Date: Tue, 12 Apr 2005 23:05:41 -0400
From: The Gargoyle <thegarg0yle@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Weird Little Sex Life - Part 2

My Weird Little Sex Life
Part 2

By The Gargoyle

The following content is absolutely true. I've changed many
of the names in order to safeguard my own anonymity, and
also to remove duplication of given names which I know can be confusing to
readers.


HIGH SCHOOL

   While my encounter with Mrs. MacDonald and her
voyeuristic husband convinced me that my preference indeed
leaned to the gay side I still figured I'd lead a straight
life. I had no intention of coming out of the closet to
anyone because I saw no advantage to it.
   Then I met Daryl. He was in the grade below me but was in
my second semester English class because he was fast-
tracking through high-school. That is - he was building a 5-
year diploma in just 4 years.
   Daryl was the first boy I found myself significantly
attracted to. He was somewhat 'preppy' and often wore deck
shoes to school without socks. During class he would
sometimes slip his shoes off and I had a hard time
concentrating on class and not eyeing his feet.
   The attraction was strong enough that I came to realize
that staying in the closet might not be an option. How could
one make love to girls knowing that such strong desires
existed that could only be satisfied by boys?
   The matter was sealed when the second object of my
affection came along. That was none other than Kyle, Daryl's
close friend - also a year younger than I. The three of us
were not only in the same English class (the only class I
would ever share with either of them) but we also were in
the same work-group. Our desks would be pushed together
along with three other students whenever we did
collaborative work.
   I was a decent student but my grades plummeted in this
class. I was thoroughly head-over-heels infatuated with this
miracle of a boy. Kyle was thin, rather shy and intensely
beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Now I finally
understood that my being gay would have to be reckoned with.
I just couldn't keep my love for this boy a secret. It was
burning a hole in my heart.
   Kyle had a twin brother (a theme in my life, it would
come to seem) named Craig. They were physically almost
identical. This worked out well for me because I loved Kyle
too much to dishonor him by fantasizing about him sexually!
So all my masturbatory fantasies revolved around Craig for
the longest time. I would imagine kissing him from head to
toe - especially the toes, and sucking his dick. I would
orgasm quickly (I was using my hand finally) and then spend
the next two hours hugging my pillow fiercely, pretending it
was Kyle while I cried my eyes out. Rather pathetic I now
realize.
   In my mind I had built Kyle up to be such a wonderful
person that he would surely be understanding and sympathetic
to my plight. So I chose him to come out of the closet to!
This was a horrendous mistake. While I thought I could
quietly reveal my undying love for him and receive a
compassionate (and profoundly delicious) hug in response,
instead it scared the shit out of him. I then spent the next
year and a half begging him to meet with me privately,
intending that I would properly explain the situation and
assure him that this whole mess was no big deal from his
point of view and no threat to his own heterosexual future.
I promised to entirely disappear from his life after our
private meeting.
   All this he flatly rejected and in a fiasco of immaturity
I declared that I'd given up on life and found myself in a
psychiatrist's office.
   Dr. Blake was more messed up than I was. He made a career
of counseling gay kids. He would always sit immediately
beside me on the couch, regularly put his arm around me and
always insisted on warm hugs before and after each session.
His repeated advice was to get myself laid by a nice gay boy
and then I would forget all about Kyle. I was certain Dr.
Blake had no clue what he was talking about and suspected
that perhaps HE should be paying ME for our sessions with
all the groping going on.
   Dr. Blake, I'm sad to say, took his own life some time
later, long after I had given up on our sessions having
discovered the vastly superior benefits of support-group
therapy.


OUT

   My first evening at the gay support group offered me my
first cognizant contact with other gays and lesbians. It was
wonderfully liberating. After the meeting the group headed
out to the local gay bar, as was their custom. I was
underage so I started walking to the bus stop instead when
one of the fellows came up behind me and invited me out for
coffee. Paul was older, unattractive (in my judgement) and
seemed a little slick in personality but being so eager to
have someone to talk to, I went with him.
   We wound up at the apartment he shared with his dad and
went straight to his bedroom, coffee apparently forgotten.
He assured me rather pointedly that we would not be
disturbed by his dad. I wasn't at all concerned about that
and wondered why he hadn't introduced us (god, I was naive).
We listened to music and talked. At one point he looked at
my lap and said, "Nice basket. Want to have a picnic?"
   He then brandished some magazines of a quality I've never
seen before or since. They contained picture series of
gorgeous teenagers (my age) stripping naked and jerking off
for the camera. I was spellbound. Unfortunately my reverie
was interrupted when Paul suddenly pressed his face to mine
and snaked his tongue down my throat. A very unfortunate
first-kiss I must say. I patiently waited for this to stop,
regretfully put the magazine down and stood up to leave. He
fell to his knees before me, reached for the button of my
jeans and said, "May I?"
   "Not tonight," said I. "Let's wait til we get to know
each other a bit better, okay?" He graciously stood and
walked me to the bus stop. I had no intention of getting to
know him better and avoided him at every future opportunity.
   I went home that night and in my room I fantasized about
being one of the magazine boys. I stripped, imitated some of
the poses I'd seen and jerked off.

