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First times, first loves.  [message #70821] Sat, 16 January 2016 06:02 Go to next message
Smokr is currently offline  Smokr

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Let's open the dialog on first sexual experiences with someone else, and your first love, if they aren't the same. If Timmy finds any posts in this topic inappropriate he should feel free to delete them or ask the poster to modify them. Or do it himself.

I'd like to hear about your first sexual experience with another person and/or your first requited (returned, fulfilled, consummated) love. Or your first love that was one-sided and unfulfilled and secret. No smut, no details on the activity, just your age and the age of the other, and how it came to be.
Take my post as an example. I'll make it a four part post, as you will see why.

My first experience with someone else was with a girl at a lake over the summer when I was twelve. She was at least sixteen, and caught me didling myself behind the beachfront store where I thought no one ever went. Id' found a porn mag earlier and was looking through it with my hand down my pants. She then proceeded to teach me quite a bit about her body and my own using our hands, and then performed oral on me. It was less than an hour. I never saw her again and we didn't tell each other our names. It was something that today would get the girl arrested for indecent activity and/or sexual molestation.

My second experience was with a boy at summer camp the next summer. I was thirteen, and deep in puberty. He was probably sixteen, at least. I was in the woods away from the camp grounds where we were told not to go, and I ended up catching two boys from the nearby upscale academy doing what boys do, right there next to each other. The smaller and likely younger one helped the older one out orally, and I watched, and got caught. I was forced to service the bigger boy orally. It was a situation nearly anyone would call being raped or molested. It was frightening, but I liked it too. The fact that I liked it scared the hell out of me even more. It was the real catalyst that began my fight with being gay.

The third time was also at that camp, and happened just a couple days later. It was the first time I did something consensual with someone. I was acting oddly I guess, and the guy I was becoming friends with could tell something was up. We had a project that required we spend a night watching stars and tracking them over a period of time, recording their coordinates (ascension and declination etc). When we finished, we crawled into the tent and ended up talking, and he got me to tell him what had happened. I was crying some, and he put his arm over me, and told me it was going to be okay. I told him I thought I was going to be gay because I didn't hate what happened and wished it had been without being forced. He told me he'd done stuff like that with friends before, and we ended up together in the sleeping bag all night, and every night after that until I left the camp less than a week later. We did everything we could with hands and mouths. I wondered if I was falling in love with him but I didn't think so. It was sex and friendship and support. He was from Germany but had been in the USA for a couple of years. I never heard from him again as I forgot to get his phone number or address. I wondered a lot if he ever thought about asking me for mine.
It further fueled my struggle with becoming a homosexual. My parents were very against such things. I had a cousin who was ostracized by them for it to the point they avoided any family functions (including holidays) at the homes of that side of the family. I couldn't be gay, my parents always told me that it was one of the worst things a person could be. They'd rather have a liar and a crook for a son rather than a homosexual.

