Tuesday, 26 May 2009

Why Cell Phones Should Come With A Breathalyzer Function.


My friends and I were out celebrating one night, and the local gay bar we were in had a buy one get one free promotion on all drinks. We all got very drunk that night, and as I lay in bed at 3 in the morning I thought it would be a good idea to send Mr Silver a text message. Sending an ex a text message when you're drunk is a bad idea.

A very bad idea. I still had his number in my phone and sent him a message saying I hoped he was okay, that I had often thought about him and that I missed him. The message must have woke him up, because he sent one back immediately, saying it was good to hear from me again. He wanted to meet up.

I sent the text when I was drunk, so I had an excuse. When we met a week later, I was stone cold sober. I had planned for us to just talk. We met after work, and like old times he picked me up and drove me to his place.

We sat on his couch and talked. He told me that he was surprised to hear from me again. His company had sent him to India for six months, and he had only recently got back. He said that he had wondered into my workplace in the hopes of seeing me, but I had disappeared. I told him I was in the same place but had moved departments Of course talk went to the last time we saw each other, and how hurt he was that I had blanked him. I apologised and tried to explain the circumstances, that I had lost someone close to me and it had screwed up my head, but he dismissed my reasons and was more concerned with his own feelings. I realised that he hadn't changed, that my loss was a secondary concern to his bruised ego.

He wanted sex, it was the reason he invited me over, and I don't no how but ended up in his bed. He wanted me to fuck him, and I did. He lay on his back as I slid my sheathed cock into his ass and slowly pumped away. I think he wanted it to be like before, when I used to fuck him senseless whilst wearing my leather jacket, but that was in the past. I fucked him half-heartedly, as if it was something on my list of chores for that night. After about 10 minutes I pulled out, and removed the condom with a snap, which signalled the end of that particular activity.

After having sex he showed me pictures of his time away, describing the details of each picture taken. He then showed me one of him in bed with one arm around a younger guy. There he was with a younger version of me, telling me how nice this guy was. In showing me the picture it was like he wanted me to know that he was still desirable to young men, he could get anyone he wanted and I was nothing special. If that move was supposed to make me jealous, it didn't work. Instead I realised all his actions came from a place of insecurity. His fears of loosing his virility and growing old alone.

The only weapon I had at my disposal was sex, and I used it. We were on his bed, still naked, and I decided to pleasure him with my oral talents, showing him how much I had learned. What he didn't know was that I had two other lovers in the time we were apart, but I kept that quiet.

I sucked on his cock and licked his balls, running my tongue over them then pushing his legs further apart and probing deeper, to his perineum, then to his hole. I looked directly into his eyes as my tongue swiped across his puckered sphincter. His eyes widened in surprise and his breath quickened. This was the first time I ever rimmed him. In that moment I knew I had him. He expected more, expected my tongue to probe deeper, to continue rimming him. Or for me to go back to licking his balls and sucking on his cock.

But I didn't. I just stopped what I was doing. That would be the last moment of pleasure he would ever receive from me. I sat up and reached out with my hand to pick up my watch from where I left it on his nightstand. I put it on and got off the bed, saying it was late and I had to get home. I went into the bathroom and washed my cock and balls in the sink and rinsed my mouth out with mouthwash before returning to the bedroom to dress quickly.

He was too stunned to say anything, instead dressing and then dropping me back into the city. He tried making conversation on the ride home, trying to pin down another time for us to meet, but my answers were vague and noncommittal. He thought he had me back, but I knew it would be the last time I would see him. We were done.

I didn't have to worry about him popping into my workplace to see me whenever he wanted as I had taken a job with another company. Although, part of me (a very wicked part) wonders how many times he visited my former workplace in the hopes of seeing me.

Sunday, 24 May 2009

A Change In The Relationship

During our 3 years together, there were periods where Mr Silver and I spent months apart. Within three months of meeting him, he went away to Australia for nine weeks. We kept in touch via text messages, and resumed where we left off when he returned.

