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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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We've had this question in the past, and I could search for it and rehash it. But I think it might be better fresh.
Now do not just be trivial. And if it is bisexual that you are, use that instead of gay.
Think of all the surrounding circumstances. Had you had any form of non solo sex before or at that point?
What, if anything, do you think might have affected the gay or straight outcome?
What made you certain?
[Updated on: Mon, 13 September 2010 20:04]
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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I knew I was gay, in 1998, aged 48, when I was first able to say to myself "I am a gay man." without flinching. Before them I'd not accepted it in any way at all.
I knew first that I had an attraction, a huge attraction to one specific boy whom I loved blindly, and countless others over whom I drooled, many years before that, when I was 13 years and six weeks old. I was so horrified about this that I denied any form of homosexuality, simply telling myself that I was passing through a phase. That phase is depicted at http://vote.sparklit.com/poll.spark/1107722
This is in a peculiar order, but I thought, hoped, that I was no longer interested in young men when I fell for my wife hook, line and sinker. That was in 1978. But the love of a good woman, even great sex, does not cure or even suppress homosexuality.
Back when I was 13 there was no trigger. I fell in love with the boy's arm hair first, and then the rest of him. I only wanted to be friends. I refused to be queer, you understand, for terror of being imprisoned in a lunatic asylum.
I do know I was fascinated by my penis, but I think all boys are, and by other naked bodies, but always my age and of both sexes. I think all kids are. I found naked men to be odd creatures with pendulous and peculiar equipment and was nt at all interested in anyone developmentally older than I was.
When I was 10 I saw some boys "showing bottoms" cheeks pulled apart, to each other in the school changing rooms. That game looked fun, so I played it with my 8 year old neighbour friend as often as he'd let me. We had still little willies, too, and showed them to each other. But if one of his sisters had wanted to join in that would have been fine, too.
I know that, at four years old, I used to hide between the house and the fence out of my mother's sight and push little pebbles up my bum. Are all boys fascinated by the anus? I have no idea.
I think the best answer I have is that I knew I was gay in 1998 when I realised, at long last, that I had been hiding all my life. But I am not sure.
I have often wondered if the fact that all the women and girls I was surrounded by as I grew up were built like hippos had any influence over not liking the female form much.
What made me truly certain?
It was such a long process that certainty came over time. There were girls and women I found attractive. I'm sure many heterosexual men find some boys and men attractive, too. I fell in love with one special girl. I denied I was gay until 1998, yet I was sure I was not bisexual, and never thought I was heterosexual.
I became certain while seeking infertility treatment. Our son was born with my semen surgically implanted after concentration. In the wanking cupboard were high street wank magazines. The only picture that gave me an erection in the bizarre circumstances had a naked man, full frontal, flaccid, in the far background, well away form the naked lady parts in the foreground. That was in 1984. I was certain, even if I was in full denial.
[Updated on: Mon, 13 September 2010 20:10]
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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DesDownunder
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Likes it here |
Location: Adelaide, South Australia
Registered: September 2010
Messages: 127
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How did I know I was gay?
hmm...
It wasn't because my mother divorced my father when I was 2 years old, for his hobby, which was other women.
It wasn't because I looked at the other boys in the street as I swung on the garden gate at the age of 5.
It wasn't because I played 'house' with the little girl down the street at the same age.
It wasn't because my cousin wanted to play doctors with nine year old me being the doctor and moving my hands across his clothed stomach. (Why did he like that?)
It wasn't because my stepfather took extra care inspecting the cleanliness of my pee-pee which felt really nice. Neither was it because after my mother divorced him, my stepfather ran off with my godfather. I never knew about that until I was in my late twenties.
It wasn't because the older girl in grade 6 wouldn't be my girlfriend.
It wasn't because my mother banned Kevin from being my best friend because he was a bad influence (with criminal tendencies - she was right.)
It wasn't because the school doctor jiggled my testicles and made me cough in 7th grade. Although I do confess that the experience did make me try to look up the shorts of other boys.
It wasn't when I discovered masturbation with the pillow, which was when I realised that that was what happened when you got to 'do it' with a girl.
It wasn't when I acceded to another 13 year old boy's desire to exchange hand jobs, or on the following day, blow jobs.
