Greetings, fellow armpit lovers! I have a another confession to make. It's one I've never told before (in person or online) and I'm somewhat embarrassed to share it. But hey, if you can't confess your deepest, darkest secrets to your pit pals, who can you confess to?
When I was younger, somehow, someway, I was sneaky enough to collect one sweaty shirt from each of my three best buddies. I asked myself, "Should I sniff my friends' used shirts?"
Well, this all happened a long, long, LONG time ago.
You'd never know it by meeting me now, but I was a very shy guy growing up as a kid in Texas. Mostly, because I was a closeted gay boy living with a very conservative religious family.
After high-school I remained living with my folks, due to the high cost of going to college full-time. Over time, I made friends with the sons of some of my parent's friends, helping this bashful boy to come out of his shell and become more sociable.
Robert E., Luca A. and Robert A. (a.k.a. Bobby) were my 3 closest friends in my late teens and into my 20's. --- It was my idea that we should call Robert A. "Bobby" so as not to confuse the two guys when we all were together.
The four of us hung around quite a bit, and had lots of fun. However, we eventually stopped meeting as a group when it became apparent that all three of the guys had crushes on my lovely and sweet, younger sister.
Still, I managed to buddy around with the each young man separately, hoping that the 3 guys and my sister could figure out if they were simpatico romantically or not, so we all could hang together again. --- Just between us, I was secretly jealous and didn't want any of them dating her.
My 3 amigos were very special young men and extremely important to me.
First and foremost, there was ROBERT, my true blue friend, whom I could call upon 24/7 to help when I needed an extra hand with chores, or to simply lend an ear. We shared a similar sense of humor, enjoyed the same kind of movies, and both loved trying out new places to eat. (By the way, I recently blogged about Robert.)
Next, there was LUCA, the misunderstood, mischievous, "bad boy" who usually rubbed people the wrong way. Mothers and fathers kept their daughters away from him, girls got nervous around him, and most guys were usually ready to fight him. Although we were polar opposites, the two of us got along very well.
Luca was on a journey to redeem his trouble-maker reputation. I never judged him for his past and although he was straight and very much "Mr. Machismo", he never shied away from fraternizing with someone "not so macho", like me. --- He once admitted that the reason he started hanging out with me was because he was trying to stay away from his hoodlum friends, who were a bad influence.
We both loved music and talking about the travails of life, as well as our feelings. Bobby identified as straight, but had a few same sex indiscretions with a cousin when he was a teen. I confided in him that I had gay tendencies, but was attempting to repress them to appease my family and the church.
Although we saw each other as brothers, Bobby and I did have a little "innocent incident" one night, when I invited him to sleepover at my parent's house, one Saturday evening.
It was late, and everyone else was asleep in their rooms. My bedroom was converted from the car garage, so we were at the opposite end of the house. The only light in my single bed boudoir was the moonlight coming in through the window blinds. I lay on my bed, while Bobby was resting near by, on a folding cot we brought out for visitors. He and I chatted for hours that night, to the point that we were exhausted, but we were having too much fun to go to sleep.
It was probably around 3 A.M. when Bobby began to get upset and rant about how he was never going to find a girlfriend. He then went on to share how emasculated he felt, because his swim coach made the members of the team shave their bodies every week --- the better to glide through the water. This bit of rather personal information was new to me and peaked my interest!
My young friend sat up and beckoned me to feel how smooth one of his arms was. He complained that it felt like that of a girl's. As I gingerly rubbed my hand over his hairless forearm, I assured Bobby that no one would mistake his well toned muscled arm for that of a female's.
Not convinced that I understood his frustration, my buddy then peeled off his t-shirt to reveal his silky smooth chest, which he claimed use to have hair, albeit, not much. Still, it upset him that it was gone, all in the name of swimming competitions.
He lay back down in the cot and raised his arms above his head. His underarms were just beginning to grow a slight bit of peach fuzz. Bobby informed me that the stubble had to be shaved off the coming week.
I practically stared a hole through his moonlight pits, but resisted the urge to reach out and feel their smoothness of his perfect peaks and valleys!
Bobby then pulled back the covers to reveal his legs. The gym shorts he was wearing as pajamas perfected highlighted his muscular hairless legs.
