AUTHOR'S NOTE -- this is a new series about a young man in the South of England who struggles to come to terms with his sexuality. Over the next few chapters he will be exposed to some of the more unusual sides of gay life and the questions that many young homosexuals have to ask themselves. Over the coming chapters he will be exposed to mild sado-masochism, transvestism and questions about roles in relationships. This first chapter relates his experiences as a boy coming to terms with his homosexuality and youthful crushes and the thin line between sexual orientations at that age. Readers' comments are welcome and character development thrives on input from others so if you have any comment or suggestions for improvements please get in touch.
BEN'S STORY 01 -- GROWING UP GAY!
By John Courtney
Let me tell you a little bit about myself. My name is Ben and I was twenty-one last June. My real name is Benedict but I don't like the name so I never use it. I live in a quiet suburban street in the south of England. I have short brown hair, blue eyes and I am quite fair-skinned. Some people say I'm quite cute but I wouldn't be model material if you ask me. I stand only five foot eight and am in reasonable enough shape. I don't do sports but I swim a little and like going to the gym. I like doing leg curls and squats because I'm trying to develop a bubble-butt like the guy next door has.
Yes there's a chap my age living next door! His name is Peter. Peter is the same age as me and we sort of grew up together as friends. We went to different schools so by and large we were only really acquaintances in later years but we still get on well. Peter is drop-dead gorgeous. He swims regularly and has the lithe form of a champion athlete. He's not that good at swimming really. He's not even on his club's first team but he takes it seriously, he even shaves his legs for speed but I understand from mutual acquaintances that it doesn't make much difference. Peter is a crap swimmer and all the shaving in the world wouldn't make him championship material.
But Peter is a real cute character. He has bangs of dark hair that fall over his forehead in a heavy fringe, sparkling blue eyes and a set of teeth that any of the Osmonds would kill for. The guy has only one drawback when it comes to me thinking about being with him -- he's straight as an arrow and I fancy the Speedos off him!
The story I am going to tell you began in the summer of 1998 just after my eighteenth birthday in June. It was a warm day and I was watching Peter sunbathe in his back garden. He couldn't see me because I was behind the thick net curtains in my bedroom. I had just finished my last examination at college and was tired but the vision in the next-door neighbour's garden was too much to resist. Peter was lying on an inflatable mattress in the middle of his garden. He was lying on his tummy with his cute Speedo-covered butt facing skyward.
I sprung an instant boner at the sight. I dreamed I could crawl up behind him and lick, kiss, chew, munch in fact just worship his arse. But Peter wasn't the type that would get off on that and I knew that my fantasy would never become reality. I opened my zip and released my dick -- thank God I have a trustworthy right hand to get me through situations like this. Believe me it was not the first time that Peter had inspired a good wank for me!
I don't believe that I was gay growing up. Some people think you're born that way but I don't go along with that idea. Peter had a lot to do with making me this way and I think I should tell you a bit about why I think that.
When we were only eight years of age we used to play school in his garage during the school holidays. In those days Peter was a tiny bit taller than me so most of the time he would play the part of the teacher. The game was quite silly really! I would sit at a makeshift desk and he would ask me a difficult question like how deep is the Thames. Naturally I couldn't answer this so he would take me by the ear and scold me for being a bad student. Then he would sit on a box, take down my shorts (I always wore soccer shorts in Summer) and slap my bare bum six times with his hand. It was silly, fun but very innocent, or so I think! Peter liked being the teacher all the time and I protested that I wanted a turn. I asked my question and he got the answer wrong but when I told him to drop his shorts he protested.
"That will take too long!" He was wearing khaki shorts with a button fly and a belt. So I insisted that he get eight slaps because his bum was protected. He agreed and I smacked him. It hurt my hand a bit but I'm sure it didn't hurt his bum!
We played this little game almost every day for about four or five weeks. Most of the times I was the pupil and the game was okay. The second time he allowed me to be the teacher he was wearing trackkies. These would come down quickly but he protested again.
"You shouldn't be allowed to smack me on the bare bum because I'm bigger and older than you!"
The incredible logic of eight-year-olds! He was about an inch taller and two weeks older than me, but I accepted the argument as fair and so we played the game for a few more weeks with him as the teacher and me as his pupil almost every day. Every afternoon we went to his garage and played this game five or six times. His parents and older brother, Jake, were all at work so nobody ever discovered us. On the days that I was the teacher Peter got bored after two spankings and called the game to a halt.
