Date: Sat, 03 Jan 2004 10:45:51 -0800
From: hick@mail.com
Subject: My so-called sex life

The usual disclaimers apply.  My story is 99.9% true; the names MAY have
been changed to protect the "innocent", and a PERHAPS few embellishments
added to spice things up....  Positive feedback welcomed.

***

I have always known I was "different", but didn't know or understand much
about sex until I hit puberty.  For my 13th birthday I received a copy of
"Boys and Sex" from my dad.  I guess he didn't want to have "the talk" with
me face to face, although I already knew where babies come from.  The book
went into vague detail about masturbation and homosexuality, and when I
read those chapters, I wanted to know more.  That night I tried doing what
the book said on masturbation.  As I lay in my bed stroking my little dick
with my fingers, it felt good.  After awhile it started feeling REALLY
good, and I began feeling really hot all over - then I felt the convulsive
waves of my first orgasm. WOW!  I was hooked for life.  What a sensation -
from that point on I jacked off nearly every day - sometimes 2 or 3 times.
I was one horny kid.

I began to look differently at boys and men.  They were so attractive to
me, with their muscular bodies and masculine smells.  What would I have to
do to try some of this homosexual stuff I had read about?  How would I know
who was interested?  I was still too young to go to bars or bathhouses -
even if I had known about all that.  It would be a few years before I had
my first real experience with another boy, but in the meanwhile, I spilled
alot of cum on my stomach just fantasizing about it.  Unfortunately, due to
my very religious upbringing, I was also feeling alot of misplaced guilt
about my homosexual urges and masturbation.

***

When I was fifteen my family lived in West Germany, as my dad was in the
Army.  I had a friend, Michael, who was a year younger.  He was a nice kid
and friendly to me, though we weren't best buds or anything.  Poor Michael
spoke with a bit of a lisp, and took some crap from bullying kids who
called him a cocksucker, and drew rude pictures of him with a dick in his
mouth.

Just a couple of weeks before Michael's family was to return stateside,
there was a Youth Group sleepover.  Our group met each Friday evening, and
we had alot of fun singing songs, eating snacks, playing games and telling
stories.  It was, I suppose, a typical church youth group, and although
alot of people shared more intimate details of their personal struggles, or
family life, I was way too inhibited to say anything about my own deeper
feelings.  What would people think of a homosexual?  Nothing good, I was
sure.  And a chaplain's son, at that!  No, I would suffer in silence for
many more years before accepting myself as God made me, and expecting
others to do the same.

Michael and I ended up on the floor with our sleeping bags next to each
other.  The lights went out, and the chattering faded off as people fell
asleep, but Michael and I continued to whisper confidences to each other.
It was scary, but exciting.

"Do you ever play with your dick", he asked.

"Yes," I replied sheepishly, "do you"?

"Yeah.  Have you ever felt someone else's dick"?

"No".  I began to like where this was going.  We both slowly and quietly
unzipped our sleeping bags and reached out in the darkness toward each
other.  My heart was beating so fast, and my mouth was dry.  Then I felt
it.  His cock was hard and warm in my hand.  Whoa!  I was finally touching
another guy's dick, and it was awesome!  It felt a little bigger than mine.
Really fat for a 14 year old.  We began to slowly stroke each other, and I
was just floating with pleasure.

After 10 minutes or so of mutual stroking, Michael said, "I can't see your
dick - it's too dark in here".

"Let's go in the bathroom", I suggested.

Quietly we pulled our sweats back up and moved toward the hallway, trying
not to wake anyone.  The bathroom was far enough down the hall that I
figured we would hear anybody who got up and came in our direction, still,
the fear of being discovered was a sickening thrill.  In the bathroom we
both pulled our pants down again and resumed stroking each other.  His dick
looked great.  More than anything I wanted to get down on my knees and take
it into my mouth, but I was too afraid of what he would think.  I had never
given or gotten a blowjob, and wouldn't have known just what to do, but I
just wanted to feel his dick in my mouth.  If I had only had the balls to
do it!  It would be another couple of years before I'd have the chance
again.

After a few minutes of masturbating each other in the bathroom, we decided
to go back to our sleeping bags before anyone noticed the bathroom light.
Reluctantly, I crawled back in, sorry not to be able to see Michael's dick
and that I was too chickenshit to have gotten a taste of it.  We kept
stroking each other, and soon I felt the familiar feeling of orgasm rising.
I shot my wad all over my sleeping bag (that was going to be a mess!) and
unfortunately for Michael, I stop jacking him when I felt the guilt and
regret sink in.  Sorry, Michael!  I was just a dumb kid.

I would have loved to get together again with Michael and make up for not
taking him to completion.  I would have even gone down on him and sucked
down his load, but it was not to be.  I only saw him one more time - at his
going away party - and he avoided me.  What a way to reenforce my negative
feelings about myself and my homosexuality.  I wish I had done things
differently; we could have had a beautiful relationship if we had gotten
with each other sooner, and could have supported each other....