My first real boyfriend came along at fourteen, after my first year of high school. (grade 9) He was from Georgia and visiting relatives for a couple of weeks during the summer. He was sixteen.
I was walking my bike through the grass and trees of a park on the way home from the corner store when I saw him on the swing set, sort of swinging but not, all alone. It was like your first glimpse of an angel. His bright strawberry-blond hair glowed in the sunlight, and his green eyes were so penetrating, even from across the twenty feet or so that separated us, that I felt like he was staring into my soul. He looked like he was going to call me a bad name, then suddenly he looked like he was an old friend who hadn't seen me in years and had missed me. I can't explain it better than that. I stopped in my tracks. I had to see him up close. I angled closer and started walking, and I kept glancing at him, and he was glancing at me. I had to talk to him. I stopped near him, but far enough I could get away if I wanted to. I said hi. He smiled and said hi back. I don't remember what we said next, I just remember asking him after a bit if he wanted to get something to drink. And his smile when he nodded yes. And walking back to the store, but with him next to me this time. And I remember how I felt like I could tell him anything, and I wanted to tell him everything, and I wanted to know everything about him. Everything!
We bumped into the neighborhood bully at the gas station/convenience store. He hated my guts, and I hated his. He called me a fag, and asked if I had a new boyfriend. I was so angry he was ruining things, and at his wording, and being called a fag in front of this incredible guy, that I told him to go fuck himself, and I said something else I can't remember, because I just hated he was ruining such an incredible time with this incredible guy I'd just met and was becoming friends with. He chased us out of the store. We hid behind a dumpster around the corner, in a small cubby, and waited. I don't think he followed us out of the store. We were so close to each other, our sides and legs touching in the close space, breathing hard, and we kept giggling. We ended up kissing. I don't know if I leaned toward him or he leaned toward me, or what, but suddenly our lips were touching and I felt like everything was different, better, more wonderful than ever. And I was getting aroused like never before. And I couldn't breathe, was sweating, shaking, and worried I would throw up in his mouth.
He asked if anyone was at my house. I said no, my parents wouldn't be home from work until almost six. We pretty much ran to my house. You can guess the rest.
He was the first boy I ever really kissed, and we kissed a lot. And hugged a lot. We slept in each other's arms. I felt things for him I never knew a person could feel. We told each other we loved each other. It was another short thing, like the guy at camp, but far more emotional and involved. We did everything together in bed. I swear I could feel his eyes when he looked at me. Everything about him was perfection. I never let him come to my house when my parents were home, ever, not once. I told him my parents were strict about visitors and I couldn't have someone over they didn't know, and other lies. I just couldn't stand the thought of him meeting my parents. I was terrified they would tell he was gay somehow, and that we were gay, and that I was gay. We were together at my house during the days, and I stayed over with him at his aunt's house every night, telling my parents I was staying over at various friends' houses. I got my friends, the few I had, to agree to say I had been there but left to go somewhere if my parents called. I called several times a day to cover my tracks. I hated to lie to my parents, but I was so wrapped up in how he made me feel that I had to be with him. It was probably the first big lies I'd ever told my parents.

[Updated on: Sat, 16 January 2016 06:10]




raysstories.com
Re: First times, first loves.  [message #70822 is a reply to message #70821] Sat, 16 January 2016 17:54 Go to previous messageGo to next message
timmy

Has no life at all
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13739



My first experience was plain wrong, and was with a girl, at a party, in full view of everyone else, to prove I was not gay. I proved ot to everyine except myself, leaving the used condom behind. People were disgusted with me, and I was heterosexual.

I hurt myself, but, more important, I hurt the girl badly.

I have never had the chance to apologise to her, but I owe it to her even today.

We were about 17. I am afraid she probably loved me. I know I used her.



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
Re: First times, first loves.  [message #70825 is a reply to message #70821] Sat, 16 January 2016 21:58 Go to previous messageGo to next message
James Matthews is currently offline  James Matthews

Toe is in the water
Location: United Kingdom
Registered: May 2015
Messages: 93



I know it sounds like shameful advertising, but if you have ever read The Saturday Boy that pretty much (loosely) sums up my first encounter/love. But to leave a post just saying that would be cheap so I'll continue.

I was fourteen at the time. A time and age which was both confusing and exciting rolled into one. I was dating a girl at school who actually, despite me probably knowing i WAS different I tried to suppress it. It was a task that wasn't so difficult actually apart from when I was in the company (or even within 30 feet) of this particular guy. 

The Pub Joey works at (in TSB) was based on a pub where I met my first crush. When I was younger I lived in a small village which as I remember it, consisted of 11 pubs and a few shops for food, pets and knick-knacks. This was well before the modern housing estates were built around the outskirts making the central village that much busier. No, this place at the time was an environment where most people knew each other, but more importantly housed the community's favourite pastime drinking. Yeah, the small village where I lived has a pub ever few hundred feet, and I am not kidding when I say that if you wanted to test out the closeness of each one to the next, you could probably throw a golf ball from one, and hit the one up the street and repeat that process with the next one.
 
