We are back to my personal history today.
Before I backtracked and talked about my
father, I had just lost my oral virginity in a tent in Canada. I loved sucking a cock that wasn’t my own. Even if Theo hated to suck—he loved getting
off in my mouth.
I couldn’t wait to tell my brother. And I did, by phone, the moment I was in my sophomore
year dormitory. He was glad to hear it—and
had news of his own. He had been to the
baths in Detroit and had met two men he’d be seeing again. One was pure sex—using the phrase that he’d ‘met
his match’ for a guy with the same stamina.
But he was in love with the other man he’d met, Jerry.
Theo and I met up again when I came back home for a
harvest festival in my hometown. My
brother was there with Jerry so the four of us all met each other. Jerry was short with incredibly long hair
(even for 1976) and incredibly effeminate.
And he was a hairdresser. We
chatted and Theo was totally smitten with my brother. Oh, shit…
The man who both my brother and I thought was my dad’s
occasional or former sexual partner (and now friend of the family) arrived. He was the curator of a museum. My brother was working in the arts, back
then. Theo and I wanted to work in the
theatre. Jerry was a hairdresser….and
not once did anyone say anything that might be construed as gay. But each of us
knew…
In late September, my brother came out to my dad. Dad did not want this conversation in the house—and
insisted they meet in a big box store parking lot. It went surprisingly well, but he made my
brother promise never to tell my mother.
Did he think she was stupid? After
all, she’d just met Jerry…
My brother, on October 30th, took me to
Detroit. We picked up Jerry and went to Menjo’s,
a dance club, there. The big news was
only that, between the two of them, they got me relaxed enough to actually get
on the dance floor three times. I was
loosening up my very tightly wound closeted self.
I wanted sex—but didn’t know quite how to find
it. I had no car at the university and
Theo was not sure he wanted anything else after Canada. There had been no time to slip away at the
harvest festival—even if he’d wanted to.
But things changed during the week leading up to Thanksgiving.
My brother, in a new apartment and a new
roommate, called and wondered if I wanted to go to the Flame, the old dive-y neighborhood
bar, with the two of them. It was a
Sunday night. The three of us chatted. A handsome man, just a shade older than I,
arrived. Tom made small talk with the three
of us and I was pretty sure, that he had slept with my brother—and likely the
roommate. Well, he had eyes for me—and finally
popped the question. And I chickened
out. I desperately wanted to on one
level, but could not bring myself to commit to it. We all went for coffee, later, and Tom barely
spoke to me after my refusal.
Tuesday, November 23, my brother and his new roommate
(not Jerry, who lived in Detroit) and I went to the dance bar. I was determined to find Tom and say ‘yes.’ He was there—and looked right through
me. We sat down and instantly another guy,
likely 25 or so, came over. I had seen
him at the Flame on Sunday. He was thin,
wearing a very white tee-shirt and jeans.
My brother introduced him: Michael with a very long and hard to pronounce
Polish surname. He told me he had asked
my brother all about me—and he appropriated me for the evening. Even getting me to kiss him in public—another
first that I was careful to detail in my journal.
We danced. The four
of us went on the Flame—and then to a horrible greasy spoon. Michael asked the question: “What are
you doing tonight?” I said I had
roommates in a college dorm. Michael was
living in the kitchen of his cousin’s two room apartment. My brother rolled his eyes and said “Take my
bed.”
And we did. We
got naked. Really a new experience—not like
in the tent. We kissed—and I noted in
the journal that this time I felt like I knew what I was doing. My cock got
hard. And it was the first time I’d ever
heard, “Man, you got a big one.” I had
no idea that I had. He sucked me and I
him. He wanted me to fuck him. I gulped and began to get nervous. He had me lay on my back so he could sit on
me. He got me inside him-- and my
erection evaporated. He tried to coax it
back. Nothing. I sucked him and worked my finger up his
ass. He came like he’d not had sex in a
week. (And here’s a direct quote from
the journal:) “It was as he came that in the next breath, he said he thought he
was in love with me. And…I…fell asleep.”
We woke up and had sex again. I skipped my first class ever to do it. We took turns fucking our dicks between the
other’s thighs. That worked just fine
for me. He shot. I fucked his thighs using his cum for lube--and
I got really excited.
I finally got off with another man.
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