As he was older, it is easy to think Mr Silver played the part of my Sugar Daddy, and yes there were gifts. But if you think the gift giving was all one way you'd be wrong. I gave as good as I got. Strangely whenever I presented him with a gift, it put me in mind of all those time I would show my schoolwork to the headmaster.

At my school, when you did outstanding work it would be appraised by the headmaster, who would then award you with a merit mark. That's what it reminded me of, the same mixed feeling of pride, nervousness and anticipation as I waited for my gift to be assessed. Standing there, gift in hand, I felt like a child again. I think that was one of the first times I felt there was an imbalance in our relationship.

Over time, the nature of our relationship changed. I felt that I was no longer an equal partner in our little sexual adventure, and that I was there merely to service him. He always came when we had sex, and the sex we had was more geared to him getting off. Instead of being his equal, I felt like a trophy, something he could show off to his friends to prove he was still virile.

One major turning point came when wanted to fuck me. I was open to trying everything, so we did try, on several occasions. He would press his sheathed cock head against the entrance of my lubed virgin hole, but it would clamp shut. Even sniffing poppers had no effect, the slight dizzy feeling I got when I took a hit would disappear as soon as he attempted to enter me.

I had trouble getting a lubed finger up into my ass, so an erect cock had no chance. He was always too impatient to spend time fingering me, opening me up to receive his cock. At times he would press very hard against the small of my back when trying to enter me, which caused me as much discomfort as him trying to push himself into me. He just wanted to get in there, and was frustrated when it didn't happen. Once, after attempting to enter me he gave up, angrily saying he'd wasted another condom trying to fuck me. We broke up for quite a while after that.

Looking back, the use of poppers may have had something to do with it. I noticed that when he sniffed them he became another person, his sexual gratification became top priority. He wasn't the man I had trusted to explore my sexuality with when poppers were involved. I was just a hole to be used, and it made me feel cheap.

We did get back together again, after quite a lot of talking and with promises that he would try to take my feelings into account. He did change for a while, but got it into his head that I should move in with him. I didn't want to, I liked things the way they were and didn't feel I was ready to take that step.

In the back of my mind I knew that if I moved in with him I would loose myself. Moving in with him meant moving away from the city. I would be living in his house, socialising with his circle of friends. He would dictate what we did, where we went, and how my time would be spent. I did not want this. I valued my independence. I loved my job and my friends, and was sure I would have to give them up if I moved in with him. I did not want to be a kept man. We fought about this, and ended up breaking up again.

Months passed and in the meantime I changed jobs. It was at my new job that I fell head over heels in love with someone I worked with. This is a story I will return too, after I have concluded recounting my relationship with Mr Silver.

My new job meant I dealt with the public on a day to day basis. One day, Mr Silver walked into where I worked, and spent time, watching me from a distance. I worked in a public place so I couldn't exactly say anything. Later that day he sent me a text, saying he was surprised when he saw me, and how sexy I looked in my suit. He wanted to meet up again, but I wasn't sure. We ended up meeting at his house, and I ended up in his bed. On the ride home I told him about the guy I was in love with, and he said he was happy for me.

Mr Silver would come into my workplace on occasion, to watch me from afar. However, the next time we crossed paths at work, it didn't go as he expected. Instead of greeting him with a warm smile, my expression was less than friendly. Someone very close to me had passed away and I was caught in a tide of misery. I couldn't afford to take time off and had no choice but to work, but everyone around me could see my heart wasn't in it.

When Mr Silver walked passed me, interacting with him was the last thing I needed. I could not deal with him top of everything else, and I guess the look I gave him warned him away from talking to me. That was the last time I saw him in over a year.