The pub my parents drunk at regularly was called the Sand Castle (name changed for the purposes of privacy). It was owned by a middle aged couple that my Aunt (Mum's sister) was close friends with. Because of my Aunt's friendship with these people it developed into the natural place for my parents to drink.(and yes you need to understand that most of our parents in our village went to the pub most nights because there was nothing else to do). The Sand Castle was where I met my first crush. His name was Jay (Name changed). Not only was Jay my first crush, but I still believe to this day I was in love with him, even at the tender age of 14. Many will say I was too young to know, but in later years when I fell in love with my current partner of 12+ years it felt similar.
 
Jay was the Cellar boy at the Sand Castle. His job entailed the very same things you read about Joey doing at the Hungry Hog. He was an older boy, 16 at the time and I remember seeing him properly when I turned 14 because that was when I remember being actually allowed inside the pub. In the UK, 14 was the minimum age to enter one accompanied by your parents. Before that I was gated off in the garden area and left to play on the swings with a bottle of coke and a packet of crisps with the other kids that has been with their parents funny but I don't remember any of them.
 
In the Saturday Boy I tried to base Jack Stanton's personality as closely as I could with Jay because I found Jay quite Boyish if that makes sense, he came with a slight attitude and a subtle insecurity about himself which I found incredibly attractive. Not that Jay had anything to worry about. In my eyes he was god in human form and I think he actually gave himself less credit that he deserved when it came to his looks.
 
Anyway getting back to point, I remember clearly being at the pub one particular night some 2 months later. By this time I had made it my priority to get to know Jay, even asking the owners of the pub Keith and Rose (names changed for privacy) if there was anything I could do to help out. I used to spend time just sitting there chatting to Jay while he did his little job inside the pub occasionally offering to help with anything that I thought I could assist with. That particular night, I remember he had had an argument with his mother about something and was in a pretty shit mood. I tried to make him laugh and change the subject until he was able to crack a smile or two. I had asked him that night if he wanted to go to a new youth club that had started a few weeks back to give me a chance to hang out with him some more. I really expected him to say no because I was this stupid kid 2 years younger than him and I'd seen his friends at school by this point and it was obvious they were a lot more interesting than me. I say interesting in the sense that they were into sports, smoking, talking about girls and sex and I was into computer games and bike rides. But, he just shrugged saying "why not"
 
An area of Jay's personality that I didn't show in Jack's so much was his reluctance to be seen with me during school time. Although Joey had the same issues with Jack to start with regarding Joey knowing Jack was gay and choosing not to be his friend, he never felt embarrassed to be seen with Jack. Jay on the other hand would not be seen talking to me in school. It actually broke my heart on an almost daily basis because I used to become pretty much invisible, left only to watch him play yard football with his mates from a distance and daydream. Then at the end of school he could run to catch up with me on our way home and pretend nothing had happened. Because of the way I was starting to feel for him I used to tell him it was no sweat even when he refused to admit his behavior towards me was anything but normal.
 
At the first night of the youth club we met at the pub after he had finished what he needed to do there. I had asked my parents whether Jay could stay for a sleep over as it was a Friday night and school was finished for the weekend. We planned after youth club to get loads of junk food from the local convenience store and go back to my place to play video games.
 
On that day I'd asked him if he wanted to sleep over at mine I knew straight away that the only reason he'd said yes for was two reasons. I was paying for the junk food and he was still at odds with his mother. Maybe I am cutting myself short there but up to that point he had never really shown an interest with wanting to spend THAT much quality time with me.
 
I think I need to explain that at this point our "relationship" (2-3 months after we'd met properly) was very much one sided in terms of the effort put in. He was happy to spend time with me if he didn't have anything better to do or if his mates were off doing something else, but to him, I was not really a friend in the sense of types he already had. I was more like a stop-gap, a reserve stimulant... I was someone to pass the time with.
 