By late august I was getting tired of having my bare bottom smacked every day so I told him I was bored with this game and didn't want to play it any more.
"I have a way of making it more interesting!" he said.
I wasn't convinced but agreed to go to the garage.
"Let's play daddy and son!" he suggested.
I looked at him blankly.
"Pretend I'm your dad and you do something naughty."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Like pissing against the wall over there!"
Bemused I went and stood by the wall. I hissed to make the noise of somebody having a piss.
"Take your willy out!" he ordered, "pretend to do it properly!"
I lowered my waistband and did as he said.
"What are you doing son?" he asked in a voice that was supposed to sound grown up, "your mother and me didn't rear our son to piss against walls in public! Come here!"
In a matter of seconds I was over his knee with my shorts pulled down below my bum. Then suddenly -- WHACK!
"OUCH!" I howled, "What was that?"
Peter smiled and showed me the table-tennis bat that he had just used.
"No!" I protested, "That's too sore!"
"Sissy!" he chided me.
"I'm not a sissy!" I snapped.
"Afraid of a little table tennis bat! Sissy! Sissy! Sissy!" he sang.
I was almost in tears. I hated when anybody jeered me so I said, "I'm not a sissy!"
"Then take your medicine!"
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
When Peter had spanked me twenty times with the bat he made me stand in the corner. He sat behind me and folded his arms admiring his handiwork. After twenty minutes he put me across his knee and gave me six more.
I didn't like this game at all but for the next three days the taunting of "sissy!" was enough to make me agree to play each day. After that I told him that it wasn't a good game because it really hurt and I wanted to play teacher again. But Peter was bored with teacher and wouldn't agree.
"I'll only play if I can be the daddy every second day!" I insisted.
"You can't be the daddy because I'm older!"
"Then I don't want to play any more spanking games!"
"Fine! We won't play them then!"
Years later, when I was a teenager, I very much regretted putting a stop to these games. When I realised that Peter was the fuel for so many fantasies I often thought back to those days in his garage and even still I get horny when I think of them. I would lie in bed at night and remember those innocent days with joy. What if I hadn't stopped them then? Would Peter still be spanking me? Would he be doing more? I hated my innocence; it had stolen the fulfilment of my teenage fantasies!
When the spanking games stopped we played another game called GOTCHA! This game was simply chasing and when you caught the other you grabbed his dick and squeezed it a few times shouting "Gotcha!" whenever I caught Peter I would give him a quick squeeze but when he caught me he would painfully pinch and squeeze my willy several times.
We stopped this game when we were eleven! Peter's parents brought me on holiday with him and his brother Jake. We were in a really remote part of the west of Ireland. One day Peter and I went swimming in a quiet cove. We were horsing about in the water and he pulled my togs off. He ran from the water waving them over his head. I begged him to give them back but he ran up the cliff to where our clothes were teasing me. I knew he wouldn't give them back so nervously I left the water, my hand covering my willy, and climbed up after him. Nobody but the sheep saw me!
"That wasn't funny!" I protested when I arrived.
Peter just laughed. He was wearing a big bath towel around his waist. As I covered myself up he opened the towel and flashed at me. I was shocked -- his little dick was sticking straight out. I looked away.
Peter dropped his towel and started dancing naked on the cliff-side with his horn bobbing obscenely in front of me. I refused to look and closed my eyes.
"Do you want to suck it?" he asked.
I was revolted! "NO!" I screamed.
"Fine! Then don't!"
We dressed and went back to the guesthouse. On the way we talked as if nothing had ever happened.
That was the first time I had ever seen an erection and I haven't seen many since. I was coming to terms with my emerging manhood but was very innocent. I didn't even know where babies came from but I liked girls. In bed at night I would lie with my pillow in my arms imagining that it was Sarah Woods. Sarah was a girl in my class and I liked to imagine that we were married and in bed together. But every time I kissed the pillow my little mate would grow hard and I honestly thought that there was something wrong with me! I became very introverted about my body and thought Sarah wouldn't like me because my dick got hard. That day with Peter on the beach in Ireland told me I wasn't strange, Peter's dick got hard as well!
