The Gay History of Me Ch. 01

The Absolutely Unfabulous Gay History of Me. We all have our own gay stories. Here's mine:

The first real sexual interaction I had was at a glory hole at college. What I mean by "at college" I literally mean AT college...in the library restroom. I knew I was gay; I just had no clue where to meet guys, and then I read the writing on the wall, the restroom wall. It was the deal where you went in at a certain time, sat down, and tapped your foot lightly.

I remember this mystery guy, whom I never met or found out who he was, rolling his finger around the gloryhole and pointing down to the floor. The guy slid down to his knees to the gap between the stall wall and the floor. His hand motioned under the stall for me to join him. I got down on my knees and his hand reached under and massaged my thigh. He took my hand and guided it to his cock. I had never touched another cock until I was almost twenty-one and about to graduate. I was startled by how soft and velvety it felt over the hardness underneath. My hand traveled over the guy's hard and flat stomach and his full dark brown bush. I jacked his cock for bit. He pulled at my thigh wanting me to get closer. When I did, he went down on my cock, his tongue swirling around the head and down its length. Needless to say, I didn't last long. I grabbed the edge of the stall and groaned as I filled his mouth. He swallowed my load and milked my cock for every drop. He jerked himself off a few times and came on my thigh.

I had only a couple of chances to do something with another guy before that encounter, chances that I missed taking very far before I got scared and let slip away.

I went riding with a friend in his sports car a year or so earlier. His family had a business and that evening it was closed. He drove around back and parked his car. He started talking about jerking off, telling me about how he hated doing it alone. He talked about how good it felt when he was on a date and the girl he was with reached over and unzipped him. He pulled his zipper down a bit and talked about how she would take out his cock and jack him off. I got nervous and lied, saying I had to get back for a class or a test or something. He zipped up and drove me back.

I still jerk on my own cock thinking about jacking him off. I fantasize about how I would have maybe even gone down on his cock, his hand of the back of my head urging my mouth further down his hard straight cock. I think about him making me take his load; him patting my cheek and telling me how much better I was at sucking his fat cock than they were. He was taller than me, blonde-headed and slim-built, really sexy; I never saw his cock, but imagine it was pretty big from the bulge in his jeans.

The other missed chance was with my best friend at the time in our dorm room. He was over six-feet tall with a muscular tight body. He was a dirty-blond with skin that tanned easily. I remember his dark brown nips and the patch of dark brown hair between them. His cock, which I had seen in the communal dorm showers, was long and thick, resting on two large low-hanging balls. He'd lounge around in his tight white underwear, wearing nothing else but a thin gold chain around his neck.

One evening, he brought a sorority chick over and they made out a bit on his bed. Then they stopped and looked at me. After awhile, he asked if I needed to be in class. I told him it had been cancelled and I needed to go through my notes and get them organized.

We had been having issues about something and weren't getting along during this time. I was bound and determined I was not going to leave so he could fuck that chick. They started making out again and he took off his white t-shirt. He started nibbling her neck and I looked over at them. She saw me watching and pushed him away. She got up and told him she had to go. He looked at me glaringly angry. After she left he continued to stare at me for awhile and I just ignored him. I grabbed a textbook and sat on my bed to do some reading. He finally got up and stripped down to his underwear, flopping onto his bed and grabbing at his pillow. I remember his half-hard cock in his briefs as he twisted and turned. After about 30 minutes, he raised up.

"Turn off that motherfucking light!" I remember him growling at me.

"No," I responded, turning my back to him and pretending to read.

I heard his bed creak and saw him throw his pillow onto the floor. He grabbed my book and threw it on the floor too. He grabbed my t-shirt and I heard it rip. I was on my back and he was lying on top of me. He grabbed my hair in his fist, shaking my head a bit to get my attention.

He started telling me how he was tired of my shit. He cussed me up and down. His loud angry voice scared the shit out of me. He started about how I ruined a hot piece of pussy for him. He carried on about how horned up he had been lately and how he'd already fingered her pussy in stairway. He pushed his fingers into my nose and told me they still smelled of hot perfumed pussy juice. I pulled away and he laughed.

"Yeah, maybe I oughta fuck your ass since you made me miss that sweet pussy. Make you suck the cum out of my big throbbing cock!" he said, almost spitting into my face. "You want that? You want to be bobbing up and down on this big straight-ass cock?" He reached down, pulled his briefs down and shook his cock at me. "Fucking tell me you want to suck my cock, motherfucker!"

Although I really wanted to suck on his big cock, I just pretended to cry and said I was sorry over and over again. He pushed me backward. He got off me and gave me an angry look. He balled up his fist like he wanted to hit me. He walked over and hit the closet door with his fist. I just cowered on my bed. He turned out the light and fell onto his bed. The next morning he was gone and soon after moved out of the dorm room. We ever talked again.

I still think about what it would have been like to suck his cock. Nothing gets me off quicker when I masturbate now than thinking of his angry episode, his fiery temper as I suck him off or he fucks me.

"Yeah, fucking your gay ass like it was her tight pussy! That tight ass getting my big cock rammed into it because I missed some choice pussy! Fucking you like that sweet wet pussy!" he tells me in my fantasies as he pounds me into the bed before he finally breeds my hole, filling me with cum that should have belonged to her.

Up until that first encounter in the restroom with that mysterious guy, it had only been an imagined fantasy world full of Playgirl magazine models whom I lusted for and straight boys whom I knew. I knew there was more out there. I had read books and I knew about the theory of gay sex. I didn't know exactly how things happened until I later met Joey face to face on the steps of the library. It was several weeks later after that first encounter, and after having jerked off with various other guys in the restroom. He passed me a note asking if I wanted to meet and do more after he had sucked my cock.

"Hey, I'm Joey!" he said walking up to me. "I remember your shorts and shoes...and your book bag," he continued. "Wanna go to my place?"