Friday, 22 May 2009

Bound And Blindfolded

When I mentioned that I wanted to try bondage, Mr Silver indulged me. His spare bedroom had a metal bed frame with horizontal bars on the headboard. I lay on the bed in nothing but a leather pouch (one of his) as he bound my wrists and ankles to the frame of the bed, a blindfold covering my eyes. I tested the strength of the knots. In my mind, it was my duty to attempt to escape the bindings. But it was no use, they held tight.

Mr Silver spent time kissing my body, licking and lightly biting my nipples, sucking my toes, teasing my hard cock through the open fly of the pouch. I gasped and moaned, and struggled against the ties. He lubed up his hand and jerked me off, trying to make me cum, but it didn't happen.

I remember he got off the bed and left the room. The seconds stretched out like days as I waited for him to return, and being tied up I couldn't even play with my aching cock to pass the time. He was only gone for 30 seconds, to go into his bedroom next door to retrieve something.

I felt the mattress give as he got back on the bed, heard the opening of a screw cap bottle and caught the faint whiff of something in the air, something synthetic, with a similarity to pear drops. Poppers.

He had bought them specially for that day, in anticipation of our bondage session. He asked if I wanted to try it. I said yes (this being the first time I had ever tried the stuff) and he held the bottle under my nose, pressed a finger to my nose to shut one of my nostrils and told me to take a deep breath. I did, and was transported instantly into orbit. This was the time when you could buy the proper stuff, the kind that made your head swoon when you sniffed. My face felt flushed and I could hear my heartbeat in my head, echoing, like I was hearing it from a distance.

Mr Silver took a hit and then resumed feasting on my body. It felt as if I was slightly out of my body, experiencing every sensation, but differently to how it had been before. I no longer struggled against the bindings. Instead I rode the wave of sensation until the effects of the poppers wore off and I returned to earth.

He untied me, and we kissed. I sucked his cock and licked his balls, sucking one then the other into my mouth. We ended up with him sitting cross legged on the bed, and me sitting on his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist. I had both of our cocks in one lubed hand, jacking them slowly as he gave me, and then himself, another hit of poppers.

Back in orbit, with the slow echoing sound of my heartbeat filling my ears, we kissed. It felt as if the wold had melted away and only the two of us existed in that moment in time. I jacked us off and he came, shooting onto his abdomen. I let go of his spent cock and grasped mine firmly, increasing the speed of my hand while still kissing him. The poppers had the desired effect, and I added my semen to the load on his stomach, one of the handful of times I achieved an orgasm in the entire time I was with him.

Being tied up was an interesting experience, but I realised that I preferred the more active role.

Wednesday, 20 May 2009

Sexual Education With Mr Silver

Whenever I met Mr Silver, it was always at his house. We would arrange to meet on my days off, since he worked from home most days. He would pick me up, drive me to his place, we would have sex in the morning, have a bite to eat, have sex again in the afternoon, shower, and he would drop me back in the city.

Sounds good, and on the surface it was. But there was a problem, I couldn't cum when I had sex with him. I have mentioned before how when I had sex with a guy, I had to really concentrate to reach orgasm. That problem continued when I was with Mr Silver. I didn't mind though. I could easily get off when I returned home, when I was on my own, I could replay the sex we had that day in my mind and reach a ball busting orgasm.

I had sex with Mr Silver to feel the weight of another body on mine, to kiss his lips, get my mouth around his cock, to suck on his balls, and to have those things done to me, even though my erogenous zones were still extra sensitive. I would smile and laugh with glee as he explored my body with his mouth. I was like an eager puppy and my tail was always wagging.

He certainly enjoyed my body. Loved the size and feel of my cock, which always seemed to be in a state of permanent arousal. At first, the fact that I couldn't cum bothered him. I told him that not ejaculating didn't upset me, I loved the sex we had together, and loved exploring my sexuality with him. In contrast, every time we met up for sex, he came.

Over our time together we indulged in many forms of sex. He was the first guy to rim me. The feeling of being rimmed was intense. Pure pleasure overload. I would squirm and gasp and hope it would never stop.