Our night at the youth club and the subsequent sleep over would reveal more about him that I was planning, or even prepared for. Before you all think it, no, unfortunately he did not declare his love for me lol. When I say it revealed more about him to me I mean in a way that once we were back at my parents for the start of the sleep-over, we began to talk between playing computer games and eating. It was that kind of quiet tired talk. My parents had long since been back from their night out at the pub and it was dark and quiet in my room. After a while we left the game on pause and just had it on for the light from the TV. I set up his Z-bed and continued our conversation about various trivial things I cant even remember now. One thing I do remember, which is as sharp in my mind now as it was back then was the point where his bed was set up and get decided to get undressed ready to get into it. Without warning he gripped the bottom of his pullover and t-shirt and slipped them over the top of his head. From brief moment his head was inside the material I was able to peek at his upper body for the first time.
 
Jay was around 5ft 6ins and what I have come to describe in my stories as very well packed. He was not muscly but well built in his upper regions as that's what I remember about him most. He was defined, but not through exercise. He was one of those very lucky people that seemed to "just have a nice figure."
 
Next came the point where he began to unbutton his jeans. I remember them being blue Levi 501's, only because most jeans in the 90's were zip up and I was surprised that his had buttons (funny what you remember). Underneath his jeans was a well-built pair of legs. Now I don't know when this developed in me, but I am a lover of guy's legs. It's by far my favourite part of the male body and you'll see me write in detail (in most of my stories haha) about the size shape and hairiness of a boy's pair of legs. Jay was 16 and had the legs of a man. 2 well defined calves which were not to muscly were covered in a thick layer of wiry blond hair, something I found so attractive, even back then when legs were not on my radar yet. His knees were beautifully cut into his leg joints which avoided that unattractive knobbly part you often see.
 
Altogether he was someone you would want to eat it was that much of a turn on. I remember him being smooth chested like a baby but with this hairy lower body with that really sexy snail trail that went from the belly button down below the boxer shorts. Speaking of boxer shorts I remember him wearing plain green "classic" boxers which were just a loin of material with a button holding closed a piss hole. In fact back in the mid 90's I think the only stylish underwear you could buy was Calvin's and neither his or my parents could afford those. Regardless though, whatever underwear he had on I'm sure you can imagine it didn't make much difference to me.
 
Once he was in bed I asked him if he wanted to talk some more or whether I should turn the paused game and the TV off so we could get some sleep. I remember him saying he didn't mind. I on the other hand couldn't wait until the TV was off so he would go to sleep because I had a dick that was not going to be satisfied until I had taken care of it.
 
As I lay there on my back I think its important to try and put you in the room with me. Here was a guy that was 2 years older than me, a straight macho guy who wore aftershave which was like a love potion to my senses. A guy that had a fit body, hairy in all the right places and someone I respected too, lying less than 2 feet away from me. How I managed to control myself and not just ask him if I could do things to him is beyond me, looking back.
 
I had waited for about half an hour trying to listen to his breathing before I slowly began to take care of myself under the duvet I had over me. Unfortunately my new friend was not asleep and casually asked me if I was doing what I knew I was doing. I clearly remember feeling excited that he'd caught me, instead of the horror I thought I would feel. I was dying to know what this meant.
 
After asking me outright if I was jerking off, to which I replied "yeah, sorry" he again, casually said "Hmm, might as well join you." Which blew me away. Now don't get excited because when I say he joined me the most that happened was me watching his duvet twitch up and down while he slowly went about his business under the covers. As for me, I had already cum because I'd got that excited knowing what he was doing with me. I stayed silent while that young guilty and embarrassed feeling went through my mind due to the fact I had let out a light grunt when climaxing. My mind quickly turned to the noise he might make when he came, but apart from announcing he was just about to blow, nothing, not a sound came from him apart from a sigh a minute later as if he was relieved.
 
