Date: Fri, 3 Jul 2009 20:26:15 +0000 (GMT)
From: uccleman@yahoo.co.uk
Subject: Do You Remember '68? Chpt. 1

This is a story that involves sex between males.  If such a story is
offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue,
go and surf elsewhere.

This is a work of fiction.

The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any
form without the specific written permission of the author.  It is assigned
to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it
may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written
permission of the author.


If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on
uccleman@yahoo.co.uk  I  aim to reply to all messages.

Do You Remember '68?       Chpt. 1

If you remember the sixties you didn't live through them, they say.  I
remember them too well. 1968, the year of the Prague spring, the struggle
against the Vietnam war, Martin Luther King assassinated, the Beatles start
Apple, Paris ...., you can read about it all. Love was in the air, freedom;
the previous year the Beatles had released "All you need is Love" that
seemed to sum up the attitude for that time. But I remember it too well.

                I was 18, last year of an all boys' (Grammar) school,
testosterone levels were always high or super high. We somehow managed to
work as we had so much energy but for most guys girls were the centre of
most conversations, most thoughts. They were at the centre of my
conversation too, but not my thoughts. I joined in, you had too. We got the
details of every guy's contact with a member of the opposite sex. We never
knew what was true, what was invented. Though I was sure that some guys
were not exaggerating; I wanted to be part of that. We all carried a rubber
in our pockets, the hidden idea being that we had used them and we just
needed to be ready. I did take girls out but somehow it never really
happened. We kissed, we groped a bit but I never really had the drive to
push it further. But of course if the others knew that I had dated a girl,
and I always made sure they did, I could make the same exaggerated claims.
So I was one of the crowd, pretty good at maths and sciences so a useful
guy to have around as well. But inside I knew I didn't fit in. I was so
lonely.

                I'm not sure when the term gay came to be used widely but
at eighteen I don't think I knew it. I was vaguely aware of homosexuals, we
used to make fun of certain teachers, but I wasn't like that was I? I was
normal the other guys treated me as normal, yet inside!!! If I saw
something vaguely pornographic (this was long before the Internet) it was
always the man who interested me. In the showers after games the talk would
always be of girls so the odd boner was a laugh but far from unusual but it
was not the conversation that turned me on, it was the sight of those
muscular bodies, hair on chest and legs and of course those cocks, openly
on display. All sizes, shapes there were, but mostly uncut. I would go home
with those images in my mind and wank myself into oblivion.

                Homosexual acts had been legalized the previous year, but
that was for the over 21's. Though for me that was hardly relevant; I
didn't see myself like that. I left school but started work on a
professional career rather than go to college; again working with a group
of guys between 18 and 25. This time the conversations were more real.
These guys did have real experience. This was trickier. I took to drinking.
Just beer, could always have a good time and of course if I didn't make it
with the girls I could blame what I had drunk. I did continue to date
girls; I even had a couple of fucks with the girls who would let anyone.
They were physically satisfying, but it could have been a wank really, it
did make me feel better with the guys.

                The sixties turned into the seventies and nothing resolved
itself for me. I had learned a little more about gays, but that was all. I
was confused and hugely frustrated. I changed direction by going to
college. I had just turned 21 when I arrived for my first day. I settled in
to my shared room with a guy called Peter,

"Not much privacy" I thought.

We got on very well, but he was obviously as straight as they come. He had
a girlfriend in a nearby college that was why he had chosen this place. He
was obviously very satisfied with that relationship. After a few days we
were able to talk quite freely, I have always been a good listener. In fact
he talked freely, I only up to a point. He didn't brag about what he and
his girlfriend did it was just so natural the way he talked of his full
relationship with her. As he often had a night away I had time to fantasize
and give myself some relief for my aching cock. Pete had also said that I
was welcome to use the room when he wasn't there. It was strictly against
the rules to have someone stay the night, particularly a girl, which of
course was what he thought I would want. I didn't really think I would need
to but appreciated his friendship.

                One Friday he was to be away for the weekend so I was
alone. I took up my escape route from loneliness and went to the bar. It
was that about 9pm that I got there. The TV was on so I watched that and
had a drink. On a student income all drinks lasted a long time. Going to
buy my second I saw a guy I knew vaguely from one of my seminar groups on
psychology of Education. He was sitting alone and looked a bit like I felt.

"Hi there, Vince," I said. "Mind if I join you?"

