My Weird Little Sex Life Part 3
By The Gargoyle
The following content is absolutely true. I've altered most of the biographical and geographical names in effort to maintain anonymity and also to avoid duplication of given names, which I know can be confusing.
Gay Pride Day was approaching, the first such occasion since I emerged from the closet. Pat and I agreed to attend the weekend festivities together and to split a hotel room.
On the eve of parade day we journeyed from the suburbs to the big city and hit the gay bars. Legal age was 19. I was just a year away but didn't look it. I was thin and smooth- skinned but I was able to get by the bouncers most of the time by entering among a group of older friends and by wearing a carefully studied expression on my face that made me look a little older according to my friends' assurances.
Once inside I always received plenty of stares and free drinks but I never encouraged the strangers that approached me. I tried to act like I didn't want the attention but for a teenager who'd been pretty shy and self-conscious as a child it was quite an ego-boost to be getting so much attention. Mind you, at that time there weren't many teenagers coming out of the closet so I was monopolizing a pretty large share of that market. These days there's a plethora of teenagers in the bars and some of them are awfully cute!
Pat and I had requested a two-bed hotel room. It came with just one queen-size bed (no pun intended) but we didn't mind sharing.
I awoke in the middle of the night to discover hands on me. He was touching my back and my ass - through my underwear. I stayed still and silent and let him do it.
He crept stealthily out of bed and went into the bathroom for quite some time but on the way he stopped at the foot of the bed and played with my bare feet for a while. That's when I learned that I wasn't the only person in the world with a liking for feet.
I must explain something. I'm probably coming across as some kind of narcissist or exhibitionist as I relate these encounters which so far, all seem to center around my own body. But here's what you must understand. My feelings about sex, similar to those about love, have never leaned toward any kind of reciprocity. My instincts have always dictated that sex and love are about one worshipful admirer and one beautiful beloved.
Here's the kicker: I've never wanted to be the beloved. I've only ever wanted to be the admirer. I've always wanted to be the provider and the protector. Does that seem a little pederastic? I was without a father during my early formative years so that may have something to do with it.
So why was I playing the opposite role at that time in my life? Because I was yet to meet someone beautiful who would let me worship them. All my desires still centered around Kyle, the unattainable straight boy. I played the opposite role because it was the only role available. In those days all I could do was to live vicariously through those who admired me. And frankly I wanted to be kind. Why deny someone the pleasure they wanted while I was trying to find someone willing to extend that very favor to me? It would have been hypocritical!
I fell in with a small crowd of slightly older handsome gay elitists. They were rather snobby and careful about whom they allowed into their little clique. They were fashionable and political and I realized quickly that I didn't fit in with this crowd and didn't really want to.
I was ready to sever my inclusion but the silliest thing happened. A struggling semi-professional dancer, one of the clique, invited me to hang out with him one evening - just the two of us. We spent a long late night together just driving around, walking around and talking about our often- difficult lives. His unlikely name, Tristan Castlebrook seemed somehow pretentious to me and I now suspect it may have been the result of a legal name change - perhaps for the benefit of his dancing career. Either way it matched his rather calculated personality.
As the sun was about to rise we returned to his apartment building. In the lobby we said our good-byes and as it was the custom in the group to give hugs I asked,
"Is this place too public for a hug?"
"Not at all," he replied. "Is it too public for a kiss?" I was floored. He had this sparkling grin on his face and I realized, somewhat horrified that this whole thing had been a date. The crazy thing is - I was too embarrassed to admit my mistake. He kissed me deeply and guided me up to his tiny apartment.
I'd been embarrassed about the exhibitionistic sessions with Danny so I'd kept it secret. Tristan made the assumption that I was still a virgin and was beside himself with delight at the prospect of unraveling my cherry. I played along. Who was I to disappoint him?
He undressed me reverently. He caressed and kissed and licked my body while I squirmed beneath his eager hands and lips. His de-robing was an afterthought. His dick was quite big and I jerked it for him now and then but he didn't want to come. He said that was his way with sex. He never wanted the arousal to end while he was with a partner so he would only come by masturbating later, when alone and re-living the encounter in his imagination.