In the morning much to my relief but strangely disappointment, we didn't talk about what had happened the previous night. It was like it DIDN'T happen almost. We both woke up pretty much the same time and he left soon after to go home. It would be a week before I would see him again because he didn't seem to want to make contact after that night, and I knew why.
 
Not that a lot happened that night in the grand scheme of things, after all we didn't do anything apart from jerk off under our covers separately, but I did feel closer to him after our sleep-over. Because, before that little period started we had bonded as friends more that night than the whole time since we met and I had hoped he would feel the same. But it really wasn't to be.
 
As the months went on I was falling more and more for him and at the same time something that might surprise you started happening, commencing one Saturday afternoon 3 weeks after our sleep-over. He came over to my place for some lunch which I was pleased to make him as it was an excuse to spend time with him. Much to my surprise he asked me to come upstairs which culminated in him telling me to suck his dick. Now you might find that hard to believe having read the 3 paragraphs before but that's exactly what happened. He actually took me upstairs to my room with my wrist in his hand and "told" me to suck his dick. Ok, now two things here.... Blowjob means what at my age and HOW??? Second, I was about to see his dick, something he took no bashfulness in revealing to me from his blue adidas bottoms. It was around 6 inches but pretty thick and I remember thinking how the hell I was gonna suck it.
 
Anyway, this is not some fictional book of mine where I start feeding you a kinky oral sex scene. Actually in real life it was really quite awkward, not that enjoyable for me, plus, historically it was the start of him beginning to use me whenever he got horny. Yeah, and that's how it went on. It was one of those classic cases where one uses the other because that other is so wrapped up in them they'll do anything. For almost a year and half, maybe once every 2 weeks, I would be visited by Jay to "service" him. Looking back now I was so TOTALLY used lol. But the way I felt during that time, I was ok about it. I fancied the pants off him. Sure, I had to always bring myself off but as I got used to doing things to him and letting him do things to me (as in anal in the end) I did start to get pleasure out of it when I knew a little more about sexual stuff.
 
To conclude, when school finished we lost contact until I eventually found him on Facebook. For whatever reason, he had changed his surname back to his real dad's, from his stepdad's which is why I didn't find him until about four years ago. Jay is now 35 and lives in Australia. He is very much a straight man having married and had 2 children. He has also put on a substantial amount of weight and looks nothing like I remember that sexy good looking 16 year old boy with the nice bod. Which is why I wish I hadn't come across him on Facebook. Although I can still see him in my mind as he was all those years ago there is still a tinge of regret finding his pictures showing what he looks like now.

The sad thing is, as I get older I realize those were magical times that you can never ever get back because the innocence of those first emotions are old now. It's like when you play Monopoly for the first time. What an exciting game it is. Then years later you realize it is a game with no substance and really is quite boring. I'm not saying for one moment that my encounters and subsequent relationships were boring after Jay, far from it. But the newness of those feelings I think you can only ever capture once in your life with such intensity that 2nd, 3rd or 4th time round never feels the same.

So there we are, haven't I rambled on? lol 

Edited: Spelling.

[Updated on: Sat, 16 January 2016 22:00] by Moderator

Re: First times, first loves.  [message #70827 is a reply to message #70825] Sun, 17 January 2016 04:45 Go to previous messageGo to next message
Smokr is currently offline  Smokr

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Timmy, you only told us of your first sexual encounter. What about your first love? Or your first loving encounter?

WCW, what a bitter-sweet first encounter and first love. I wonder how many others have had similar situations where they were 'used' by a straight boy they felt things for, but enjoyed it anyway for the same reasons.
I could have done pretty much the same and just pointed people to a couple of stories I've written where the characters act out my first encounters. That makes me wonder how many of us who write stories put so much of our own stories into those fictions.