It wasn't even when I decided to assist other male high school students to try similar exchanges of favours.
It wasn't when the local priest told me that it was better for a man to be homosexual if it stopped him from accosting young girls. (An offence for which he was some years later arrested...of course, and he wasn't even a Catholic priest.)
I do remember at the age of 16 coming to the conclusion that I would just do it with boys until I got married -to a girl, after all it was 1960.
Shortly after that I decided that I would just enjoy my increasing number of promiscuous relationships with any male that was attractive and attracted to me.
I had one rule, never to have sex with anyone who had not already made up their own mind that they wanted to do it with me. This has proved to have been a fortunate decision as locally there has been a witch-hunt by the law, for older men who seduced underage children back in those days.
It is important to remember that this period of my life was during the time homosexual acts were a crime, punishable by up to 2 years hard labour and would remain so here until 1972 when it was decriminalised.
I did have an older mentor who guided me through my midteens and we remained lovers until he died some 30 years later. He was married, and was very understanding of my promiscuity as I was of the dedication he had to his wife and children.
I have no doubt in my mind that the criminalisation of homosexuality was a major contribution to promiscuous relationships which blossomed in public gardens and toilets. Fleeting moments of satisfaction that were themselves addictive and the only form of expression of intimacy for thousands of men, some of whom were married.
By the time I was 18 I had become accepting of my orientation as a homosexual. The remains of my religion were fading into a well deserved grave of obsolescence.
I was lucky, I had been able to be myself despite the law, taboos and cultural expectations.
I was eventually seduced at the age of 26 by a woman, who offered to send my boyfriend away from me, and it was then that I realised I would never be happy without an extra set of male organs in my life. So I ended our two week affair. She was most understanding.
That was when I was sure I was gay.
Okay so it sounds like I am bragging, when I say my lovers shared me, but hey, it was the 1960s and 70s, we did those things back then. It was a time that was in many ways more liberal and less judgmental than today. There was a willingness to explore, and experiment.
What I am aware of is that I also lost an opportunity. In a society that accepts consenting adult sexuality without any kind of oppression or labels, I may well have had children as well as my lovers of either or both sexes, but I had grown up during a period when we had to define ourselves, no matter how long it took, or how obsequious it was. To call myself gay was to deny forever the possibility of having children. Interestingly those men who were gay and submitted to the pressure to marry and have children, were placed in equally restrictive, sometimes clandestine, and always tormented situation of not being able to be who they really felt they were. It still happens.
Our cultures have imposed certain expectations on us, and they do not meet our natural inclinations. I guess that is what concerns me about saying I am gay. I think we humans are not bisexual, homo- or hetero-sexual, we are just sexual. Our cultures have tried to make our relationships conform to some sort of expected and approved behavior. 10% or any percentage is arbitrary and somewhat meaningless to my analysis of my experience of human sexuality.
I do not mean to overlook those people who are transgendered, but the majority of the human population seems to me to be very capable of expressing their affection for and with each other physically, sexually, but culture and religion has much to answer for in their repression of our natural and wonderful, healthy human affinity for loving each other. We segregate, limit, and impose artificial divisions on ourselves sexually, where none are needed. (This discussion does include child abuse which is another subject.)
Genetic determination is only part of the story that affects some of us. Overall if the above repressions were seen for the unnecessary restrictions that I propose that they are, we might well see the human race much happier and more loving than it is today. It would at least be as accepting as some other cultures have shown themselves to be in older times, and other places on the planet, and they clearly show the ability of the race to be at least sexually multifarious if not omnifarious, (even if the males of the species do entertain the desire to be omnipotent.)
I think that is the true agenda of sexual liberty -to be able to express affection without guilt, and hopefully with love, regardless of labels. This is certainly the attitude I see growing amongst the young, LGBT or straight.
If I was 16 today, I might well be inclined to have many lovers without concern to judge my sexuality, or theirs. It simply shouldn't be an issue.
Long term companionship would probably be determined by the sole factor of devotion which grows between particular individuals over time.
And in case you're wondering, no, neither my boyfriend or I wish to marry, but we hold that the equality of marriage should be available to all.
Of course none of this is fully possible today, Darwin still has a lot of work to do, as 'they' say; so too do those of us who value freedom and human rights.
In the mean time, I'm gay, proud and out.