***

Cut to two years later, back in the States - New Jersey, to be precise.  On
a trip to the mall, I had found a copy of the first edition of "The Joy of
Gay Sex" at Waldenbooks, and somehow worked up the courage to buy it.  What
an education THAT was!  My mind was full of things I could hardly wait to
try with a man.  Fucking, sucking, 69ing, analingus.  It all excited me,
and I was bursting to get it on with a live human being.

I had also found a magazine shop which had no qualms about selling gay porn
to a minor, and began collecting "Blueboy", "Torso" and "Stallion"
magazines.  Alone in my room, I must have spilled gallons of cum jerking
off to the hot pictures and stories in those mags.  High school sucked for
a closeted gay teenager, but at least I now had one friend who I could
confide in, and although Allen was 100% straight, and not interested in
fooling around with me, at least he accepted me and valued me as a friend.

Ron was another friend who I THOUGHT was straight.  After all, he had a
beautiful girlfriend.  And he was a jock.  Okay, he was a gymnast and also
a dancer (I was a bit clueless).  We sat next to each other in choir class
and always had fun joking around together and raising hell for the poor
choir director.  How he put up with all of us snotty, mischievous
highschoolers, I'll never know.  There were four of us in the choir who
were good enough singers that we were asked to help out with another
school's choir, which was short on male voices.  We would be going to
Washington, D.C. to sing at the National Cathedral, and it was on this trip
that I would advance to the next stage of my so-called sex life.

Lucky me - I was assigned to share a hotel room with my buddy Ron.  Not
only a room, but a bed.  Sure, there was another bed with the two other
guys in the same room, but I was already feeling excited.  As it happened,
the other two guys from our school wanted to hang out with some of the
girls from the other school, who they had gotten to know on the bus ride.
Ron and I were left alone in the room, in the bed, TOGETHER.  Oh happy day!
I may have been young and naive, but I was already learning to be a bit
crafty & devious.

"Ron, how about a backrub?"

"Sure".  Yes!  I would get my hands on Ron's beautiful body.  I had admired
his gorgeous ass for years, and he usually wore tight clothing that
accentuated his gymnast's physique.  He got on his stomach on the bed, and
I straddled his thighs.  Slowly and sensuously I massaged his coppery skin
(his family was from Central America), kneading his fabulously muscular
shoulders and back.  He groaned with pleasure at my touch - I must have
been doing something right, although I was an inexperienced masseur.  I
moved from his back to his thighs, skipping over that "danger zone" of his
tight briefs.  Rubbing, stroking, kneading his thighs and calves, I moved
up and down his body, generating heat and pleasure, and lowering both of
our inhibitions.  Boldly, I began rubbing his bubble butt through his
briefs, then slipped my hands inside them.

No objection.  Yes!  Instead, he pushed his butt up at me, wanting more.
"Turn over, so I can do your front", I told him.  Ah, his chest and abs
were magnificent, built up by years of practice on the rings and pommel
horse.  And what a nice bulge he was presenting in the front of his briefs.
I continued the massage on his shoulders, pecs and arms, although what I
wanted to do was rip his briefs off and suck his throbbing cock.  But a
rubdown was what I offered, and a rubdown is what Ron would get.

The erotic tension in the room was almost too much.  We were both breathing
hard, and had wet spots on the front of our underwear.  Finally, I could
stand it no longer and lowered his briefs, exposing his erection.  Without
a word I did what I had dreamed of doing for years: took a hard cock in my
mouth and began sucking.  My very first blowjob - and I must be a natural
born cocksucker, because Ron's groans became louder, and he'd throw in a
few whimpers, too.  I still thought this was one-sided, and didn't imagine
my "straight" friend would want to reciprocate, but after 10 or 20 minutes
of sucking, he flipped me over into the 69 position, pulled down MY briefs
and began giving me a blowjob of my own.

What a view from down under, let me tell you.  His brown furry balls were
dangling in my face, his cock was in my throat, and I had two hands full of
his tight, beautiful ass.  I couldn't imagine it getting any better than
this.  Then I got to taste his load of jism.  Yum!  Well, I guess my karma
from my experience with Michael caught up with me, because this time I
didn't get my nut, and had to go to sleep unsatisfied when Ron suddenly had
a post-orgasmic guilty conscience.  Ain't payback a bitch?  Well, I realize
now I wasn't the only conflicted gay highschooler whose religious
upbringing caused a bit of trauma in the sexuality department.

Ron and I never got together again sexually, although we remained friends.
For the rest of high school, it was just me and my hands.  Oh well.  But
when I got to college - that's a different story entirely!

***

To be continued....