He was the first man I fucked. Sticking my cock up his ass was another odd sensation when I first attempted it. We were always safe, so I guess wearing a condom was part of it. He wasn't the tightest down there, but once I got used to the sensation, it felt good. Doggy style was a favourite of mine, and still is.

He had a bit of a leather fetish. He liked me to fuck him while I wore my leather jacket, loved it when I hadn't shaved in a few days, as he had this fantasy of being roughly fucked by a hoodlum, forced to take a cock up his ass, a fantasy I obliged.

Once I gave him a blowjob as he drove his car. We were on route to his house, driving down a quiet country lane. Often when he drove, I would sit with my legs spread wide, and his hand would wonder over my groin. He loved looking over to see my erection straining against my jeans, and at times my hands would fondle his groin too.

On this occasion, I had unzipped his fly, and he was going commando so his cock head poked out of the fly of his trousers. There were no other cars around, so I hooked my seatbelt around the hand rest of my seat, leaned over and gave him head. I know, totally stupid as we were in a moving car, being a horny youth is my only defence.

He loved it when I would give him a prostate massage. The first time was a surprise for him. I brought a medical latex glove from home, and when we were naked on his bed I reached over into my backpack, put on the glove and presented my sheathed fingers to him. He wondered what I was up too, and I soon showed him. I lubed up my fingers and put my middle finger up to his hole. I applied gentle pressure and my finger slipped in easily. I finger fucked his hole for the best part of an hour, time and again rubbing up against his prostate, edging him until he shot a torrent of cum. After that he made sure there were fresh latex gloves in the drawer where he kept his lube, condoms and poppers.

We had sex in most rooms of his house, I would give him blowjobs on his couch, and once on the stairs. We had shower sex, and once after sharing a bath together I fucked him in the tub. One of our most memorable encounters was when we tried bondage.

Monday, 18 May 2009

The May To December Encounter

This is how I met Mr Silver.

There was a gap of four months between loosing my virginity to Guy #1 and having sex again. By that time Guy #1 and I were no longer in contact, which was mostly my doing. Guy #1, was bisexual, married, and had a kid. By his own admission, his wife had no idea of his extra-marital activities, and there were many of those. Guy #1 was a player.

In contrast, I wanted a relationship. Something I wanted for a long time, ever since experiencing the first pangs of love whilst in university. Guy #1 couldn't give me that, so I had to look elsewhere.

When I first met Mr Silver on the gay chatline, he told me he was in his early 40's. It was only later in the relationship that I discovered he had knocked 10 years off his age, putting him in his 50's and making him the same age as my father. The age difference didn't bother me, rather the fact he lied and kept up the pretence for so long. I felt like a fool for believing him so readily.

We met when I was 23, and still a novice when it came to men. After trading text messages for a while we had agreed to meet up. The venue was outside a theatre, located near the centre of the city. He had parked near the entrance. As I walked towards the theatre, my cell phone rang. He had called to see if I was the guy walking towards his car. I said yes and he flashed his lights to indicate which vehicle was his. I rang off, walked over to his car, opened the door and got inside.

He was handsome, with silver hair cut short and spikey, hence the name Mr Silver. He had a few laughter lines around his eyes and mouth when he smiled. We said hi, talked for a while, and he asked if I wanted to go to his place for a "coffee". I suggested this first meeting to see if we liked each other, so I thought "coffee" would involve a caffeinated beverage of some kind. Hey, I did say I was a novice when it came to these things. I buckled up and off we drove.

He lived out of the city in a small town. The journey took around 40 minutes. As we drove there, the old spectre of doubt popped up in the back of my mind. I'm in a car with a total stranger, driving to an unknown location and nobody knows where I am. I know, I know, things could have gone so badly wrong. I could have ended up injured, or worse, but there is always risk in meeting someone new.