When we returned to England Peter and I went to different schools. I got a place in the boys' grammar and he was in a mixed comprehensive. But the experience on the beach had got me interested in exploring my dick. At night I would caress it and when it was hard I would rub it -- like any other boy I had discovered masturbation!
As I explored I found it more fun to think about something else when I was doing it. Sarah was my favourite in the beginning but I soon got tired of her. It became more difficult to get excited and I thought I had wasted it; maybe it would never work again! I thought about this for many days and thought about Peter. The image from the beach was clearly imprinted on my mind. His dick was bigger than mine (or at least I thought it was) and he probably didn't have this problem with his one. But as I thought about the image my lad came back to life and stood there, proud as a peacock jutting straight up from my newly hairy nest, begging to be pulled. And I pulled!
Peter quickly replaced Sarah as the main actor in my wet dreams. I began to wish that I had sucked him and seen what that was like! Like the games in the garage I had let my fantasy slip away and I felt stupid for doing so. But I had my hand, my imagination and many good evenings thinking about what might have been with Peter!
From then until the end of school Peter was the main attraction of my life. He infatuated me just as Sarah's cousin Clare who was in his class in school was infatuating him. As Peter developed his interest in his female classmates I knew he would never be mine. The boys in my class fuelled many fantasies but Peter was always guaranteed to get me hard like nobody else could. In my little dream world I was back in the garage playing daddy and son but by now the spanking was followed by me sucking him and him fucking me. I wanted to be his boy, his slave -- in fact I just wanted him to own and control me but I knew this could never be! Every Saturday we went together to the local swimming pool and the sight of his naked butt and perfect smooth cock would refresh my fantasies for another week but I could never admit it to him that he meant so much to me. I was doomed to live my greatest dream in my closet and would never ever consummate it!
So here I stand, nineteen years of age, a closet case drooling over the sight of my best mate's arse and wanking although at the back of my mind that I am unlikely to ever see his bare flesh ever again. Since we started college he has been involved with a swim team and now we never go swimming together!
By now I am undoubtedly queer! I have no fantasies about girls and curse the opportunities I let slip away growing up with my wank-God. There he was, the man of my dreams, lying with his arse inviting me to drool all over his red swimsuit. I really admired the curves of his arse; I would do anything for him to sit on my face with his Speedos still on. My hand was pulling my dick almost out of its socket at the thought of wallowing in his cute, adorable arse. I was getting really close when he stood up, looked up at my window and smiled.
"Shit!" I muttered, "He knows I'm up here watching him!"
My erection subsided. I had never told anybody that I was gay but there were times I said things in front of Peter that might make him suspect that I was. I was really scared that he would find out and afterwards he would hate me. Part of me wanted to tell him, but I was far too scared.
My mobile rang. I picked it up it was Peter's home number.
"Hey Benny how was the exam?"
"Oh hi Peter!" I replied stuffing my dick back inside my trousers, "I was just thinking about you!"
"Really?" he asked, "where are you?"
"I'm just home this minute!" I lied.
"Hey drop by bud and we can take a few rays together and you can tell me about the exams!"
I don't take the sun as I burn to easily but I wasn't going to let the opportunity to sit beside him when he was dressed in a skimpy pair of Speedos slip by.
"Sure mate! I'll be down to you in a minute!"
I changed into a t-shirt and football shorts. I adjusted my still somewhat swollen member and walked down the stairs. I would soon be lying beside my idol and that would fuel a good wank tonight!
Peter opened the door wearing nothing but a smile and those Speedos. I didn't dare look down at his groin. I knew he had a sizeable package there and that there would be a little clump of his pubic hair sticking out above the drawstring.
"Hey Ben could you do me a big favour?" he asked as I walked past him and he closed the door behind me.
"Sure what is it?" I replied cheerily turning back to face him.
I nearly collapsed. He had pulled his swimsuit into the crack of his arse and his delicious melon-shaped globes were jutting back with the dark material disappearing into the crack. Shit! I knew I was getting hard already.
"Would you mind putting some sun cream on my back?" he asked.
Was it my birthday or something? I had the naughty thought that I would love to spread some other type of cream on his back! Yes! I'd love to spread some of my own and then lick it all off!
"No problem mate!"
He handed me the bottle and I poured some on my hands and then rubbed them together. I stood behind him and rubbed the cream into the skin of his square shoulders. I was desperately close to throwing a boner so I knew I'd have to concentrate on something else.