Have I answered the question? ;-D ::-)
[Updated on: Tue, 14 September 2010 01:44]
DesDownunder
Call me naive if you want, but life without trust in the goodness of others would be intolerable.
Religious indoctrination: It gets better, without it.
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saben
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On fire! |
Registered: May 2003
Messages: 1537
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My attraction and my sexual attraction developed independently.
My sexual attraction towards other boys started around 12. I recognised that I wanted to try stuff with other boys (but had no interest in girls) but didn't put the "gay" tag to it. In hindsight, though, I 'knew' that I only wanted to try stuff with boys, I just didn't know that meant I was gay. (Of course not everyone that wants to try boys is gay, but it was the only thing I wanted to try and my interest in males has continued so for me it did mean I was gay).
My physical attraction towards guys- their faces, etc start probably when I was 15ish. I started being interested in teen-actors, video game characters, etc that were cute, but I didn't call them cute, just "cool". And I started thinking about real life guys in similar terms.
Around late-15 early 16 is when I began to find story websites like nifty and later this one. It's only after reading a fair bit of gay erotica that I started to think about things like anal sex and relationships that I'd never considered before. I also started to think about using the word "bi" for my own sexuality. I think growing up religious and rural made me rather reluctant to be gay so I denied it/ didn't even recognise it until fairly later.
At 16 I had my first sexual experiences, with a girl and with a guy. The girl was drunk and "in my face" and I was really scared and timid and didn't want to do anything but tried it. The guy was forward, too. But I wanted him so I joined in. My feeling about both of these experiences is what confirmed to me I was gay. I loved Matt and that confirmed to me that I would want a gay relationship. I don't know if the fact that the girl was drunk and mostly a stranger coloured my interpretation of my own reaction, but it's doubtful. In hindsight I always have been gay, it just took those experiences to realise it.
So in summary:
I "knew" I was gay due to the nature of my fantasies at a young age- I just didn't use the word.
I started being physically attracted to guys before I realised I was.
It took sexual experiences with a guy for it to be "confirmed" but I first started using the word gay after I found the internet.
As for what affected the outcome, if there is any nurture factor it almost certainly has to be from my childhood. Otherwise it is just my nature. I think I could have potentially been bisexual if I had different experiences- but I allowed myself to be socialised into an orientation binary and allowed that to be reinforced by my experiences. I do think that I was always more predominantly attracted towards males, though.
Look at this tree. I cannot make it blossom when it suits me nor make it bear fruit before its time [...] No matter what you do, that seed will grow to be a peach tree. You may wish for an apple or an orange, but you will get a peach.
Master Oogway
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saben
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On fire! |
Registered: May 2003
Messages: 1537
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timmy wrote:
> Back when I was 13 there was no trigger. I fell in love with the boy's arm hair first, and then the rest of him.
My sexual attraction never turned to love until much later, but I find this interesting because to me leg hair, arm hair, etc was one of the things I was first interested in. It was the "signs of puberty" in other boys that I wanted to see and experience. I wanted to know if they could ejaculate yet, how much hair they had, how big their dicks were. But the arm hair and leg hair was the only part of that process I could really see. So it became arousing.
I was most interested in the slower developers (but not the undeveloped). The ones slightly smaller than me or a year or so behind me. I can't think of anything that specifically fixated me on younger boys. It doesn't fit in with Freudian accounts- I didn't have a father which I'd think would make me like older guys according to a Freudian account. I have no special feelings towards my younger brother- no great closeness or distance. My mum is fond of younger guys, too. Perhaps age-attraction is just largely genetic like gender-attraction. I can't account for my age-preference in any developmental way- except that perhaps I started liking boys around that age and I allowed myself to remain fixated on them. But the same could be said about my gender preference more broadly...
Look at this tree. I cannot make it blossom when it suits me nor make it bear fruit before its time [...] No matter what you do, that seed will grow to be a peach tree. You may wish for an apple or an orange, but you will get a peach.
Master Oogway
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I was attracted to other boys, in a way that included but was not limited to their genitals, from as early as I can realy remember: certainly from aged four.