We arrived at his house, located on the main through road leading into the centre of the town. In we went through the side door of the house into his kitchen, and he asked if I wanted anything to drink. I asked for water and he poured out two glasses from a jug in the fridge.

We sat in his lounge and talked. He told me a little about himself. He was single since his partner died and was now looking to get back out there. I reciprocated with some information about myself, how I was single, that I had recently had sex with a man for the first time and wanted to explore my sexuality further.

He seemed kind and friendly, joking with me and making me feel at ease. I noticed he was staring at me intently while we talked, and he eventually asked if he was allowed to kiss me. I nodded and we kissed. He was a good kisser, and after 10 minutes of lip locking I whispered "Let's go upstairs".

I hadn't planned on this happening, certainly not to sex with a guy within two hours of meeting him, but I thought what the hell, just go with the flow and if the sex was bad I would not have to see him again. He lead me upstairs to his bedroom.

We kissed, only interrupting our make out session to shed clothes. He took his cue from me, and because I kept my underwear on, so did he. We fell onto his bed, and continued to kiss each other. Age had filled out his body a little, but he was toned (later he confessed to hiring a personal trainer to help him get fit). I enjoyed his body, and he mine. When we removed our underwear, he marveled at my hard young 7 inch cock. His was smaller, around 5 inches, but I found it was the perfect size for sucking, and suck it I did. I relished the feeling of having a cock in my mouth again. We traded blowjobs in between bouts of kissing, our hands feeling each other all the while.

We finished with him on his back and me straddling his stomach, he jerked his cock as I jerked mine. He shot his load onto my hairy butt cheek. Again I had to concentrate to reach orgasm, eventually shooting my load, the majority of which splattered onto his headboard which was three feet away. A feat he was very impressed with.

He let me take a shower to get his cum off me, and after we dressed he took me back into the city. We agreed to text each other, and we did, arranging to meet again. Meeting up with Mr Silver became a regular thing, and my sexual horizons were broadened.

Saturday, 16 May 2009

The Difficult Second Relationship

I'm finding it hard to write about my second sexual relationship. The difficulty lies in trying to separate the sex we had from all the crap that went on between myself and Mr Silver. By that I mean it's easy to describe the sexual acts I performed (and enjoyed) when we were a couple, but there was also a shift in the relationship as time went on that eventually broke us apart and taints our time together.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and looking back I would have done things differently, but I was young, naive and horny. I didn't see things changing till they were too late. I took things at face value and believed everything he said.

But to say it was all his fault would also be naive. I changed too. It was a combination of growing up and events occurring in my life at the time. I was no longer a wide-eyed 23 year old, practically new to sex, ready to explore and experiment. Optimism had been replaced by something darker.

The relationship lasted for three years, but we didn't spend every day of those three years together. There were times when we spent months apart, breaking up then getting back together then breaking up again. I even fell head over heels in love with someone else during one of our break ups, but that new relationship never got off the ground.

An alcohol induced text message brought him back into my life, and I found myself back in the crap that caused our previous break ups. The relationship with Mr Silver ended soon after.

Friday, 8 May 2009

The First Taste

I sat in the middle of the couch, nervous as hell. It must have shown on my face, as Guy #1 told me to relax and to move closer to him. Without realising it, I had kept a gap between us earlier when I sat down next to him. I scooched over a little.

We were sitting in the family room his house. It was a little weird to think that earlier that day his family were here with him, getting ready for a day at work and school, and now we were here, about to have sex, and they would have no idea.

He stared at me as he chatted, one arm draped over the headrest of his couch. He wanted me, the lust evident in his eyes. He asked if he could kiss me, and I nodded. His arm slid down off the head of the couch, pulled me closer to him and our lips met.

We kissed, slowly at first, but the pace soon picked up as our passion increased. His tongue found its way into my mouth, and my tongue flicked around his. We kissed for ten minutes, and broke apart, hot and breathless. He asked If I enjoyed it, and yes I did, very much. The throbbing member in my pants was testament to that.