[Updated on: Sun, 17 January 2016 04:46]




raysstories.com
Re: First times, first loves.  [message #70829 is a reply to message #70827] Sun, 17 January 2016 09:57 Go to previous messageGo to next message
timmy

Has no life at all
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13739



Quote:
Smokr wrote on Sun, 17 January 2016 04:45Timmy, you only told us of your first sexual encounter. What about your first love? Or your first loving encounter?


--
You mean you have not read the section of the site that is about me? I met him in September 1965. We were the same age, though he was 9 months older. I adored him. He probably hardly knew I existed



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
Re: First times, first loves.  [message #70831 is a reply to message #70829] Sun, 17 January 2016 18:58 Go to previous messageGo to next message
Smokr is currently offline  Smokr

Likes it here
Location: the burning former USofA
Registered: July 2010
Messages: 399



Quote:
timmy wrote on Sun, 17 January 2016 04:57
"Quote:"
Smokr wrote on Sun, 17 January 2016 04:45Timmy, you only told us of your first sexual encounter. What about your first love? Or your first loving encounter?



--
You mean you have not read the section of the site that is about me? I met him in September 1965. We were the same age, though he was 9 months older. I adored him. He probably hardly knew I existed

--
Gah. That's taking the lazy route and sharing nothing. Well, not nothing, but you know what I mean.



raysstories.com
Re: First times, first loves.  [message #70832 is a reply to message #70831] Sun, 17 January 2016 19:12 Go to previous messageGo to next message
timmy

Has no life at all
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13739



Quote:
Smokr wrote on Sun, 17 January 2016 18:58
"Quote:"
timmy wrote on Sun, 17 January 2016 04:57
"Quote:"
Smokr wrote on Sun, 17 January 2016 04:45Timmy, you only told us of your first sexual encounter. What about your first love? Or your first loving encounter?






--
You mean you have not read the section of the site that is about me? I met him in September 1965. We were the same age, though he was 9 months older. I adored him. He probably hardly knew I existed

--
Gah. That's taking the lazy route and sharing nothing. Well, not nothing, but you know what I mean.

--
Well, I am not writing it all out again! He is the reason for this site

http://forum.iomfats.org/?t=getfile&id=2261&private=0

It's a tiny picture, but he is the boy I fell in love with, taken about four months before I met him.

http://forum.iomfats.org/?t=getfile&id=2262&private=0

And this is how he grew from age 13 in the tiny picture to maybe 17 with his hands on his lapels

Today? the boy seems to have gone from his picture. The promise of his youth has dissolved into his adulthood
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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
Re: First times, first loves.  [message #70924 is a reply to message #70832] Sun, 24 January 2016 07:49 Go to previous messageGo to next message
JaredDreamer is currently offline  JaredDreamer

Getting started

Registered: January 2016
Messages: 5



Smokr writes (and I'm going to try to follow instructions, even though the old-school boy sex writer in me wants to pepper it with smut), "I'd like to hear about your first sexual experience with another person and/or your first requited (returned, fulfilled, consummated) love. Or your first love that was one-sided and unfulfilled and secret. No smut, no details on the activity, just your age and the age of the other, and how it came to be."

My first sexual experience in the world was with a girl. I was 9. She was 7. It was in a tent in her back yard. She told me what to do. Her brother had "taught" her. 

My first sexual experience as a boy, with a boy, was the same year, when I forwarded her knowledge to two boys, one my neighbor, one my cousin, when I was 9 and they were 7. Talk about young beginnings.

My first unrequited love? 13 and 13. Alan. A classmate. He was so beautiful, I want to gush. I want to write "so" with a bunch of "o's" like a little girl. He was soooooooo beautiful. 1979. Feathered hair. He was so clearly gay, but he could never be that way. His family, his upbringing, his religion wouldn't allow it. Once in his house, with nobody home, we wrestled, we giggled, I pinned him. I kissed him. A sweet, long, tender, beautiful kiss. "The kiss you will compare all others to," wrote Stephen King in "Hearts in Atlantis," "and find them all lacking."