By the age of 11 I knew that there were homosexual men, and accepted that I was currently like that - but thought I'd probably grow out of it, as all the textbooks suggested that it was a "phase" a lot of boys went thorough. But I didn't think that there was anything "wrong" about it, and certainly was not shy about expressing my views whenever the subject of Law Reform came up. I was 12 when I listened to the various stages of the Bill making its way through Parliament on a little transistor radio under the bedclothes at night, and rejoiced when it evntually became the 1967 act which provided for limited decriminalisation of homosexual acts for men over 21.
At 13 I started a relationship with a guy some years older than me, and after many months of sexual tension we eventually became lovers. Unfortunately, the relationship was rather exploitative, in some ways abusive (he was only interested in boys going through puberty, it turned out). After that, I knew that my range of sexual interests would always include other males. I had the usual girlfriends, and boyfriends, and casual sex, at the end of the 1960s and early 70s. By the age of 21 my interest in women was declining, and it became obvious to me that the label "bisexual" that I'd been happy with for a few years was no longer strictly applicable.
I came out as exclusively gay just before my 24th birthday: as much a political decision as anything, because I was standing for election as a student sabbatical officer, and thought it expedient to clear the decks.I described myself as "gay" in my manifesto, which went to 100,000 students ... the first time I'd explicitly come out.
That was over 30 years ago, and I've lived, on the whole happily, as an out gay man ever since.
"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. ... Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night devoid of stars." Martin Luther King
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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Ah it wasn't a sign, nor a lack of a sign, of sexual development. That never crossed my mind. It was just downy, long, soft, blond and beautiful. It was unusual, in my experience of boys' arms, unique. We were neither of us very much into puberty, though ejaculation for me had started a good while previously. No idea about him.
This was the most non sexual awakening of adoration I can imagine.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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My coming out story also happened in stages. The process took place from the age of eight years old(maybe younger)to about sixteen years old.
I grew up in a small town in Honduras (look up a map for geographic location ;-D). While my family had enough money to put food on the table, we did lived in substandard conditions. Having shared this information, throughout my childhood, I spend the majority of time, playing outside with kids from the neighborhood. You can say I had a country(rural) upbringing, not distracted by technology, the media, etc. which I believe, allowed me to be a kid for the most part. My friends ranged from like six years old to about sixteen years, sometimes older. As it is the case with most young boys, hormones, curiosity, and silly games eventually lead to sexual exploration among the boys. I remember feeling so curious about my friends. I wanted to feel them; I wanted them to feel me; I wanted to repeat the good feelings I would get every time we did sexual things. However, at the time, I didn’t consider myself gay. I knew what gay was – boys that wanted to be girls and hence dressed like girls – and I didn’t fit in that category.
I moved to the United States when I was eleven years old. I moved to Los Angeles, CA, a substantially larger city than the small town I came from. By then, I was starting puberty which only intensified my curiosity for boys. Unfortunately, due to language and cultural barriers, not to mention I was shy too, I had a hard time making new friends. As a result, I kept my curiosities for boys a secret. It seems silly to me now, but at the time I truly believed I was the only one with those feelings  .
I finally acknowledged my sexuality (gay) in eighth grade. I started to realize that gay meant much more than boys wanting dress and be like girls. I wanted to have a relationship with a boy while most of my friends wanted to have relationships with girls. In addition, the internet opened the window to gay porn which only reaffirmed the idea that two boys having sex was such a turn on, I couldn’t wait to find a boy to do those things with. I remember in eighth grade, a girl from my class, bluntly expressed her desired be my girlfriend. I was so scared! She was very pretty; however, I knew I wanted to be with a boy and not a girl. There was no boy on boy action from the ages of eleven to about sixteen. I mostly played solo if you catch my drift. There was only boy I almost did things with, but things never developed more than just rubbing against each other with clothes on.
By the time I entered high school, there was no question I was gay. I wasn’t out to anybody, but I knew I was gay. The only gay people I knew were online, none in real life. My first boyfriend I met online – I posted about it on this forum – when I was sixteen years old. Everything changed in tenth grade when I met a lesbian girl in my class. I came out to her and then she introduced me to all her gay/lesbian friends in school. To my surprise, there were a lot of gay people in my school. I have no idea how I never noticed! Really, how blind could I be? Anyways, it was then when I truly came out. I didn’t scream it to the world, but I didn’t deny it if anybody asked. As far as I knew, everyone who knew was accepting of me.
p.s just because i miss living where i come from, i'm going to post some pictures.