I, on the other hand, came several times. Once in his mouth and often in his hand. Tristan was an exquisite masturbator. He had magic fingers. Oral and anal may be the popular flavors of gay sex but the hand jobs I got from him provided some of the most euphoric, torturous mind-blowing orgasms I've ever had.
We actually became boyfriends for no other reason then my being too embarrassed to admit the misunderstanding concerning our 'date'. It sounds crazy but it's true. And the fault was apparently mine because it turned out the whole group found it obvious that Tristan was after me since day-one. I hadn't realized it.
Despite my mother's protests I spent a few over-nights at his place. He loved slobbering all over me and I felt good fulfilling his fantasies - or so I perceived. I never thought I might be hurting him.
I became worried as I realized how much he was falling for me. I knew I had to break it off before it got out of hand. I did so. He begged me not to leave him. He said he'd never been so happy in his life. I felt sick about it. We had our last dinner together. I drove away while he stood on the sidewalk staring at me with the most sorrowful expression I've ever seen. Whether it was genuine or an act, I don't know. Everything was a show with him.
Twice in the next ten years I ran into him and we just laughed about how infatuated he had been - saying how juvenile it all was.
I'll never run into him again. He's gone. He went the same way as Dr Blake. I guess he got tired of living a pretend life and was too afraid of trying to live a real one - so he just called it quits.
Things were difficult at home. The gay issue was a bit of a problem but I blew it all out of proportion. I quit high- school, got a crappy job and moved out. Although part of it was just that I had to get away from Kyle. My infatuation with him was fucking up both our lives. I rented a room from a single gay man. For the record, that relationship remained strictly landlord-tenant.
I dated a couple more guys in rapid succession. Then finally I met someone that was gay, my age and that I was attracted to!
I'd heard all about Ted before I actually met him. Danny fell in lust with him and told me all about him. Danny had secretly been giving him occasional blow-jobs, which he was also doing for me again as I wasn't dating at the time. Finally Ted and I met a couple of times in group social situations and we seemed to hit it off pretty well.
Then we got together for a movie - just the two of us. It was a Sunday evening and afterwards we went to his small apartment and stayed up all night just talking. As morning arrived we finally confessed our mutual attraction to one another, agreed to be boyfriends, kissed good-bye and went to work.
Monday evening we got right back together and were naked in bed in no time. He had a great body, not really thin as I normally preferred but very firm and toned and smooth. Oh and he had nice feet too. Everything was mutual this time. We sucked and fondled and kissed endlessly. It was the best reciprocal sex I've ever had. He knew about my fetish and would rub my dick with his toes sometimes. It felt awesome.
When Danny found out about Ted and I it ended our friendship. He was jealous. I guess he felt I betrayed him somehow. Perhaps I did. I'm not a saint. But Ted meant a lot to me. He was cute and sexy and the sex and the cuddling were great and I'd never experienced anything like this. I wanted to spend my life with him. I couldn't choose Danny's friendship over Ted's love.
Ted asked me to fuck him. I did but just once. I didn't really like it. He tried to fuck me. It hurt too much and we never tried again.
We were walking through a mall one day when we ran into two of Ted's friends. One of them was a 23-year old fellow named Gerald. I actually have no remembrance of this event whatsoever but I know it happened. Gerald was destined to play a major role in my life and he still talks about the time at the mall where he first laid eyes on me.
Ted moved to Baltimore temporarily - for university. I had a job with odd shifts that afforded me a five-day weekend every third week. This was the only time I could spend with him. It was a long trip - the furthest I'd ever been from home. The first time I showed up it took all of 30 seconds to find ourselves up in his room naked. We climbed all over each other. We could sixty-nine all night back then and we were good at it too. We had rhythm! He had an awesome dick.
My second visit, three weeks later, was very painful. The second night there we went out to a local gay bar with a new friend of Ted's named Lance. While we sat in the bar I saw the door open and if my eyes did not deceive me - in walked Kyle. Kyle - the object of all my desires - in a gay bar in another state. It was utterly surreal.