After I kissed him (and I know he loved and needed that kiss very much, as did I), he said quietly to me, "We can never do that again." And we never did. And I went home that night and cried myself to sleep, because it wasn't meant to be.

The first man I loved? I was 14 and he was 45. The story is beautiful and complicated and at times graphic, and probably doesn't belong here at all. But he was a beautiful part of my teenage years, and I wouldn't trade any of that experience for the world.

My first boy-girl sexual experience. I was 16. She was 14. We had sex during a Johnny Carson monologue at her friend's house where she was spending the weekend. In her friend's mom and dad's bed. She grew up to be a lovely woman and friend, and we're still in touch. 

But my first requited (returned, fulfilled, consummated) love, was actually incestuous of all things. My cousin and I, who started exploring each other at a very young age went on to make love all through our teen years and well into adulthood, and we are much older now, and two thousand miles apart, but when we see each other at 50 and 48, we're still as close as ever in every sense of the word. Sigh. I would have married him years ago, but that's not the way the world works.

Whenever anyone asks me "when did you lose your virginity?" it always stumps me for a moment. "Do you mean boy-boy, boy-girl, man-boy, man-woman, man-man?" 

We lose our virginity over and over again sometimes.

We fall in love for the first time...repeatedly.

Great question, Smokr. Thanks!

[Updated on: Sun, 24 January 2016 07:51]

Re: First times, first loves.  [message #70930 is a reply to message #70924] Mon, 25 January 2016 03:58 Go to previous messageGo to next message
Smokr is currently offline  Smokr

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Great answers, Jared! Thanks for sharing!
BTW, I was 13 in '79 as well. Wore feathered hair. Was kissed once by someone when we wrestled. I told him we couldn't do that, ever. My parents and upbringing wouldn't have allowed for it, ever. And having someone at school to mess around with or share those things with was far too frightening and risky. I was an idiot. There's another similarity too, but I'm not mentioning it in public. PM if you want to know it.
And I also have to hesitate when asked "When did you lose your virginity?"
At 12 with the girl at the lake, who did oral to me? At 13 with the boy who made me service him? Or the boy I did oral and hands with days later? But at least I can clearly say that at 14 Toby took what remaining virginities I might have had. All of them.
Never been with someone more than two years older than me.





raysstories.com
Re: First times, first loves.  [message #70975 is a reply to message #70827] Sun, 31 January 2016 22:08 Go to previous message
James Matthews is currently offline  James Matthews

Toe is in the water
Location: United Kingdom
Registered: May 2015
Messages: 93



"Quote:"
Smokr wrote on Sun, 17 January 2016 04:45Timmy, you only told us of your first sexual encounter. What about your first love? Or your first loving encounter?

WCW, what a bitter-sweet first encounter and first love. I wonder how many others have had similar situations where they were 'used' by a straight boy they felt things for, but enjoyed it anyway for the same reasons.
I could have done pretty much the same and just pointed people to a couple of stories I've written where the characters act out my first encounters. That makes me wonder how many of us who write stories put so much of our own stories into those fictions.

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I have always been turned on by the image of a straight man being seduced by a gay man. I don't know why, maybe it's because of the forbidden fruit aspect. Almost all of my "encounters" when I was a kid at school have been with guys that have grown up and got married and had kids. I often wonder if they occasionally have images of those events come into their minds when they are out with their wives or taking their children to the park. The fact that another male's hand was on more than one occasion wrapped around their cock... a cock that since then has only been exposed to a woman. It's a kinky thought. 

I would also note in this context of how disappointed I feel that such beautiful good looking teens I went to school with have ended up rather differently when I look at them now. It is the old cliche that from an ugly duckling comes the beutiful swan. I feel in so many cases this is BULLSHIT!! It's the other way round! lol. *sighs* Straight men really do not know to look after themselves as they age, fact! Meh, or maybe they just don't care. haha  

[Updated on: Sun, 31 January 2016 22:14] by Moderator

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