[Updated on: Tue, 14 September 2010 20:30]
You don't love someone because they are beautiful, they are beautiful because you love them.
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I have waited for a while to respond to this post because I waited for a while in life to declare myself gay. I did that at age 27, after six years of marriage and at the behest of my then ex-wife. Confused? Well so was I.
Like many of the others I enjoyed a childhood exploring a fascination with the male body. I enjoyed getting naked with a friend when I was 8 and kissed my first boy when I was 10. I had no sense this was gay, it was all in fun, and when puberty came along the game became more serious.
At age 12 I had the Boy Scouts and swim team, both of them male activities, and they provided me with playmates. I had sexual activity with boys and a few girls throughout the high school years. We had sex and gay had nothing to do with it. College was much the same except there the guys I slept with were gay, I still didn't feel like one of them.
I worked with a young lady I admired, we married for all the wrong reasons. I remained faithful for five years and then I met K. I had feelings for my wife, but I had love for K, I think he was the first real love I ever had.
I told my wife I was in love with K and that I was going to ask her to divorce me. I never said the world homosexual or gay, that came six months later. My wife was a strict Catholic and divorce was forbidden except in extreme circumstances. If I was a homosexual that would be considered extreme.
I was asked to meet with a Church council and I refused, instead offering to make a written statement to them. They sent me a form to which I attached a statement saying I was a homosexual, gay, whatever they wanted to call it. Three months later I received a letter back from them in official churchy style. I had been excommunicated, that solved the wife's problems.
It was the first time I had declared myself gay and then the icing on my cake was the excommunication. I had hated the church ever since that religion teacher had tried to put his hand in my pants when I was 14 and then denied it when I told on him. Now I was free of them even if they saw it as them being free of me. I had never asked to be baptized, I felt vindicated.
So my 27th year was the big coming out party. I don't wear a sign that says gay but I don't hesitate to tell someone if they ask. I will also speak out when I detect homophobia.
To me being gay means living a life that is inclusive of straight people, educating them, giving them the proper perspective. No normal member of society would even think of stepping into the privacy of a heterosexual bedroom, I demand the same respect. What I do in the privacy of my life is my business, if others are nice to me I will share. Otherwise: No Tresspassing.
Age appears to be best in four things; old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read. (Sir Francis Bacon 1561-1626)
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ray2x
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Really getting into it |
Location: USA
Registered: April 2009
Messages: 429
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At six, I asked a neighborhood boy to play with me. I took him into our garage and we took off our clothes and enjoyed some touching and gazing.
At thirteen, I saw my friends naked for the first time, but I had eyes for only one very good looking boy.
At eighteen, I had my first job and couldn't take my eyes off this one guy.
My first year in college, a coworker introduced me to my first gay sexual encounter. We would be partners for about four years before we broke up.
I also had a few more sexual encounters with a few other guys, older and younger than me, over the few years inbetween boyfriends.
My second boyfriend was a guy I knew from high school. He was my most sexually satisfying boyfriend before he began to abuse me and by having unprotected sex with other guys and not informing me.
For about ten years, I was not having any sex with anyone.
At 35, I married my wife.
At 50, my daughter was born.
At 50, I realised that I was a gay married man with a child.
I knew I had a thing for males, but even with my wonderful first boyfriend, I wasn't thinking I was gay. So, at 50, that's my moment.
Strange?
Raymundo
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ray2x
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Really getting into it |
Location: USA
Registered: April 2009
Messages: 429
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I didn't answer the how did I know I was gay.
Well, I had a good online conversation with my first boyfriend. He stated that he wished we didn't split up and told me that he still loved me. I knew he was correct, and very much late. But it made me think about me and my journey and the fact of being gay just made a great deal of sense. My wife knew of my boyfriends so telling her wouldn't have made much difference. I did talk with a few old friends and they were OK. Mom and Dad don't know and that's fine with me. My brother might suspect but he's never brought up the subject. Some coworkers know now and all but one feel ok about it. You good fellows know and that's great.
Raymundo
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.. many of those that I most admire here at A Place Of Safety had told their of their own experience.
Mine own story is a bit convoluted; but, we eventually get there in the end.