"How's Clare these days?" I asked sure that talking about girls would ease the growing pressure in my groin.
"Gone!" he replied simply.
"What do you mean gone?" I asked.
"We finished on Wednesday -- bitch asked too many questions!"
"You'll be back together by next week I bet!"
"Naw! Here Ben do my lower back as well!"
I started to rub the oily cream into his lower back just at the point he indicated. I imagined that it was different oil that I could be rubbing onto a different part of him but I had to stop thinking like this.
"Naw Benny! I'm giving up on girls they cause too much trouble, cost too much and give you zero freedom!"
"What happened really?" I asked knowing that there was some problem there.
"I asked her for a blowjob and she went berserk with me!" he blurted as he began to laugh.
I laughed. "I knew something must have happened!"
"I think I'll become a queer!" he said, "they never say no!"
I was shocked by this comment. I knew he was only joking but it would be all my dreams come true if he did consider it!
"You'll make a bad queer you would!" I said, "No bloke could ever fancy you!"
"Wrong!" he cried, "our Jake sucked me off a couple of times!"
Now I was definitely shocked. Jake never really bothered to speak to me or even to his brother. He was seven years older than us and I knew nothing about him. Peter had never said anything about his brother being gay and I never asked anything about him. He lived away from home and he just didn't feature in any of my thoughts.
Now the reason I didn't think about Jake was simple. I didn't fancy him at all! Peter was far better looking than his brother; in fact his brother wasn't good-looking at all. Jake was quite tall, almost six foot, but he obviously drank and had a bit of a belly. His hair was beginning to thin on top and he had a lot of body hair. His arms were a mass of black hair and there was an obscene clump of hair always sticking out of the neck of his shirt. I always thought that he looked scruffy and even dirty. Simply put; he wasn't my type!
"Your Jake is a queer?" I asked.
By now I had oiled his back.
"Yep! Here get your shirt off and I'll do you back before we go outside!"
"I'll keep it on because I'll burn if I sit out there!" I replied.
"This stuff is really good!" he said as he poured a dollop on his hand and reached up the back of my shirt and started spreading it on my upper back and shoulders.
As he massaged the lotion into my back I started to spread some of it on my chest and arms. Peter finished off and wiped his hands on a towel and released his swimsuit from his crack with a snap. I took some more of the cream and began to spread it on my legs. I was bent over and as he walked by me he landed a smack SPLAT on my arse!
"Fuck off pervert!" I yelped standing suddenly upright.
He laughed and I followed him out into the garden watching his arse swing and sway as he swaggered out the door. I wondered was he wriggling it a bit because he knew I was into it (I wish!) and he was flirting with me. My cheek stung from the slap. It felt great. I remembered the days in the garage as children and thought -- 'tonight you'll wank yourself to death Benny boy!'
"The lads on the swim team are coming over for a few beers tonight. Care to join us?" he asked as we lay down.
"Where are your folks?"
"They're away in Spain for a fortnight. Left this morning!"
"Yep! For two whole, glorious weeks!"
"I'd love to come!" (What faggot is going to pass up on the chance of spending an evening partying with a bunch of hot young male swimmers?)
We talked about the exams, football and Clare and all sorts of other stupid things that young men talk about. I was afraid of burning so I put my shirt on. Taking that as a cue Peter sat up and began to pull his own clothes on.
We spent the next two hours buying cans of beer and getting the house ready for his friends. There were five of them coming. I knew most of them in passing, they all had great bodies but I only fancied one of them. That was the chap called Damien. Richard, Dwayne, Kevin and Simon were cute, but I never let them star in any of my wank fantasies. Damien was different! Of all of Peter's mates he was the number two for me. There were blokes in my class in school and a few at college that surpassed him, but I liked Damien and often included him in my imaginary scenes with Peter.
When the lads arrived they were all wearing loose knee length shorts and t-shirts. It was a warm, balmy evening and heavier clothes would have been uncomfortable. Each of them carried a bag of cans and Kevin had a porno video with him. We started into the beers and drank quickly and noisily for about an hour. By then we had all drunk at least six beers and were started to get a bit rowdy. Peter stuck the video on and we sat down with our beers to watch it.
It would surprise anybody that I was feigning interest in the video. It was crap! I watched the reactions around the room and was somewhat relieved that the others weren't that excited by it either.
"This is shit!" Peter said walking over to the television to turn it off.
