By the age of 12 when other boys are usually just beginning puberty, I already had sprouted a noticeable strip of center-line body hair extending up from my groin to my stomach. The pubic hair around my groin was already dark and bushy. My balls - I still just absolutely hated the big things - of course had continued to only grow yet larger. I'd become convinced that this was no longer God's, but surely Satan's handiwork. It was really no consolation to me that at least the satchel seemed to have finally caught up to the appropriate size needed to hold the cursed things. I was now the wholly-ashamed owner of two regulation-sized golf balls in their matching custom-made golf bag. But there was to be NO discussion of the devil's work in our house: "Es war sehr V-E-R-B-O-T-E-N."

And my testicles seemed to now actually ache all the time, and being always somewhat squished in my pants only exacerbated the problem, too. I remember one related incident that happened while I was working in the east field with my older brother. I was wearing a pair of Zechariah's hand-me-down boys black pants at the time. (Black is the only color in the ever-stylish Amish man's slack wardrobe, by the way.) These pants were getting tight though, and just not accommodating my privates well at all. The pain in my balls was almost throbbing that particular morning, and I was clearly in some distress. I tried to rub the soreness away as inconspicuously as I could, but eventually my brother Zec must have taken notice.

"Peter, are you very sore... you know... down there?" he asked calmly and matter-of-factly, gesturing with his nodding head towards my privates.

"Yeh... I am," I admitted openly.

He paused and started nodding his head with some acknowledgement as he walked towards me. His expression told me that he understood exactly what I was - they were - feeling like. I somehow felt safe enough with him to risk adding more to this usually strictly off-limits topic.

"Zec, they just hurt more all the time, too," I remember saying, and started to rub them overtly to ease the discomfort I was feeling, since Zec seemed to be understanding.

"I know Peter. You see my own... well, they ached just like that when I was around your age, too. That aching will stop eventually," Zec said, patting my head sympathetically. His words were comforting, and as it turned out, also were true. They did stop aching a few years later, but that passage of time seemed like an eternity to me back then.

Many minutes passed while Zec and I continued to work in silence. Zec paused again, then straightened up and looked right at me. Surprisingly, he picked up on the general topic again as if we'd never had a long break in our conversation.

"Peter, you might want to try wearing men's overalls from now on - like mine here - rather than those pants. They're just much more comfortable to work in. They'll fit you better.. ah, you know... down there," he said, gesturing again towards my crotch.

I guessed that Zec apparently must have mentioned 'my situation' to my mother too, because she set to work making me a few pairs of my own men's overalls - the kind with the straps that come over the shoulders from the back and attach to the high bib in the front to hold them up. And it was kind of odd, but she made them extra-roomy in the crotch area, too, as if she just knew I'd grow into them fast enough. When she'd finished sewing the first pair and presented them to me, I bounded immediately up to my bedroom to slip into my first real pair of MAN'S overalls.

Ahhhhh, the truly simple pleasures of life... If my privates could have talked, they would have been joyfully screaming, "Free at last. Free at last! Oh Lord, we're free AT LAST!" There was suddenly SO much room. Nothing squished them. I remember how incredibly good it felt to be able to have them just hanging there in free space while still being fully-clothed. I could almost feel the cool air circulating all around and over my privates, and that new sensation started to actually arouse me. Wearing these overalls felt WUNDERBAR!

There was finally ample room now for my still-growing gonads and little Johann, too. This curse of mine apparently hadn't just been solely directed on his closest neighbors - not at all. Johann had really always kept up with the Jones - or maybe it was actually just the other way around. But unlike my balls, I actually was initially quite pleased with what I saw happening to little Johann. No doubt I was comparing myself with those mental photographs I'd taken of both my father and brother so long ago when that brief opportunity had presented itself. Yes, it certainly seemed to me that there was a long way to go, but still ....

"Just maybe I won't be a runt, or at least SUCH a runt," I remember thinking to myself. At least there was this definitely 'growing' sign that I had room for hope now, anyway. But what I really longed for all the time was to just grow taller. At the rate I was going, I was never going to be a 'big man'.

Certainly by this time in my life, I'd also become socially acclimated to the notion that I was supposed to eventually exhibit some real interest in girls. Men got married to woman and somehow they had families, although the exact mechanism of how babies came into this world was still completely unknown to me. In fact, choosing a mate is the most important decision in an Amish man's life. Boys and girls begin their search for a spouse in earnest when they turn 16 years old. Certainly by the age of 20 or so it is expected that you will be married. And although Amish brides almost always wearing a BLUE wedding dress, by the way, rest assured that, as a group of young women, they are entirely more deserving of 'virginal white' than most Outlanders.