I have been most fortunate to have actually encountered, and for all pretense and purposes "married", the straight man of my dreams; and I mean really, and truly, straight. His name was Jon (short for Jonas), stood at near 6'4", weighing 220 lbs., military-style shorn flaming red-hair, scintillating green-eyes; and the ubiquitos work-tanned and toned, smooth nearly hairless, freckled translucent satin-like skin most "rouges" are known for, and, which I would a long-time later come to know most intimately and love nearly as much as I did the man who sported it, him blessed with a glorious uncircumcised cock to die for nestled in amongst a very fine, yet delicious crimson bush abutted by the almost not there treasure trail to his navel; but, and I can't ever stress this often enough, he didn't have a homosexual bone in his body. I mention the foregoing, and the following, in brief, to set the background for your understanding of my knowledge and acceptance of my sexuality at a very early age, and how it has dictated all subsequent behaviour throughout the years. Some of this has been spoken of before and bears repeating once more; but, never in quite this detail.
That Jon fell head over heels in love with me, at age-16, was just as much a mystery to him as it was to me; but, fall he did, and in the process gave up most everything in his life as he then knew it; his family and birthright, his religion (but never his faith, and Lordy that man had faith in spades, so unlike any I'd ever encountered before, or have since), his citizenship. Everything.
I almost had literally run into him crossing the plaza in front of the Mormon Pavillion at expo'67 in Montréal, hurrying to keep a luncheon date with a school-chum in the restaurant at Katimavik (the Canadian Paviliion) at the Fair. Oh my God, more than forty years later I can still clearly see him almost magically appearing before me, right hand outstretched in greeting, starched white Pucci linen shirt, name-tag, what I would later learn was the Book Of Mormon clutched in his left hand, black razor-sharp double-pleated Cardin worstead-wool slacks, and black squared-toed Balençíaga loafers spit-polished to such a high sheen they could have sparked fires on an overcast day; and his smile, so warm, inviting, and willing, almost eager. Too eager. I stopped dead in my tracks, not quite knowing what to say as we clasped hands, and he stuttered haltingly "that he knew me." He had apparently recognized me the morning two days earlier when I toured through the Morman Pavillion, and he had since then been keeping an eye out for me.
Frankly, once I had gotten over the shock, I was sort of amused at his behaviour over my, not quite, celebrity status, and willingly agreed to meet with him later that evening for dinner, with my handing over my card and providing him with an address, suggesting we meet again at 7:00 PM in the main dining-room at my family's club, my treat his being a guest in the City and all, advising that I would leave his name with the Porter at the door. Surréal is what it really was. So far from where I had been when I had awaken earlier that morning to be quite nearly impossible. This was mid-April, I was in town for the Easter break from my studies, and would have to return to them in the southern Eastern Townships stradling the U.S. border at weeks close. Meet we did, dazzled he was, and to say a good time was had by all would be an understatement. Throughout the course of the dinner, and later at a quiet bistro in Vieux Carré over coffee and dessert, I learned that Jon played defensive linebacker on his High School team, was an avid swimmer and a voracious reader whose prime indulgence was his delight in hunting and fishing magazines that the local librarian held aside for him each and every month as they came in, admitting with some reluctance that he had recognized me from a fulll-page advertisment that had appeared late the year before in Argosy, just such a magazine (the same ad, and a series of others on that theme which had, in parallel, appeared in Field & Stream, Male, and a host of other figuratively speaking "Men's" periodicals), flogging the wares of a then little known Canadian Home Electrical Equipment and Hand-tools manufacturer that had just entered the U.S. market. He averred that it was his desire to know more about the youth in the photo and how he had come to be posing without a stitch on in such a manner that had etched my image into his memory, never, ever, believing that he might actually come face-to-face with me any time soon. My "Avatar", purposefully, at this Forum and other gay-themed venues where I subscribe, is taken from the negative to that advertisement. I was not quite sixteen at the time the photo-shoot was undertaken; my nascent "gay sensibility" would never have allowed me to turn down such an overwhelming opportunity to overtly express myself. Believe me when I tell you that Brent Corrigan had nothing on me in the lying department; and this was some 30-years or more before his infamous entry at Cobra Studios. The "slug" on the ad was "If you're bored, it's obvious that you're not using a COMPANY NAME!" The same ad, nearly 10-years later re-created as a poster-size print and sold in Head-shops all over North America was captioned "Am I boring you ... ?". Others in the series were tagged in a similar vein according to the power hand-tool then in my possession and whether I was seated, standing, lying prone, or in a squatting position as I'm in the advertisement he had seen.
