What I enjoyed best was peeing into hoses. The first one I tried was the drain hose from a washing machine. It was big enough to easily cram my entire dickie into. It had a big curve at one end where it was supposed to fit into a drain pipe. I rested one end of the hose on the ground and tried my peter in the other end. Instant delight! A good fit. I began playing with the washer hose more than anything else. I often took it to the clump of bushes where the garage met the back fence. Hiding in the bushes (and able to see if anybody came out of the house) I dropped my pants and peed into the thick black hose , then tilted it and watched the piss run out on the ground.
There were several different types of hoses to try. My favorite was a long garden hose. The house and garage were at the top of a gentle slope several feet higher than the sidewalk and street. After several attempts, I succeeded in what I thought of as Long-Distance peeing. I would unroll the hose, leaving one end in the garage and stretching the rest of it along the driveway and down to the public sidewalk. Then, with all kinks and bends straightened out, I stood hidden in the garage and popped out my dick. Fitting my dickhead into the coupling on the end of the hose, I let loose with as much piss as I had been able to accumulate.
When my bladder was empty I ran down to the sidewalk to scope the puddle of Long-Distance Pee spreading from the end of the hose. Sometimes I had to wiggle the hose to encourage the flow, but eventually my own personal piss drained through the hose to end up on the concrete sidewalk in full view of everybody. Anybody passing by, of course, thought it was just water.
There was a kid in that neighborhood that I kind of knew. Not exactly a friend because he was a little older and sometimes made fun of me, but we played together from time to time despite him being fairly annoying. One day I was standing on the sidewalk watching my Long-Distance Pee run out of the hose when Ryan showed up. He wanted to know what I was doing. I said "Trying out the hose."
He kept pestering me to know more than I wanted to tell. I told him that water would run down the hose all by itself because of one end of the hose being higher than the other. "Well, duh!" was Ryan's answer, which was what I deserved for being so sarcastic to him.
After a lot of back-and-forth he asked "So, you poured water in it up there?"
I thought maybe I could get rid of him by telling him something gross. So I told him the truth. I lowered my voice: "No, I peed through it. That's pee."
I expected Ryan to tell me off by saying something like "You're nasty. I'll never play with you again." Which was sort of what I wanted so I could get rid of him and play my peter games in private.
Instead he looked at me real strange and then lowered his voice. "Can I pee in it too?" he asked.
That put an entirely different twist on the thing. I started to say "Fat chance," but almost instantly changed my mind. "You really want to try?" I asked.
We went into the garage and looked at the end of the hose. I picked it up and held it as high as my crotch. But I didn't do anything else.
"Go ahead, do it," Ryan said.
"I already used up all the pee I had. You do it."
"But," he protested, "I'd have to get my Dingie out."
It was my turn to say "Well duh."
"You go down there and wait," he told me. "I'll do it and come down in a minute."
I was not about to leave Ryan in the garage alone. Why? Because I wanted to watch him get his "Dingie" out. It was a new feeling, a new wish. If anybody was going to get their Dingie out in that garage while playing a game I had invented, I wanted to see it. I'd never even considered the idea before; now that it was about to happen I was seized with a strange feeling of anticipation.
What it required was for me to get mine out first and show Ryan how I did it. This was another brand-new thing. Nobody'd ever looked at my dick before, yet I discovered I was willing to give up some of my privacy in exchange for another guy doing the same.
After what seemed like hours of talking about it, Ryan finally pulled his zipper down and gave me a piece of information that I didn't know what to do with: "I can't pee right now. My Dingie's hard."
I knew a thing or two about hard peters because they pestered me from time to time at school. But remember that I was still on the unchanged side of puberty.
"Can I see?" I asked him.
"You won't get mad or tell anybody?"
"Naw. You already saw mine. Are you gonna tell?"
He spread his fly and pulled out a stiffie that poked out of his pants at a nearly upright angle.
"See?" he asked. "Can't piss when it's hard."
He invited me to touch him to see how hard it was, meanwhile feeling of me. This was a first for me but probably not for Ryan.
"I know what I'll do," he told me. "Did your Dingie ever make a white load?"
"A white load?"
"You know, when you..." He displayed a hollow fist and moved it up and down. "When you squirt one?"
He took hold of his erection and wiggled it around a few times. Then he began stroking back and forth on what he called his Dingie. After a few minutes he said "Hold the hose up. No, hold it up in the air and let the end of it come down to my Dingie." He kept pumping himself for another moment and then told me, "I'm gonna shoot it in the hose."
He inserted he head of his dick into the hose coupling while the two of us held the hose above his dick. "You gotta learn to do this," he told me. "We could help each other do it."
He made a noise that sounded like a moan to me. Was he in pain from what he'd been doing to his Dingie? Had he done something he shouldn't have?
His body shook all over. He quit pumping large strokes and moved his fingers slowly, just jiggling himself. After a moment he sucked in a loud breath and said something I couldn't understand. Then he pulled the hose away from his dick. A strange string of something wet hung briefly between them. He said "It came. It came. It feels good when it comes."
We played the Long-Distance Pee game together nearly every time I went to my grandmother's after that. My friend always pumped his Dingie until he made a white load. He let me help all I wanted.
It was a couple of years until I discovered what my own dickie would do. When I began shooting we quit messing with the hose so much, although from time to time we did shoot loads into various things. We found a dark corner in the garage where we could stand facing together with our pants down and spend our time concentrating on bringing each other's Dingies to happy conclusions.