   At the next support group meeting I met two fellows,
Danny and Pat. They were also new to the group and meeting
each other for the first time. Afterwards the three of us
went for coffee - at a real coffee shop - and became fast
friends. I was the glue that brought us together though I
didn't yet realize it. I would later discover that each of
them had designs on me.
   Pat was a few years older. Danny was my age and initially
we became quite close. I wouldn't have guessed that it would
actually be Pat that would prove to be a truly marvelous
person and a dear life-long friend.
   Danny was extremely outgoing, a bit of a 'queen' already
at 17 and highly promiscuous. He'd borrow his dad's giant
Buick and we'd drive all over town. He'd show me the
cruising areas, not that I cared to know, and make me listen
to dreadful dance music.
   One night he took us to a dark area just off the road
that overlooked the city (not the place where I met
Marilyn). We sat close together on the bench style front
seat and talked about our problems and listened to the
radio. He described something his mother used to do to make
him sleepy when putting him to bed at night. He wanted to
demonstrate and took my hand and drew light ticklish circles
on my palm with his finger. It felt good and I just relaxed
and let him do it.
   "Would you mind if I take this a little further?" he
asked. This took me entirely by surprise. I was not
attracted to him physically and never suspected he thought
of me that way.
   "Um, I guess not," I said. He continued with my hand and
then traveled up and down my bare arm. He rubbed my chest
through the shirt then slipped his hand under it and worked
his way up my bare chest. The sensations were pleasant. I
was wearing athletic shorts (which were still rather short
in those days. The longer style shorts - jammers, I believe
they were called at the time - were just beginning to come
into fashion at that time but were strictly the domain of
skateboarders!) He began tickling my thigh and then my inner
thigh. His hand slipped inside the leg of my shorts and up
the front of my leg til he reached the liner of my shorts.
   My dick was rising and soon he found it through the
liner. He gave it a brief squeeze and it became very hard
indeed. Danny 'ooh'ed and giggled. He withdrew his hand and
then crept forth again, this time going under the liner and
beneath my underwear. He grazed through my pubes, tickled my
balls and then circled the base of my hard-on.
   I had my eyes closed, just enjoying the wild sensations.
He slowly ran a single finger up the length of my dick and
down again.
   "Do you mind if we take these off?" he asked, meaning the
shorts.
   "Okay."
   "Shirt first, he said, and began rolling it up and off
me. I lifted my arms and let it come off. He trailed his
fingers down my chest, smiling with approval. He grabbed the
waistband of my shorts, I lifted my ass and in a flash he
had them - and my underwear - around my ankles. He was all
smiles as he caressed my hard dick.
   "Are you embarrassed that I'm seeing you naked?" he
whispered.
   "No," said I, though I was, but just a bit.
   "Move over," he directed. I slid closer to the passenger
door. He wanted room to bend over. "May I give you your
first blow job?" he asked, grinning sweetly. I just nodded.
   Down he went.
   It was heavenly. I never imagined anything could feel
that good. He took it all the way. He was talented. His
tongue was everywhere. One hand played with my balls. He
tried to force the other under my butt. When I realized what
he wanted I lifted up for a second so he could get his hand
under my ass.
   On the radio, Fleetwood Mac's current hit 'Big Love' was
playing. He alternately blew me and jerked me off for the
duration of seven more songs. I used to be able to name them
all.
   Though it felt awesome I couldn't seem to come no matter
how I tried. I apologized.
   "Why?" he asked. "I'm in no hurry. I'm still enjoying
this!" But he was on a strict curfew because his dad worked
night shift and needed the car. We did have to quit.
   "I want to see you come," he said. "Will you jerk
yourself off?" I thought that was a good idea and he sat
back and watched while I stroked it. Still I couldn't come.
I was mystified.
   "What's different?" he asked. "How do you normally do it
at home?"
   "I just get naked and lie down and do it."
   "Do you need to lie down? Do you need to get naked?"
   "No, I sit sometimes, and I'm practically naked already."
   "Not quite," Danny declared and pulled my shorts off my
ankles along with shoes and socks. Then he even took my
wristwatch off. He sucked me some more then took my hand and
placed it around my cock. I jerked off again while he
stroked my chest and legs and I came. I've never been one to
shoot very far but this one popped about 15 inches. More
dribbled out and down went Danny to gobble it up.
   Afterwards he asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend. I
felt really sad for him and told him that I just didn't feel
that way about him. He seemed okay with that.

   For the next couple months Danny and I got together
frequently. Any time one of us could borrow our parents' car
we would end the night by parking somewhere remote. He would
strip me naked, blow me and watch me whack off. Sometimes
he'd get me to open my door and stand just outside so he
could sit on the side edge of the seat and fondle my butt.
   Just to be fair I asked him a couple of times what I
could do to help him get off but he always turned me down.
   One night I slept over in Danny's basement bedroom with
him. His parents didn't yet know he was gay. Pat was meeting
us early the next morning at Danny's place to take us
golfing - something neither Danny or I had done before.
   He stripped me and worshipped my dick. I jerked off and
then we slept together in his somewhat small bed - my first
time sleeping with a gay guy. He cuddled me from behind with
his arm around me. He confessed that he'd always wanted to
do that. I felt him getting an erection. I reached down and
held it for a bit but he shooed me away.
   He also let me in on a secret - that Pat was jealous of
the two of us spending so much time together - that Pat
wanted me for himself. This took me by surprise.
   The next morning we were awakened by Pat's voice calling
to us. Danny's mom had let him in and sent him down to
Danny's room. I flew out of the bed, still naked, dragging a
blanket and pillow with me. Pat had no idea that Danny and I
had been fooling around and I hoped to keep it that way. I
threw myself onto a small couch right by the door and just
managed to get the blanket across my midsection when Pat
came through the door laughing and telling us to rise and
shine. I acted like I had slept on the couch and was just
awakening.
  I couldn't help notice that Pat was eyeing my exposed
chest and legs. So I figured Danny's report must be true.


To be continued.