Now back to Jon. He wasn't even supposed to be there; not yet old enough to Mission (and consequently serve on behalf of his Church) at the Pavillion. His eldest brother Aiden was a functionary with the LDS hierarchy in Salt Lake City, and was the cöordinator for their first-time participation at a World's Fair. He had brought his younger brother along getting him away from the family farm for a first-ever vacation designed to let him experience something of the World rather than remain isolated in the rural Iowa agricultural community of some 10,000 souls where he was born and raised. My Easter-week with him was a haze of hasty get-togethers, dinners, théâtre and cinéma. At the close, we exchanged addresses and telephone numbers and I returned to boarding school whilst he remained at the Fair. My final six-weeks of the year's study was torture; his, at first weekly and then more frequent, letters kept me going. It being arranged that I would come to Iowa to stay with him and his family for a couple of weeks in late August and just before harvest. His family, and the community nearby were not ever going to be ready for the likes of me; this became all too apparent early in the days shortly after my arrival, and created quite a stir amongst the townsfolk and his family. In a nut-shell I was going to have to leave. Jon wasn't willng to let me go. His family fought amongst themselves over the dilema of just what to do with me in the interim. I decided to return to Montréal. Jon wasn't going to let me leave without him. The two of us found ourselves seated in the departure lounge of O'Hare and my speaking with my father asking him to arrange for a second ticket, as I was bringing a guest with me. He did, we did, and the second battle amongst our families was about to begin.
It would be prudent to tell you just a little about me before we continue.
I came out of the closet in "fire-engine red" diapers, at the least I did when my mother could keep anything on me at all. My earliest years were spend in a logging camp north of the 60th parallel on Canada's West coast and as I grew older she put a harness on me and tied me to one of those wheel thing-a-ma-jigs on a retractable clothes-line, the kind which you seldom ever see anymore, at least she did until I learned how to undo the harness, and then shed my clothes. In essence, I've been gay since before I could walk, and once that milestone was achieved there was simply no holding me back. The nub of it all was that no one ever acknowledged this, nor paid a shot-glass' worth of attention to my being as I was. I simply was, what I was, Period. Like most young boys, I had curiosity; shopping bags full of it, and I loved seeing my buddies (and just about every other male too) naked, and partook every opportunity to indulge in this pastime. In addition to this, I incurred early onset puberty, had hair sprouting under my arms and around my crotch and my first full-blown ejeculation by age 10 and was shaving full-time at eleven. Needless to say this made me most precocious. It also made a target of all my brother's friends, many, if not all of whom, I commenced sucking-off at the earliest, and each and every, occasion.;I was becoming known to be quite the little "cum-puppy" and it had gotten so out of hand to the degree that my brother was beginning to question whether they were actually coming to visit him or me. In response, it was thought by the family that Boarding School would cure me of whatever it was that was ailing me and straighten out my behaviour. Little did they know, with me soon after my arrival taking up nightly station in the communal washrooms of the dormitory where I was then sheltered, servicing all-comers until the early hours of the morning. Three years in would find me crashing into Jon at expo'67, and the rest as they say is history.
Upon our return to Montréal from Iowa, Jon and I were met with the extended clan, gathered in the salon of the family home in the Town of Mount Royal. My father was simply livid at my perceived behaviour in Iowa and very nearly came to blows because of it, with him screaming "that no son of his was ever going to be queer if he had to beat it out of me", at which point Jon stepped in front of me, cautioning my father with his glare. After an hour or more of our enduring my father's invective, my Grandfather stepped into the fray, suggesting that as the family had considered me to be an adult when I turned age-12, and had expected me to act accordingly, it was apparent to him that I had therefore made an adult decision in bringing Jon home with me to seek refuge in my father's and mine home, and as a consequence it was beholden of the family to rally round and support that decision, effectively silencing, and over-ruling, my father at one and the same time. My father would never have questioned my Grandfather's authority in these matters, and remained mute thoughout the remainder of the evening. Present at dinner that night were my only Aunt, father's sister, and her husband and their only son, on my Grandfather's side of the family, several of the Great-Aunts and -Uncles on my Grandmother's side, and two of their children, one of whom had recently been appointed, then Prime Minister, Pierre Elliot Trudeau's personal body guard, and who would remain in that position until M. Trudeau's death at age-80 in 2000; this in addition to several household staff, and company functionaries.
