It didn't take long to figure out what turned them on. Right from the start we were all in each other's space, talking all night, flipping through magazines together, going through each other's stuff when we thought everyone else wasn't looking. But you know, even with all that sharing, the most telling thing was just watching them when they were watching something else. Watching their expressions when we had on some late-night pseudo-porn and everyone had their eyes glued to the set.

Lance just loved to see people making out, loved it when some random movie had a scene of a couple getting it on under the sheets, or in a back seat, or I think his personal favorite might have been up against a wall. Not the hardcore stuff, just the open mouths and wet lips and bodies touching and bare breasts being fondled. He'd always stop just short of touching himself, resting a hand on his inner thigh all casually. You'd know when it was something he really liked because he'd stop moving his head; the rest of him might shift but the head stayed riveted on the screen.

Sometimes it seemed like Chris could find anything at all sexy, as long as it was attached to a human being. He would always say how someone had a fine ass or great arms or a really hot neck. The guys would laugh like he was joking but I really think he meant it. The thing that made Chris quiet, though, the thing that made him open his eyes wide and watch, was when people were naked. Not naked as in doing stuff with each other, just naked and showering, or lying on top of a bed, or walking across a room in moonlight. His eyes would run up and down their bodies and his breath would catch.

Joey loved him a good threesome. He was always the most vocal about putting some porn on, maybe because he though that we all expected it of him. Maybe because he though we all wanted to see it, too, but just didn't want to say. He'd watch just about anything we'd put on, and like it all, but he just really got into the threesomes, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes darting around the screen trying to follow which arm went where and touched who and how that leg got there. I wondered sometimes if he wasn't making a mental map, a game plan, to try it all out for himself one day.

JC ... liked boys. And not just boys getting it on, which we sometimes stopped on for a few seconds while channel surfing when Chris said someone's ankles looked hot. As a matter of fact, JC looked distinctly uncomfortable when that happened, and tried to look away while Joey and Lance laughed at Chris. But I'll say this -- I've never watched as much competitive diving in my life as I've watched when I've been with JC, and he had a particular fondness for movies about boys' schools, too. He'd bite his lip and pull his knees up to his chest and mumble something about how that guy was robbed, or my, wasn't that a good plot twist.

And me, what did I watch that turned me on, left me breathless, made me lick my lips and not want to so much as blink? That's easy. Them.