I pulled off my t-shirt, we started kissing again. His hands wondered over my naked chest as my fingers felt his still clothed torso. My skin tingled at his touch. We pulled apart again for him to remove his t-shirt, and I was presented with his smooth muscular chest.

Not gym toned muscular, but the kind developed from playing sports, predominantly football. My left hand reached out and ran along the taut skin of his abdomen. I could feel the ridges of his abs under the skin. I leaned back in and moved my mouth down and kissed his pecs and licked his nipples, just as I had fantasised. I had finally got my hands on a man and I wanted to take advantage of every opportunity.

I slid off the couch onto the floor.I was on my knees between his legs. It was the perfect position to be in for what I had in mind. I wanted cock, and one was practically within reach. I asked if I could see his dick. He lifted his ass off the couch so he could push down his track pants and underwear in one movement, then sat back down.

There it was, the prize I had waited a lifetime for. Resting between two muscular and lightly hairy legs, surrounded by a trimmed bush, was his cock. I wrapped my left hand around it and slid the foreskin back and forth, slowly exposing and then covering the head. My grip became slightly firmer as I jerked him off. A drop of precum appeared on the slit, my signal to take the next step. I leaned in as I stuck out my tongue, using the tip to lick at the clear drop in front of me. I savoured the taste, mentally comparing it to the flavour my own precum. I then put my lips around the cock head, careful to cover my teeth as I did so, and started gently sucking him, my hands resting on those muscular thighs.

That was it. The first taste, and I was addicted. I sucked more, taking him further into my mouth. His groans of pleasure indicated I was doing something right, and his cock grew to it's full 7 inches in my mouth. I admired its length and thickness as I licked the shaft and head, trying to emulate the actions I had seen in the gay porn film I had recently purchased. I ran my tongue down over his scrotum, licking at this balls and savouring the flavour. All traces of nervousness had disappeared, replaced by lust and horniness.

My cock was hard, throbbing and leaking precum in my underwear, and I was still in my jeans. I pulled away from his crotch, stood up, unbuckled my belt and quickly removed my jeans and underwear in record time. I tossed over to a chair, abandoning them on top of my discarded t-shirt and next to my sneakers and backpack. I stood there, hard and naked, in front of him. The head of my cock slick with precum. He slipped off the trackpants and underpants from around his ankles and then stood up.

I took his place on the couch and he took my previous position on the floor. He sucked my cock into his mouth and began to give me a blow job. The sensation was intense. My cock had only ever known the feeling of my hand, so this was new territory. I put one hand on each side of his shaved head, not to stop him or force him down onto my erection, but to lightly hold his head as he blew me.

After a while I pulled him off my cock and switched positions so I was between his legs again. Let's just say I had found out something about myself that day. I was a born cocksucker. The thing missing from my life had been placed between my lips. Sucking on his cock felt right, and I was in heaven as I blew him, licking his cock and balls with ecstatic glee.

When I shifted position so I was on my back on the floor with my legs up on the couch, he looked at me with a puzzling expression on his face, wondering what I was doing. It took a moment for him to realise what I wanted. 69.

He lowered himself onto me, one leg each side of my head. My mouth on his member as his mouth sucked on my cock. It was the perfect position, sucking on his prick took my attention away from the intense feelings of having my cock sucked, and I could enjoy the sensations of having my cock sucked while sucking on one myself.

My hands moved up and down his thighs as we blew each other. In this position I had a good view of his asshole, perfect and puckered, above me. I had the urge to finger it, but didn't want to rock the boat by doing something he may feel uncomfortable with, so I left it alone. I had lube and condoms in my backpack, just in case, but they were not used.

As he increased the thrusting motion of his hips, more of his cock disappeared down my throat. Only once did he bottom out, his full length pushed into my mouth and I gagged around his cock. Tears streamed from my eyes, but he pulled back a little, sensing my panic, and I kept right on sucking him.

