Comment-dit-on "freeballing"?

I had gym right before French. There were good and bad parts of the mandatory showers. I did worry that I was going to get an erection  or look in the wrong direction at the wrong time. For all my curiosity about male bodies, I tried my best to avoid letting anyone satisfy their curiosity about me. I went to the showers with my towel wrapped around me, eyes fixed on the floor.

And yet, I still managed to see some cock.

One day Phillip was talking to me as we got dressed after gym. We had lockers near each other. I forget what we were talking about. Probably the upcoming class. Who knows? Phil pulled a pair of corduroy pants out of his locker and stepped into them. What's so odd about that? Well, to 16-year old me, the thought that you'd tuck your dick out of the way of the zipper was amazing. I got the last glimpse of his auburn bush as he zipped up his pants before putting on a shirt, his socks (orange), and shoes.

Wasn't there a rule that you had to wear underwear under your pants? I had worn underwear as long as I could remember. It was mandatory. My mother would know if somehow she ended up folding fewer than seven when she did the laundry. Phil wasn't wearing any underwear.

Okay, from my perspective now, freeballing isn't anything incredibly shocking. I've decided that I didn't want to wear underwear on a number of occasions. This was new to me then.

Of course, I sat next to Phil during French class. I spent the whole class thinking about how there was only one layer of fabric between his ass and the chair. Only one layer of fabric between his cock and my eyes.