Date: Tue, 12 Apr 2005 23:05:41 -0400 From: The Gargoyle Subject: My Weird Little Sex Life - Part 2 My Weird Little Sex Life Part 2 By The Gargoyle The following content is absolutely true. I've changed many of the names in order to safeguard my own anonymity, and also to remove duplication of given names which I know can be confusing to readers. HIGH SCHOOL While my encounter with Mrs. MacDonald and her voyeuristic husband convinced me that my preference indeed leaned to the gay side I still figured I'd lead a straight life. I had no intention of coming out of the closet to anyone because I saw no advantage to it. Then I met Daryl. He was in the grade below me but was in my second semester English class because he was fast- tracking through high-school. That is - he was building a 5- year diploma in just 4 years. Daryl was the first boy I found myself significantly attracted to. He was somewhat 'preppy' and often wore deck shoes to school without socks. During class he would sometimes slip his shoes off and I had a hard time concentrating on class and not eyeing his feet. The attraction was strong enough that I came to realize that staying in the closet might not be an option. How could one make love to girls knowing that such strong desires existed that could only be satisfied by boys? The matter was sealed when the second object of my affection came along. That was none other than Kyle, Daryl's close friend - also a year younger than I. The three of us were not only in the same English class (the only class I would ever share with either of them) but we also were in the same work-group. Our desks would be pushed together along with three other students whenever we did collaborative work. I was a decent student but my grades plummeted in this class. I was thoroughly head-over-heels infatuated with this miracle of a boy. Kyle was thin, rather shy and intensely beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Now I finally understood that my being gay would have to be reckoned with. I just couldn't keep my love for this boy a secret. It was burning a hole in my heart. Kyle had a twin brother (a theme in my life, it would come to seem) named Craig. They were physically almost identical. This worked out well for me because I loved Kyle too much to dishonor him by fantasizing about him sexually! So all my masturbatory fantasies revolved around Craig for the longest time. I would imagine kissing him from head to toe - especially the toes, and sucking his dick. I would orgasm quickly (I was using my hand finally) and then spend the next two hours hugging my pillow fiercely, pretending it was Kyle while I cried my eyes out. Rather pathetic I now realize. In my mind I had built Kyle up to be such a wonderful person that he would surely be understanding and sympathetic to my plight. So I chose him to come out of the closet to! This was a horrendous mistake. While I thought I could quietly reveal my undying love for him and receive a compassionate (and profoundly delicious) hug in response, instead it scared the shit out of him. I then spent the next year and a half begging him to meet with me privately, intending that I would properly explain the situation and assure him that this whole mess was no big deal from his point of view and no threat to his own heterosexual future. I promised to entirely disappear from his life after our private meeting. All this he flatly rejected and in a fiasco of immaturity I declared that I'd given up on life and found myself in a psychiatrist's office. Dr. Blake was more messed up than I was. He made a career of counseling gay kids. He would always sit immediately beside me on the couch, regularly put his arm around me and always insisted on warm hugs before and after each session. His repeated advice was to get myself laid by a nice gay boy and then I would forget all about Kyle. I was certain Dr. Blake had no clue what he was talking about and suspected that perhaps HE should be paying ME for our sessions with all the groping going on. Dr. Blake, I'm sad to say, took his own life some time later, long after I had given up on our sessions having discovered the vastly superior benefits of support-group therapy. OUT My first evening at the gay support group offered me my first cognizant contact with other gays and lesbians. It was wonderfully liberating. After the meeting the group headed out to the local gay bar, as was their custom. I was underage so I started walking to the bus stop instead when one of the fellows came up behind me and invited me out for coffee. Paul was older, unattractive (in my judgement) and seemed a little slick in personality but being so eager to have someone to talk to, I went with him. We wound up at the apartment he shared with his dad and went straight to his bedroom, coffee apparently forgotten. He assured me rather pointedly that we would not be disturbed by his dad. I wasn't at all concerned about that and wondered why he hadn't introduced us (god, I was naive). We listened to music and talked. At one point he looked at my lap and said, "Nice basket. Want to have a picnic?" He then brandished some magazines of a quality I've never seen before or since. They contained picture series of gorgeous teenagers (my age) stripping naked and jerking off for the camera. I was spellbound. Unfortunately my reverie was interrupted when Paul suddenly pressed his face to mine and snaked his tongue down my throat. A very unfortunate first-kiss I must say. I patiently waited for this to stop, regretfully put the magazine down and stood up to leave. He fell to his knees before me, reached for the button of my jeans and said, "May I?" "Not tonight," said I. "Let's wait til we get to know each other a bit better, okay?" He graciously stood and walked me to the bus stop. I had no intention of getting to know him better and avoided him at every future opportunity. I went home that night and in my room I fantasized about being one of the magazine boys. I stripped, imitated some of the poses I'd seen and jerked off. At the next support group meeting I met two fellows, Danny and Pat. They were also new to the group and meeting each other for the first time. Afterwards the three of us went for coffee - at a real coffee shop - and became fast friends. I was the glue that brought us together though I didn't yet realize it. I would later discover that each of them had designs on me. Pat was a few years older. Danny