was a true story that happened in Southern California back in the 1970s.