I simply couldn't resist! Finally I gave in to temptation and slowly began inspecting his swimmer's legs with my slow moving hand.
"Hmmm, so tell me, does your coach make you guys shave EVERYWHERE?" I inquired as my hand playfully encroached closer to his private area.
He squirmed and giggled, then immediately placed a nearby throw pillow over his crouch.
I continued to tease and inch my way closer, never ever intending to actually touch his "joystick". He giggled a bit more, then suddenly went silent! And that's when it happened,... his body started to quiver, his eyes shut tight, and he "fully moistened" his gym shorts along with the pillow.
The mood quickly changed and we both agreed the "show-and-tell" session, as well as the playful petting should have never happened.
The incident nearly destroyed our friendship. However, after a few months we reconciled and never talked about it again.
Years later, I was best man at his wedding to Leticia, a very demanding, high-maintenance woman. --- I did try to talk him out of it, even up until we were at the church, waiting for the bride,... who was well over an hour late!
Now that you know the backstory, it's time to talk about the 3 used shirts and the big question I seriously pondered, "Should I sniff my friends' used shirts?"
So, this was decades before the movie BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN made collecting shirts so super romantic.
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| Scene from BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, featuring Heath Ledger. |
As mentioned, somehow, someway, I was sneaky enough to collect one shirt from each of these three buddies. On separate occasions, each friend took off his shirt after sweating in the Texas heat. I lent each guy a fresh one. --- The used, sweat soaked tops were never returned.
I kept those 3 unwashed shirts hanging in my closet. However, I made it very clear to myself that they were there to look at or touch, and never in an inappropriate way.
Still, a nagging question kept going through my mind, "Should I sniff my friends' used shirts?"
The temptation was HUGE for someone like me, who to gets so turned on by manly smells!!!
Oh, how I dreamed of sniffing those shirts. I desperately wanted my nose to experience the sensation, to memorize their individual scents,... especially the musk under the pits of the sleeves, which I was sure would linger the longest and sweetest.
I kept contemplating, "Should I sniff my friends' used shirts?"
Yeah, I know no human on earth would have seen me, however my conscious would not allow me to go there. I kept myself from crossing that line, but still every time I opened my walk-in closet and entered in, I was tempted to grab one, or even all three shirts and go to town with my horny schnoz!
Over and over I debated, "Should I sniff my friends' used shirts? Should I sniff my friends' used shirts?"
Each and every time, no matter the month or year, my answer to myself always came back, "No."
Well, things change, people change.
I moved out of my parent's house, relocated to another town, and fully came out as a gay man.
Robert began dating my sister. When I moved away we slowly lost touch. He and my sis broke up, but he and I sometimes see each other at weddings or funerals.
Bobby and I drifted apart after his reluctant wedding to Leticia. He sometimes bumps into my mom and tells her to tell me hi.
Sadly, while he was still young, Luca was tragically killed in a road accident by a speeding driver.
Much time has pasted since my days with my 3 amigos.
Years ago, as I was packing and preparing to move in with my boyfriend, I came upon the 3 shirts, stored in the far back corner of my closet.
I mulled over whether or not to get rid of the souvenir tops. Still, as I held the 3 folded shirts, I deliberated, "Should I, or should I not, sniff my friends' used shirts?" Surely the garments had lost the scent of their original wearers. But I wondered, could there be a faint trace left? A muted memory perhaps?
Quite reluctantly, I dropped the 3 garments into a cardboard box and donated them to the local Good Will thrift store,... without taking a single whiff.
(Sigh.)
I'm so grateful I had these special guys in my life. To loosely paraphrase poet Alfred Lord Tennyson: " 'Tis better to have had close friendships and lost, than never to have had close friendships at all."
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To read my recent blog entry about my pal Robert, simply click on the link:
NOTE: The models featured in this blog entry are David Rest (Robert), Elsn on Instagram (Luca), and social media celebrity Jay Alvarez (Bobby). Their photos, plus the pictures collected for the collages, as well as the pit pics used for this blog entry, were all found online.
I'd love for us to keep in touch! So, I invite you to my main online platforms:
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NOTE: Just click on the yellow links to get to each site.
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