He had to be at work later that day, so we didn't have long left. He got up, went out of the room and returned with a large bath towel. By the time he came back, I was sitting on the floor with my back resting on the couch, slowly jacking my spit soaked cock.

He laid the towel on the floor, and we both sat on top of it. We both began to jerk off as we watched each other and he came in a matter of moments, pointing his cock down so the fat drops of sperm fell onto the towel. He wanted me to cum too, and I was trying. This would be the first time I would cum in the presence of another person, shyness crept in and try as I might I could not get myself to the point where I could blow my load.

He moved forward, rubbing my torso and licking my nipples in an effort to make me cum quicker. It didn't work. I was not used to having someone else touch me when I jerked off, my mind had an established rhythm in the lead up to ejaculating, and his actions had the opposite effect to those he desired.

I closed my eyes and had to concentrate. I thought about what I had done that morning, that I had finally lost my virginity, finally got to feel another mans cock in my mouth and see him loose his load because of me. That this would be the first in a lifetime of man on man sex.

That was it, I worked my way to a ball busting orgasm, and shot my load onto the towel.

Well most of my load. A few drops of sperm shot beyond the towel and landed on the carpet (well, I was a horned up 22 year old, and had been known to spray my load over my shoulder and onto my headboard in my solo sessions). He wasn't best pleased. Leaving evidence like that could have blown his cover. I apologised and used a corner of the towel to wipe away the incriminating evidence. I cleaned up my cock and dressed as he left the room again to get rid of the towel. He came back into the room to dress in the clothes he had left in a pile next to the couch. Dressed, I picked up my backpack and we left his house.

The plan was to drive me to the train station where he picked me up, but as he was running late for work, he asked if he could drop me off near a bus route that would take me into the city. I agreed. I guess in the back of his mind he was thinking he had to get back home and check that I had mopped up all the drops of spunk that had landed on the carpet, that all evidence of that mornings illicit activities had to be erased.

As he dropped me off, I told him that I had an amazing time, as did he. He couldn't believe that was my first time, and I had to assure him it was. He said he would text me later in the day, we said our goodbyes and he drove off. We texted a few times after that, but he was due to go away with his family on holiday, so meeting up again would have to wait.

It would be five years before we would meet again, and in doing so he would introduce me to the pleasures of group sex.

Thursday, 7 May 2009

The Good Student

Where did you learn about sex? From your parents? Siblings? Friends and peers?

My parents never had "the talk" with me, and being an only child I had no siblings to impart wisdom. School biology lessons were geared to ther mechanincs of reproduction, and trying to discuss gay sex with my peers would have most likely resulted in me being beaten up.

I have always been an academic sort, so learning comes easily to me. Be it via books, music or other forms of media, I would assimilate the information. My sexual education came mostly from porn.

When I was 17 I found my fathers' video collection. It was a compelation of straight '70's porn. Complete with bad dialouge, funky disco soundtrack and big hair. Both on the actors heads, and their nether regions.

I spent many a stolen moment, home alone, watching those videoes. My attention focused on the men, on their hard cocks and thrusting asses. The first time I saw an erect cock, other than my own, was on those videoes. It also showed me how hairy the male body can get.

One of my favourite scenes involved a guy with sexy black hair all over his legs and ass. By 17 I had a moderate amount of body hair, but thought I was abnormally hairy. I mean no book on puberty ever said that I'd grow hair on my ballsack, or in the crack of my ass, so when it happened I was a little freaked out. But seeing how hairy the guy on the video was helped me to accept it was normal.

It was from those videoes that I learned about giving head. I learnt about rimming from watching the UK version of "Queer As Folk". Finally a programe which spoke to me about being a gay man. The scenes of Stewart and Nathan in the first episode were an eyeopener, and my first taste of man on man action.