What seemed to be increasingly holding my undivided attention however were men - physically mature men. I had no name for this attraction I felt inside of me but it was much more intense that merely a special curiosity or an interest. Instinctively, I also just knew several things about this 'feeling' rather immediately. This was unusual since I had never even heard of anything even remotely to do with sex or heterosexuality discussed by anyone. So how or even where I had picked up these notions remains a mystery to me, let alone the very vague concept I had of my emerging different sexual orientation. Regardless, I guess that I must have somehow 'divined from the universe' that this special interest of mine was also definitely not socially acceptable somehow - even perhaps dangerous to divulge. It was something else that must be kept completely my secret. In a similar vane, I knew that it was not OK to display any special 'attention' to men at all in public, either. Instinctively I knew I shouldn't stare at any man, lest someone follow my eyes and somehow figure out my secret thoughts or feelings - these strange desires that held an increasing power over me, but that I couldn't even put a name to.

But it was the thoughts of men that always filled my head at night. I imagined things. I had incredibly vivid dreams - dreams of men who, in various ways, seemed to have certain specific attributes in common. They were always big, powerful and very strong. I'd think of a few of the men I'd seen on some previous excursion into town and use those 'photographic memories' of them as the basis for constructing my vivid nocturnal 'imaginings'.

I remember sitting on the curbside alongside our parked buggy while my father or one of my brothers was off doing 'grown-ups' business. I'd be watching all of the people go by, but always seemed to watch the grown men most intensely. On those rare occasions when an especially bigger-looking man would come into my view, my eyes would lock onto him like a dog on a bone. Little Johann often would automatically begin to get bigger too. I didn't feel safe anywhere outside of my own bedroom with letting Johann get too hard however, although I always wanted to.

On one particular Saturday during that hot summer immediately prior to my entering the regional public high school, I'd gone into town with Zec to help out with the usual loading and unloading of our wagon with various goods and supplies. Zec was doing some business inside one of the stores while I waited patiently outside, sitting in my usual position sitting on the curbside with my feet in the street, knees pulled up, and people-watching. I was wearing my new "mans" overalls. Out of nowhere, the figure of a male came into my right-side's field of vision - and he was absolutely a giant. I was so dumbfounded that I think my heart skipped a beat or two. By the way he was dressed he was obviously also an outlander.

There were many large wooden barrels sitting along side of a truck which was parked directly next to our wagon. This outlander started lifting them into the back of the truck. I knew just how heavy each of those barrels was; I'd hoisted enough of them myself on occasion, and it usually took the 3 of us brothers working together to lift just one of them. Amazingly though, this man was easily hoisting one after another all by himself.

Being the hot season, he was wearing what they called a tee-shirt. It looked to me as if his tee-shirt had been painted on to him, so tightly did it fit his body. I realized that I was staring too, but it seemed impossible to move my eyes anywhere else. I lowered my head a bit to not be quite so obvious, but I continued to peer at him intensely from underneath the brim of my straw hat.

There were these - these breathtaking formations - these large, big 'shapes' everywhere underneath his tee-shirt. From his head to his waist, nothing was flat at all! As he moved around doing his work, new and powerful contours were continuously revealing themselves to me. There were very big ones as well as very small ones - maybe hundreds of them. Suddenly more individual muscles were visible to me than I even knew existed in a man's body. I'd never seen such incredible musculature before, nor had I thought that such a man even existed!

I felt my heart beating stronger as I sat there watching him lift each barrel and then set it down on the bed of his truck. I was especially enthralled by how very... well big, actually... his arms were. I was also aware that little Johann was uncontrollably growing rather alarmingly big too, steadily creeping it's way farther down the backside of my pant leg under my thigh. My new overalls were loose enough however to give little Johann some maneuvering room without being particularly visible to anyone if I remained in my seated position. But this time, I actually didn't try to inhibit little Johann from swelling up. The feeling seemed too pleasurable to resist. The sensation was far more intense than ever before. I knew that I was being careless by allowing myself to stare, but gawking at this impressive man was obviously connected intimately and directly with the incredibly pleasurable feeling coursing through little Johann. Suddenly, every part of me wanted to just be able to... to F-E-E-L that man's arms.

The man had glanced over at me a few times, and apparently finally noticed that I was always looking directly at him, too. He stopped for a moment and waved at me, saying, "Hello". I immediately waved back.

I was quiet and reserved usually, so I frankly startled myself when suddenly I impulsively blurted out, "You are VERY strong, Mr.!!!"

Right then and there the most astonishing thing happened. The man straightened up tall, lowered his arms down to his sides, then smiled right at me. Then magically, he squared his big shoulders which somehow MADE the two very large muscles on his chest stick out right in front of my eyes. They kind'a just sort'a well... seemed to puffed up, amazingly - and in immediate response, little Johann began puffing up rather amazingly, too, literally by the second.

The man was still looking directly at me as he reached down with one arm, firmly grabbing just one handle on the side of a barrel. I thought to myself," Mein Gott! He's going to actually lift it with just his ONE arm!" It seemed as if he wanted to make sure that I was still paying very close attention to him.