"Leave it on you faggot!" Damien howled.
"Kiss my fucking arse!" Peter slurred dropping his shorts and mooning at his mates behind him.
All hell broke loose at that! Damien and Kevin hopped up from the sofa and tackled Peter onto the ground. They were trying to remove his shorts. I thought this was hilarious. Revenge at last for that day on the beach in Ireland. Peter struggled but the two boys overpowered him and laughed as they eventually managed to get his shorts off his legs completely. I was bursting with desire. Just then as Damien stood holding Peter's shorts over his head Dwayne and Simon joined in and debriefed him! Damien howled. He was drunk and almost fell over but he didn't put up a very credible resistance. I sat on my chair laughing at the spectacle in front of me. I was laughing so much that I didn't see the five of them approach and within a few seconds I was on the floor with my legs in the air and my shorts coming off.
I was embarrassed. I could throw a boner and they would know. But the party was only beginning.
"Let's have a milk race!" Damien shouted.
"Jake's rules!" Kevin added.
I'd never heard about milk races before and if you are of a gentle disposition (like I am) they are rather unsavoury but very strange! It was a bit like these stories you hear from blokes who were in the army; but to this day I do not understand how supposedly straight men could play games like these.
Under Jake's rules the six of us had to put our shorts into a plastic bag. As host Peter put his hand into the bag first and pulled out a pair. They were Damien's. Damien put his hand in to choose his opponent and he drew Simon. The rules were easy enough to understand even if they seemed strange to me. The contestants stood and faced each other. They placed their left hands on their opposite's shoulder and then they wrapped their opponent's shorts around their cocks. They started to wank.
'Good God!' I though to myself, 'I would have enough wank material from this to get to my retirement!'
I was in a mix of being embarrassed and excited by this game. I couldn't see either of their cocks but I could see the shape pistoning into the material of the shorts each of the lads was holding. The object seemed simple enough -- it was a race to see who would come first.
Damien began to laugh a minute or two later -- "nearly there!" he panted. Damien began to jack furiously; he clearly didn't want to lose but he lost! Simon jerked his hips forward and I saw a wet spot grow in the middle of the shorts where his dick was throbbing. Damien stopped immediately and bowed his head towards his opponent.
The boys cheered when Simon showed them the load he had left on Damien's shorts. I joined in. Simon cleaned his dick with Damien's shorts and then wiped them on Damien's hair. I stared wide-eyes in total disbelief. These guys were all straight but they allowed each other wipe their cum in their hair. It's amazing how blokes can do things like this when they're drinking. Of course the alcohol gives them the excuse the next day doesn't it?
As loser Damien chose the next pair of shorts from the bag. He chose Dwayne and the game began again. I wasn't really thinking about the fact that my shorts were also in the bag and that I would soon be wanking in public for the first time. I was concentrated on seeing as much as I could without showing obvious interest that would blow my closet door wide open. Damien won this bout and the next session was between Dwayne and Peter.
I watched this session with huge interest. I couldn't believe my luck! Here was the object of my childhood fantasies having a wank in front of me and my boner was clearly showing in my shorts by now. I took a cushion and placed it on my lap as I watched. Naively I believed that this would hide my interest! But Peter's wicked smile and cocky attitude was just too fucking exciting by far! With my teenage imagination I tried to imagine that I was Dwayne's shorts -- and that made me so horny I almost shot a load into the cushion without even touching my dick.
Dwayne won and I realised that I could be next! But luck wasn't on my side as Peter drew Kevin. I began to hope that Peter would lose again and I had a fifty-fifty chance with him in the next bout. But he won and Kevin drew next. He drew Richard and beat him and as the only remaining contestant I faced Richard in the final bout.
When Peter walked away from his victory over Kevin I watched his bloated dick out of the corner of my eye. I hadn't seen him hard since that day on the beach eight years ago and as he walked off to the bathroom my own rod softened beneath the cushion. By the time I was called to face Richard my dick was as soft as butter on a summer's day.
I lost and soon felt the degradation of having another bloke smear his cum over me. I didn't like it but I didn't know how to make that known.
"So who won?"
"What do you mean who won?" I asked confused. I thought that the game was over.
"Simon took three minutes and ten seconds!" Richard said looking at a piece of paper where the wank times had been recorded.
"Who was slowest?" Peter asked.