The next taste came a week before I first had sex. I had arranged to meet Guy #1 (the bi football jock) with the express purpose of loosing my virginity, and I wanted my performance to be more than satisfactory. So, as I would do with any other exam, I needed to bone up (pun definitely intended!)

The closest city to where I lived at the time had a gay quater, to which I had never ventured before. In the heart of the area was a gay bookstore. Since I worked in the city I had a vauge idea where the bookstore was and resolved to go there to futher my education.

It was a sunny June day. I had left work early that day and walked down towards the gay quater, sunglasses covering my eyes in an attempt to protect my identity. My heart thundered in my chest as I apporached the door of the bookstore. I went inside and was met with the dimmly lit interior, which meant I had to remove my sunglasses to see anything.

Sirens wailed overhead. The lights went up and my photograph was taken. My cover was blown and the village elders were immediatly alerted to my fall from grace. Not really, but that's a fraction of the crazy thoughts that went through my mind. I was so scared of being caught out, to be branded a deviant for expressing who I was.

The store was a revelation, the walls lined with clothing and underwear, books, magazines and music CDs, and an area devoted to sex toys and leatherwear. I spent a long time browsing the shelves, my eyes pouring over every detail of the items on sale as I decided on what I wanted to buy. As it was early afternoon, there was no other customers, so I had the run of the store. I ended up buying a couple of lifestyle magazines, a couple of jack off magazines, some condoms, lube and a gay porn video.

I couldn't stuff the plastic bag containing my just purchased paraphinalia into my workbag quickly enough, or get my sunglasses back on fast enough as I left the store, the paranoia of being outed fresh in my mind. That store was an important focal point for my sexual development, and I visited it many times over the years I lived near the city.

On arriving home, I went straight up to my bedroom and popped the tape into my VCR. For the next week I watched the video, drinking up every scene, and learning about how to give blowjobs, how to curl my lips around my teeth and use my tongue. About 69ing, rimming and anal. Studying each action like the good student I am.

Sunday, 3 May 2009

Guy #1: The First Meeting

I was 22 when I first had sex with another man. He was a married bisexual jock in his early 30's with a shaved head, smooth torso and 7.5" uncut cock.

This is the guy I alluded to at the end of my last post. It was on my day off and I travelled by bus to a train station located roughly equidistant from where we both lived. I was more than a little nervous as I walked up the road towards the station, not least because I was meeting a complete stranger and no one knew where I was.

I spotted a man sitting on a low wooden fence and next to a car, on the side of the road I was walking on. He had given me a description of his car in our last phone conversation, but I was so nervous the information flew out of my head. As I got closer I could see that the man roughly matched the description of the guy I was meeting, and was wearing clothes similar to the clothes he said he would wear.

I slowed down as I approached him, the hint of a smile on my face. I wanted to appear friendly, but was wary in case this guy turned out not to be the man I was due to meet. I need not have worried. He said hi and used my name, I returned the greeting, we shook hands and he asked if I wanted to sit in his car with him. I agreed.

He studied me as I sat in his car, and I did the same. He was as attractive as I had imagined (this was a time before camera phones so I had no idea what he looked like before this first meeting) with hazel eyes and high cheekbones. His head was shaved smooth and his skin was tanned.

We chatted. I knew he was married and had to be discrete, as did I as I was not out. I explained to him that I was still a virgin, and apart from kissing a guy during my time at university, I had no experience with guys. He said that because of his situation he couldn't take me back to his place on that day as his wife was home, even though he wanted to, so we agreed to arrange another time to meet when he had the place to himself.

He told me how attractive I was and how much he wanted to kiss me, but as we were out in public we didn't touch. He said he definitely wanted to have sex with me. I just wanted to have sex, but I rephrased it by saying I liked him too.

I left him in his car with the promise that I would text him when I had a day off from work, so he could take some time off too. So two weeks later we met up again at the same train station. I once again got into his car and this time he drove me to his place where we had sex.