was my age and initially we became quite close. I wouldn't have guessed that it would actually be Pat that would prove to be a truly marvelous person and a dear life-long friend. Danny was extremely outgoing, a bit of a 'queen' already at 17 and highly promiscuous. He'd borrow his dad's giant Buick and we'd drive all over town. He'd show me the cruising areas, not that I cared to know, and make me listen to dreadful dance music. One night he took us to a dark area just off the road that overlooked the city (not the place where I met Marilyn). We sat close together on the bench style front seat and talked about our problems and listened to the radio. He described something his mother used to do to make him sleepy when putting him to bed at night. He wanted to demonstrate and took my hand and drew light ticklish circles on my palm with his finger. It felt good and I just relaxed and let him do it. "Would you mind if I take this a little further?" he asked. This took me entirely by surprise. I was not attracted to him physically and never suspected he thought of me that way. "Um, I guess not," I said. He continued with my hand and then traveled up and down my bare arm. He rubbed my chest through the shirt then slipped his hand under it and worked his way up my bare chest. The sensations were pleasant. I was wearing athletic shorts (which were still rather short in those days. The longer style shorts - jammers, I believe they were called at the time - were just beginning to come into fashion at that time but were strictly the domain of skateboarders!) He began tickling my thigh and then my inner thigh. His hand slipped inside the leg of my shorts and up the front of my leg til he reached the liner of my shorts. My dick was rising and soon he found it through the liner. He gave it a brief squeeze and it became very hard indeed. Danny 'ooh'ed and giggled. He withdrew his hand and then crept forth again, this time going under the liner and beneath my underwear. He grazed through my pubes, tickled my balls and then circled the base of my hard-on. I had my eyes closed, just enjoying the wild sensations. He slowly ran a single finger up the length of my dick and down again. "Do you mind if we take these off?" he asked, meaning the shorts. "Okay." "Shirt first, he said, and began rolling it up and off me. I lifted my arms and let it come off. He trailed his fingers down my chest, smiling with approval. He grabbed the waistband of my shorts, I lifted my ass and in a flash he had them - and my underwear - around my ankles. He was all smiles as he caressed my hard dick. "Are you embarrassed that I'm seeing you naked?" he whispered. "No," said I, though I was, but just a bit. "Move over," he directed. I slid closer to the passenger door. He wanted room to bend over. "May I give you your first blow job?" he asked, grinning sweetly. I just nodded. Down he went. It was heavenly. I never imagined anything could feel that good. He took it all the way. He was talented. His tongue was everywhere. One hand played with my balls. He tried to force the other under my butt. When I realized what he wanted I lifted up for a second so he could get his hand under my ass. On the radio, Fleetwood Mac's current hit 'Big Love' was playing. He alternately blew me and jerked me off for the duration of seven more songs. I used to be able to name them all. Though it felt awesome I couldn't seem to come no matter how I tried. I apologized. "Why?" he asked. "I'm in no hurry. I'm still enjoying this!" But he was on a strict curfew because his dad worked night shift and needed the car. We did have to quit. "I want to see you come," he said. "Will you jerk yourself off?" I thought that was a good idea and he sat back and watched while I stroked it. Still I couldn't come. I was mystified. "What's different?" he asked. "How do you normally do it at home?" "I just get naked and lie down and do it." "Do you need to lie down? Do you need to get naked?" "No, I sit sometimes, and I'm practically naked already." "Not quite," Danny declared and pulled my shorts off my ankles along with shoes and socks. Then he even took my wristwatch off. He sucked me some more then took my hand and placed it around my cock. I jerked off again while he stroked my chest and legs and I came. I've never been one to shoot very far but this one popped about 15 inches. More dribbled out and down went Danny to gobble it up. Afterwards he asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend. I felt really sad for him and told him that I just didn't feel that way about him. He seemed okay with that. For the next couple months Danny and I got together frequently. Any time one of us could borrow our parents' car we would end the night by parking somewhere remote. He would strip me naked, blow me and watch me whack off. Sometimes he'd get me to open my door and stand just outside so he could sit on the side edge of the seat and fondle my butt. Just to be fair I asked him a couple of times what I could do to help him get off but he always turned me down. One night I slept over in Danny's basement bedroom with him. His parents didn't yet know he was gay. Pat was meeting us early the next morning at Danny's place to take us golfing - something neither Danny or I had done before. He stripped me and worshipped my dick. I jerked off and then we slept together in his somewhat small bed - my first time sleeping with a gay guy. He cuddled me from behind with his arm around me. He confessed that he'd always wanted to do that. I felt him getting an erection. I reached down and held it for a bit but he shooed me away. He also let me in on a secret - that Pat was jealous of the two of us spending so much time together - that Pat wanted me for himself. This took me by surprise. The next morning we were awakened by Pat's voice calling to us. Danny's mom had let him in and sent him down to Danny's room. I flew out of the bed, still naked, dragging a blanket and pillow with me. Pat had no idea that Danny and I had been fooling around and I hoped to keep it that way. I threw myself onto a small couch right by the door and just managed to get the blanket across my midsection when Pat came through the door laughing and telling us to rise and shine. I acted like I had slept on the couch and was just awakening. I couldn't help notice that Pat was eyeing my exposed chest and legs. So I figured Danny's report must be true. To be continued.