He took a deep breath and then - one-armed - he slowly lifted that huge barrel off of the ground. My mouth opened-wide as I watched in total wonder. He was just so... so unbelievably strong. He grinned right at me as he pulled that heavy barrel amazingly all the way up to his chest. I'd never seen anything like the muscle in the front of his upper arm before. It was just immense - equally the size of a very large grapefruit - and looked equally as edible to me, too. My head spun dizzily as I watched his deliberate display of strength obviously directed at me. Johann was getting dangerously big now, nearly half way down the back of my pant leg. I could feel the weight of it pulling down the back of my pant leg.

Never taking his eyes off mee, the man lowered and then raised the barrel to his chest again - and then he did it AGAIN! Sometimes he'd look intently at his own fantastically large muscle which astoundingly seemed to me to be getting even larger. Then he'd glance back at me again, as if to make sure I was still watching. The truth is that by that point, nothing else could have distracted me. He had my totally devoted, undivided attention.

Finally he set the barrel down. Then, grinning directly at me, he cocked his arm so that I could see the big muscle in front form up into a gigantic grapefruit.

He asked me in a loud whisper, "Do ya think it's big, boy?"

Did I think it's 'big'? I couldn't have dreamed that an arm muscle could ever be so huge!

I was overcome with an urge to just lower my leg to forcefully press and pin little Johann between the back of my thigh and the curbside - and I did just that, even as I simultaneously blurted out involuntarily my one-word reply.

"W-O-W !!!"

I slammed my leg down actually, and just as hard as I could. These incredible sensations flooded through me instantly. And Johann suddenly began to throb with powerful pulsations over and over again. I was almost convulsing with these continuous waves of pleasure. When it finally was over, I'd completely filled my pant leg inside with cum; and somehow I just knew that the man with the big muscles also knew exactly what I'd done.

Almost immediately, feelings of shame as well as some genuine fear swarmed over me. I involuntarily leaped up probably intending to just run away as fast as I could. My copious juice immediately streamed down my leg and ran all over my boot. I froze, looking down in dismay at the mess at my feet. Only moments later, Zec came bounding out of the door of the store, saying, "Let's get going Peter!"

When I glanced up, the man with the big muscles and his truck both had just vanished. But there I was, caught red-handed regardless. Trapped. All of the evidence of at least some perceived sin was too clearly visible down below me and utterly impossible to hide. I was so scared and it must have shown all over my face. It was then that the 2nd miracle of that day just happened.

As Zec walked towards me standing beside our wagon, he spotted the situation in the back of my pant leg - only a blind man could have missed it anyway. I saw his eyes follow my leg down to the big mess all over my boot that also flowed onto the curbside. Zec just started to shake his head, but it was more like an expression of only very mild disapproval, as if he was thinking, "Little brothers can be a real pain in the neck sometimes...."

He put his hand on my shoulder blade and gently pushed me towards the wagon.

"Quick now... get in the wagon, Peter..."

I'd complied and leaped into the back of the wagon, then presto - we were off again heading towards home.

Many long minutes later, I heard Zec's voice coming from the front of the wagon.

"Don't worry too much, Peter. That's happened to me. I used to have those kind of accidents, too. It's OK. Don't worry. It'll just be our secret. I'm not going to tell Mother or Father...."

I listened to the horse's hooves clomping steadily on the pavement for awhile.

Then as if to encourage some special brotherly male bonding - and note that this expression of sexuality was completely uncharacteristic of the Amish, too - Zec suddenly added, "So Peter... It feels pretty good, doesn't it?"

Well yes, it had felt unbelievably good actually to me for a moment. And I now had some other new pieces of information. This 'flooding your pants' thing also had apparently happened to my brother Zec; moreover, I gleaned indirectly that it also felt very good to him, too. But I passed up the opportunity to fraternally bond over this completely male experience and chose to remain silent, for I knew that while the same thing may have happened to Zec, it most definitely was not for the same exact reasons.

Zec was going to be married very soon. He was even growing his beard(Amish-style without a mustache); this being the Amish male billboard that officially announces, "I'm taken and off the market." For as long as I could remember anyway, Zec also always had the same obvious 'interest' for women that I seemed to have for men. I did not want to risk further discussion- or worse suffer any additional questions from him - about the specific details of 'my accident'. One sin was quite enough for that day and I didn't want to add lying to that list either. But Zec's reassurances nevertheless had felt good to me and certainly had calmed and soothed me greatly; and he very wisely never pressed for any further conversation. It was thankfully never even mentioned again.

And so I was about to enter public high school that very Fall. I was a really very quiet, even shy and always obedient boy - raised completely with the simple Amish value system of austerity and hard work. I had an implicit understanding of the need to conform to the rather austere Amish social conventions; those having been instilled in me from the earliest age. I was about to find out just how difficult it would actually be to continue to conform though. I was different and I knew it. •