Upon awakening, next morning, after a night of heady, and feverish, lovemaking (in truth, our very first, and only time, since meeting in April), Jon and I were set terms by my father over an early working breakfast. Jon and I would not be allowed to again occupy the same bedroom for the duration that we continued to live under his roof. Additionally, having late last evening spoken with Jon's father, he would immediately set his legal beagles to resolving Jon's status in Canada, and have him declared an emancipated teen, effectively severing any remaining ties to Iowa. Jon would be enrolled at Boarding School as I was, but not the same one, and would be shipping out to Lennoxville later in the week just as I would be heading to Rock Island at about the same time. Father would bear all cost of supporting both Jon and I only so long as we both remained in school and attained better than a "B" average in our grades. If either one, or both, of us were accepted at a college of our choice, he would continue supporting us financially in that interim under the same terms. If Jon and I chose to cohabitate as a couple at any time, we would be required to move out-of-province, into accommodation of our own choosing, which he would purchase on our behalf; but, we could not cohabitate in the same city or province that he and my mother were then residing. My Grandfather, Jon and I agreed to these terms; but it would be a little more than a year before he and I took up residence in the eastern suburb of Toronto known as Scarborough, where I returned a little over five years ago, and continue to reside to this day, some 30-years after Jon's death.
In the not quite 11-years Jon and I were together I never once laid a hand on another man; that that could not be said of the half-dozen or more years predating him speaks volumes respecting my baser instincts and a pattern of behaviour I would repeat once I had come to terms with his death and my grieving subsided. Jon was hitherto, and remains, the only man to ever take me anally, and the only man I've ever really, and truly, loved with body and soul, leading to an extant and lifelong journey made entirely alone.
My two children, adopted in my middle years and some 7-years after his passing became the steadying and maturing influence that his death had made impossible. In life he had been my harbour, my home, and I had spent the first 17-years of my life ruthlessly searching for him simply because I knew, and held it to be true, that he was out there somewhere waiting for me to find him.
Warren C. E. Austin
The Gay Deceiver
Toronto, Canada
[Updated on: Wed, 15 September 2010 10:30]
"... comme recherché qu'un délice callipygian"
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All i can say is... thank you for sharing your story. It moved me in ways i can't describe.
You don't love someone because they are beautiful, they are beautiful because you love them.
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Benji
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Likes it here |
Location: USA
Registered: August 2007
Messages: 297
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..I knew by age 7 that I s was attracted to boys and wanted to see them naked. I convinced a 6 year old that his underwear was on backwards!! Haha! I have no idea how I came up with that! But i remembered he pulled then down anyways and 'no!' By 12 years old I new I was in trouble, the boys were talking about the girls and I just wanted to look at the boys. Jr. High was really tough for me, as we all showered after gym back then. Lucky for me, I only had a crush on one boy back then...and I avoided him like the plague, because I knew if my feelings for him ever got out, I would have been beaten up real bad or even killed. Can't remember if he showered or not after gym class, I do know I never saw him in the buff, thank g-d! I just know that I never popped on in gym class...until one day. Fucking coaches decided one day we were going to practice wrestling and he partnered me with HIM!! OMG! I was terrified, but my mind help me resolve it, I quickly pinned him and did the same to him again when he had the upper position, I thank g-d for those long wife beater shirts we wore. After the 2nd pin, I asked my coach if I could get some water, as I was breathing real hard and flushed over a 2 minute drill. I remember how he looked strangely at me but told me to go ahead. I never finished the rest of the class, instead I took a shower alone and took care of business, dressed and left. I stayed the hell away from him for the next 5-6 years. Hahaha! Funny thing is at our 20th H.S. re-union, I find out he has never married, Hmmmmm!!! 
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Benji
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Likes it here |
Location: USA
Registered: August 2007
Messages: 297
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Great story Warren, Wow, it is almost unbelievable!!
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