Puppy Love by Scot Walker    Puppy Love
by Scot Walker
A retrospective from an 82-year-old
Completed 30 August 2026 with one Chapter (1,225 words)
Puppy Love by Scot Waliker
Coming of Age
Christian Upbringing
Repressed Thoughts
Rated for General Audiences  Rated for General Audiences

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I was scared, well, not scared actually, more like worried, excited, exuberant, happy, sad, living in a make-believe world soon to be off and on my own-in a college 200 miles away where perhaps I might find another guy-no, make that the first guy in my life-living in a dorm, as a boy who'd never spent the night away from home before-other than grandma visits and such-now I'd be what? Naked in a dorm with how many other guys-all of whom, however, would be born again Christians like me-and all I imagined as righteous and God-fearing and tight assed as I was-pun intended because at age 18, I'd never had sex-other than wet dreams-so ignorant in the ways of the world that I had never figured out how to masturbate and of course, living under the mandate that sex before marriage all I had was my religion and my pastor and Youth for Christ and Teens for Christ and church choir to keep me properly grounded in the one true faith, yet I still had dreams about Gordon-who in 10th grade P.E. class would walk out of the shower, come to his locker, put on his socks and walk back to the urinals to pee as I secretly admired-no longed for-his sweet tight smooth ass and his dick and body and I prayed that perhaps, just maybe, I was not the only queer in the universe-and knew all of the rest of them were burning-will be burning-shall be burning in the firepits of hell, but it was 1962 and I was alone-hiding, pretending, dating just enough girls to interdigitate on one occasion and longing for the desire of being with someone I could trust-some boy like me that I could be with-to whom I could reveal my 'nature' another who would not only know me but KNOW me, if you get my drift.

I had just started working as a temporary summer intern at NIH in Silver Spring, a short bus stop from my mother's apartment where I'd live for the summers until I graduated from college when I'd go out on my own as a high school teacher of English and history.

But back to that moment in July 1962, when I was about to buy my first suit-a necessary, so it seems, for me to make the right impression as a college man-so I drove down to the Hecht Company and entered the men's department-thinking how I was no longer a "boy" even though I was small-am small-not mentally-just small everywhere else, 5'6 and ½ I graduated at 118 pounds wanting to match my last 2 numbers with my age. I had brown hair and green eyes, and was small everywhere else, if you get my drift because I'd compare myself with the other boys in the locker rooms-surreptitiously of course-sneaking a view, pretending to look down at my shoe as I tied it or glancing off half-eyed into the distance while glimpsing, remembering, etching one hot body after another into my half-eidetic mind.

But I digress, I had money in my pocket to spend anyway I liked-frugal that I had been for so many years-I digressed again, forgive me for having a mind, soul and body that exists in multi-universes (yes, I write fantasy sci fi, poetry, and plays, but perhaps that's why-perhaps all this hiding all this sheltered in place for the past eight decades have made me wonder what could have been-so let me finally get to the story.)

I looked around for suits-it would be my first---and I had no idea what to do-when Tony came to help me. He was not much older than me-perhaps 20 or 21-but cute as a button as the old saying goes, and he helped me pick out the right material.

"What's the weather like where you're going?" he asked

"New York-Westchester County-on a mountain-probably very cold in the winter and I have bronchitis and-"

I could see him looking at me with a look that meant something but I wasn't sure what it was-not incredulity-not concern that I was mentally incompetent-not demeaning but it was a look that said he really cared-perhaps, too, he may have really been concerned about me - and what I'd be doing for the rest of my life.

"I'm going to a born-again Christian college," I said, "The King's College-named after the King of Kings-it's 40 miles by train from the 'City'." Showing off already about a place I had not even visited, in a city I had never been and picturing myself riding on a train-a train for goodness sakes-it would be my first train trip.

Tony touched me and I tingled and blushed and I think he sensed I need a needed a friend.

"Let me measure you," he said.

And I blushed-no one had ever 'measured me' before-as I wondered what Tony had in his mind.

He took me back to the changing room that was big enough for four with a bench and a few hooks to hang clothes.

"I'll only need to take a few measurements," he said, as his hands began to glide up and down my boyish body and I had to use every ouch of my Christian courage to contain myself.

Up and down my legs he went, and I almost asked if I should just take off my pants so he could get the proper measurement for my legs and waist, but I did not as he continued to gently caress my thighs and then run the tape down from my waist.

"Your pants should barely cover your shoes," he smiled-"but you have high water pants on."

"High water pants?'

He laughed, "It's a saying we use down in Southern Maryland-wearing pants too short-and in case of a flood then you're protected."

We both laughed and I knew I really had found a friend, "I grew a little bit since I bought these," I mumbled.

"No problem, Billy, it was a joke, okay?" He spoke as he looked up-up-up-into my Irish green eyes as his hand to inch its way back up my legs.

I mumbled, bravely, "what exactly are you measuring?"

"Your inseam."

"Would it be better if you took off my pants?" I asked.

"I think that will be the best, then I can measure your thighs and legs and waist," he said as he unfastened my belt, tugged down my pants and let them slide all the way down a thousand miles away-almost as far away as my soul, my mind, my senses lay hiding.

"Should I keep my briefs on?" I asked-"I don't always wear them."

"For now," he said, "it's almost closing time."

I gulped, wondering how I had missed that opportunity as my eyes glazed over and I looked down at him.

"It's time," he said, "Am I right?"

And for the first time in my life I knew I was not alone.

The End

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Puppy Love © 2026 Scot Walker, All Rights Reserved
This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the
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with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.