It was not Kyle at all. It was a local young gay fellow who looked so much like Kyle - and Craig of course - they could have been triplets. It was haunting.
I was devastated. The urge to go and speak to this gorgeous boy was overwhelming. But what on earth could I say? The truth would have sounded like the worst pick-up line ever. And what about Ted? I couldn't do that to him. I kept quiet. The boy was soon being pawed over by some older man and I kept silent about everything.
Our last full night together Ted and I lay in bed and he made a confession. He and Lance had been sleeping together. I was devastated all over again. The relationship was over. I know now that no male is fully capable of monogamy or faithfulness. For each and every man there is some level of temptation that he can not resist. It's true. But I didn't know that then. I was naive. I was idealistic. I wasn't mad but I was hurt. I was crushed. I knew I'd miss him. We held each other and cried together.
The next evening I packed the car to head home. But when I left I didn't go straight home. I called the Baltimore 'gayline' for a list of gay bars and their addresses and I stalked them all evening. I completed the circuit twice. I had to find this Kyle-look-alike. I had to tell him he was beautiful. He deserved to know. And if he showed any interest in me at all - I'd have packed my belongings and moved to Baltimore - just for a shot at being his boyfriend. He was that beautiful. But I never found him and that's probably for the best. He probably would have thought I was some kind of psycho.
GERALD
Ted and I stayed in touch and we even hooked up for quick sex on a few occasions. I decided at this time that I would never under any circumstances ever have a boyfriend again! I was dead serious.
I was 19 now and had my own tiny bachelor apartment. The rent was $230 a month! Ted called me one Saturday just to say hi and as he did I was pondering a large piece of artwork that I needed to return to the art gallery. It wouldn't fit in my little Nissan.
"Call Gerald or Dale," suggested Ted. They were twin brothers - tall and thin with a lot of body hair but receding on top already. They had pleasant handsome faces. I'd met Gerald at the mall, you'll recall, though I didn't realize it. Gerald had a jeep and Dale a pick-up truck.
"Naw, I don't really know them very well - to be asking favors," said I.
"Trust me," urged Ted, "Either of them would be very happy to do you a favor." He was insistent. He knew something I didn't. He gave me their phone numbers."
I was tight for options. I knew Dale a little better of the two. Though I found his manner rather intense and felt a little nervous around him, I gave Dale a call. He wasn't home.
Gerald was. He dropped everything to come straight over and pick up me and the painting.
Task done I invited him in for a coffee but he revealed he had to catch a plane! He was just packing for his vacation when I'd called. I was shocked he did me this favor at such a time!
He took a rain check on the coffee and two weeks later he flew back home and wasted no time cashing it in. We became instant friends. He started visiting almost every evening. He knew how I felt - about wanting to be single - and it was torturing him. He wanted me in the worst way and I had no idea.
One day as he visited I was barefoot. I knelt on the couch in order to reach for something behind it and all of a sudden he rushed up behind me, bent down and planted a sloppy kiss on the sole of my foot. He passed it off as a joke but I knew better. I realized two things. One - there were now at least three people in the world with a thing for feet - and two, Gerald had some kind of feelings toward me.
I was determined to just stay friends but Gerald was a charmer, a real pro. He laid it on thick and I started to fall for him.
We'd been buddies a few months when he talked me into vacationing with him in Florida. I insisted the hotel rooms have two beds. I was still resistant to the idea of a boyfriend.
We had a great time. It was my first proper vacation. After the first night we never used the second bed. Gerald was (and still is) very sexually adventurous. He rimmed my ass. He licked my feet and sucked my toes. He took me shopping for dirty magazines. He had us taking photos of each other in the hotel room, naked and jerking off. We both have copies still! We took candid shots of young shirtless strangers on the street. He was wild and youthful and giddy and he would be my boyfriend for the next 13 years. And in that time we would find all sorts of trouble to get in to!
To be continued.
Feedback most welcome: thegarg0yle@hotmail.com [note the '0' in gargoyle is a zero!]