He made room for me and I sat down. We started to talk, and as we talked I
started to think that he was quite a nice guy. He was about my height, 5ft
10in but quite slim, blond hair which was quite long. As we talked I
noticed more about him, and the more I noticed the more I liked. We talked
about music, our course but not about girls. I made some comment about a
girl in the bar and he made a kind of non committal reply. Perhaps you
don't believe me; here I was at the age of 21 for the first time getting
interested in a guy. Yes I had come to the realisation that I was attracted
to men, to dicks, to male bodies, but always in general. I could throw a
boner at the sight of virtually any cock. But here I was getting interested
in this guy for his own sake. Yes I was also interested in his cock; I made
some casual glances down below his belt but saw no indication of anything.
The more we talked the more I felt something between us. I realised as we
were talking that Vince had started drinking long before I had, and as well
as casual conversation he started to open up. He spoke of his loneliness
and his appreciation of being able to spend time with me. I don't know how
I did it but I started to ask more probing questions and I discovered that
he hadn't really had any girlfriends. I think if he had been more sober he
would not have been so open. I wanted to ask him more questions about his
sexual feelings but I didn't dare, I didn't even know how to phrase the
questions. So the evening went on. I so wanted to spend more time with this
guy, I thought he was like me, I thought he was going through the same
torment that I was, but I just didn't know how to move things along.

This was the UK in 1971 and bars stopped serving drinks at 11pm. So there
we were leaving the bar some 20 minutes later. As we left Vince realised
that he'd had a bit too much to drink, he lived off campus and had come in
his dad's car. So I said,

"Look Vince my roommate's away for the weekend, come back for a coffee and
sober up a bit or you could even stay over".

What made me go that far I don't know; perhaps the drink had made me bolder
or was it that healthy sexual drive that I had not found for women?
Whatever it was Vince found a phone to ring home to say he was staying over
with a mate and we went to my room.

I made the coffee, and we continued to talk. I just couldn't move the
subject matter on; Vince too became ill at ease.

"Have I blown it?" I asked myself.

Then Vince said that he was feeling ill, he went to the bathroom, came back
and said that he needed to sleep, he lay down on my bed and was off in an
instant.  He was fully clothed,

"What should I do?" I thought,

So I thought that I had better take his shoes off. This I did.

"Further?" I asked myself "What was my motive."

 I was now pretty keen to see what was under those jeans of his. He then
seemed to come to a little.

"Hey man you'd better get undressed before you pass out again", I said.

"Can you help me mate" he replied.

"Sure", I responded as casually as I could.

So I helped him off with everything except a pair of tight underwear. He
lay back again and went to sleep. By this time I was totally confused about
what to do. I undressed myself, again down to my underwear. I sat there; I
was by then too aroused to think of sleep. There was this guy just a few
feet from me, slightly tanned swimmer's body with only a small piece of
fabric separating my eyes from what I wanted to see and touch and .... I
wasn't sure what else.

I started to rub myself having become very hard during the last few
minutes. I took my cock into my hand and slowly moved it, rubbing the
shaft. I pulled my foreskin over the head and then slowly pulled back down
so the cockhead was like a polished piece of wood with a trail of pre cum
flowing down. I continued this slow wanking motion imagining that it was
Vince doing it to me and that it was his cock that I had in my hand.

                I had never heard of edging then, but that's what I did,
slowly wanking for I don't know how long, mesmerised by this magnificent
body in front of me, wanting to see it in its full glory but too scared to
act, I didn't want to take advantage of him. I was also scared that it was
simply my imagination that was working overtime. As I took in this body
what I didn't do was look at his face. He moved slightly, I stopped ready
to cover myself up, but Vince moved his hand down to his crotch. I caught
my breath,

"What's going to happen now?" I asked myself.

He started to touch himself and I could see the outline of his cock get
more defined; I thought he was dreaming. I copied his motions then he
coughed slightly. I looked up suddenly, his eyes were open. I moved quickly
to cover up, trying to hide what I had been doing. But he was smiling, not
laughing, not angry, not shocked, just smiling.

"How long you been doing that?" he asked me,

"Since you went to sleep" I confessed.

"And are you doing it because you're looking at me?" he asked.

"Yes", I whispered and then repeated it more clearly, "Yes".

In one bound he was out of the bed in front of me, I stood up and our lips
met. Gently at first then more insistently; our first kiss. The first real
kiss of my adult life, expressing what I really felt rather than what I
thought I ought to feel. Our mouths opened and our tongues began to explore
each other's mouth. We held each other tightly; I could feel his cock
pushing eagerly against mine. We started to grind our hips together. The
sensations going through my body were unlike anything I had experienced
before. Vince began to explore my body with his hands; he rubbed my cock,
and for the first time pushed down my pants and put his hands around my
throbbing member. I felt my knees weaken. Then I pushed my hands into his
pants, around his ass cheeks gently massaging them for a moment, but I
needed to get hold of my prize, that which had been the object of my
interest, fascination and desire for so many years. But this time it was
not just any cock that drew me, but this cock, on this guy who was turning
my world upside down. I pushed down his pants and felt his magnificent
pole. Straight, rigid, and iron hard it was.

We lay down on the bed holding each other's cocks in our hands. We started
to wank each other, then I was fucking his hand, he did the same to me.
Somehow we maintained a rhythm, faster and faster we went. I wanted to cum,
I needed to cum, I was desperate to cum, and I wanted it to be this guy who
brought me to my climax. It didn't last very long until we both exploded
within moments of each other.

                We lay there, cum everywhere, and fell asleep in each
other's arms.