"Benny here hasn't come yet so he's over eight minutes already!" Richard answered and all eyes turned to me.
"It's his first time so let him off," Peter said, "he's never done this before and it's not fair. Who was second last?"
"You were!" Richard answered.
Peter changed his tune immediately; "I think I'd better explain to Ben here what he has to do then!"
I looked at him confusedly and wondered what was up. He led me to the kitchen and explained what happened between the winner and the loser. The winner got to drop a load in the loser's mouth and the loser had to swallow it.
"I can't do that!" I blubbed.
"Sure you can kid --you're gay aren't you?"
I froze and blushed. I was very drunk and I was about to cry.
"Relax Ben!" he said as he put a comforting arm around my shoulders and pulled me towards him, "you're still a mate and I don't have a problem with you being queer!"
"I'm not queer!" I protested.
"Don't waste your breath on lies mate, I know you're bent!" he whispered.
I looked at him forlornly.
"The rest of the lads know as well!" he told me.
I was about to burst into tears.
It took a few minutes for me to calm down and agree to take Kevin's dick. Peter led me by the hand back into the room where the others were, but the drink and the wanking had taken its toll on the others. Kevin was sprawled wasted, naked and snoring on the floor, Dwayne was curled up in his t-shirt on the sofa and Richard was watching the video with Simon lurched against him asleep on his shoulder.
"Can I go home?" I asked.
"Naw mate! You can crash in our Jake's room! There's no point leaving now!"
Peter walked me up the stairs to show me where Jake's room was. I knew where it was because I had been in this house so many times. He opened the door and there was the duvet rolled back and Damien sprawled naked across the bed. He looked a sight. His chest was rising in peaceful sleep and his dick, red with friction burns from the nylon, lay across his left thigh. I hadn't even noticed him missing from the group.
"I should have told you that Damien's a faggot too!" Peter said as he ushered me into the room, "and he's into you!" he added as he pulled the door closed behind me. I tried to leave with him, I was scared but Peter was insistent.
When the door closed with a click I looked in horror across at the sleeping swimmer. He was gorgeous okay but I hadn't quite decided if I wanted to have sex for the first time with him. My dream had always been for Peter and he was the one I wanted. Damien played a part in some three-ways I had imagined but I wasn't sure if I wanted to be with him. Being gay doesn't mean you have to sleep with every bloke that just happens to be gay!
I heard him move on the bed and I panicked. I was really scared of this! Drowsily he raised his head and smiled, he patted the bed beside him and asked me if I would like to join him.
What is about people when they are afraid that they will walk towards the danger rather than walk away? I was like a little rabbit caught in headlights and I approached him silently with my knees beneath me ready to buckle. Have you ever felt like a three-yard walk is twenty miles long? That's how I felt just then! Soon enough I was sitting on the edge of the bed in total fear. Damien reached forward and gently guided me backwards so that I was lying beside him on the bed. He turned onto his side and faced me I stared blankly at the ceiling.
"Want to do it?" he asked.
In all my fantasies there had been some erotic lead up to the act. This blunt question -- do you want to do it -- was hardly what I imagined would be the opening line of my first time! I looked across at him. My fear must have been written all over my face.
"I'll be gentle then!"
Damien obviously hadn't considered 'no' as a possible answer. He began to caress my stomach, which I admit it helped me to relax. He kissed my cheeks and then launched himself into a ravenous attack on my neck. I lay there moaning passively as he chewed my neck to pieces. Before I knew it he had mounted me in the missionary position and his big red dick was jabbing at the underside of my balls. It hurt!
It took him a long time before he gave up. He obviously wasn't as experienced as he said he was and we failed to 'do it' as he so romantically put it! A combination of my fear, two sore dicks, a lot of alcohol and no experience meant he never managed to get his dick up inside me.
In hindsight it was a bit of a disappointment but, there would be plenty of other opportunities in the future now that I had met somebody who wanted to 'do it' with me and now that I had met somebody attracted to me I knew that I would have the confidence to present myself to a potential lover in the future! In the lonely years of coming to terms with my sexuality I always thought that I was too ugly or skinny to be interesting to another man. I had no super looks like the models on magazines and most gay men seemed to be really good looking so I thought that nobody would like me and that I would die in a fantasy world. Now I knew that this wasn't true so I curled up beside the impotent Casanova beside me and fell asleep.