When I was fourteen, I dressed up like a girl and had a threesome with two of my friends. When my parents and sister went to visit relatives for a weekend, I held a house party in which a couple dozen or so people showed up.
Everyone cleared out after the cops showed up concerning noise complaints, with the exception of two of my close friends, who had received permission from their parents to stay the night.
Growing up, plenty of my straight guy friends hit on me. They would playfully dry hump me or want to practice what it was like going up a girl’s shirt, with me being the closest thing they could get to a real girl. I was small in stature with androgynous features. I was often mistaken for a girl and sometimes picked on for it. I enjoyed my male friends’ attention, but never felt the need to take it further for a few reasons:
1. The social ramifications were too much. I often fantasized about making out with a friend while jerking him off, but there was no way I could act on these thoughts in my small, suburban hometown.