We are back to my personal sex history from before the blog.
Timeline: 1980-1984
Right around the time Rob and I settled fully into our
relationship, my brother found another partner—and this one lasted. My mother had questions. But once she saw that we were committed and
happy, she was the perfect mother for two gay boys. She proudly talked about her ‘four sons.’ Other women at church tried to commiserate
with her—and she’d have none of it.
We made the family Christmas letter, where she was
slightly more reticent--and wasn’t sure how to refer to us. She didn’t like ‘Partners,’ as it sounded
like business. ‘Lovers’ was too strong. ‘Significant
Other’ had not yet been coined. My brother had moved into his lover’s house so ‘House
Mates’ was easy for them. For Rob and me, with our peripatetic existence,
we were christened ‘Partners in Crime.’
We loved it.
The rest of our small family welcomed the two new additions. It was an amazing feeling of relief and
delight.
*
We were still at the dinner theatre, where we lived
and worked, all in one building. Once
again Rob and I were around each other 24 hours a day—and it was just fine. The rest of the cast was also housed in the
other rooms on the second floor, where we shared a communal kitchen, so you had
plenty of time to socialize with others.
After I had caught Rob with another guy’s dick in his
mouth, (see the last installment) we had talked a lot about our sex life. He was totally open to including another guy
in our bed—if we both wanted him. It
happened faster than I expected. A cute
guy in the cast had a rather drunken late-night talk with Rob. (I’d gone to bed.) The guy didn’t know where he’d get any dick
in this rural part of Michigan. Rob
suggested mine, as long as I was agreeable.
He came to bed and woke me to tell me that Randy wanted both of us. I found it hard to go back to sleep.
The next day, the three of us talked a little more. It was agreed that we’d keep it oral. Randy went to shower, as did Rob and I. We had the only double bed in the housing—so
Randy came to our room. It was a fun
oral romp. I loved never knowing whose
mouth was where…
Randy was a size queen, using our 1980’s terminology,
and he wanted me in his ass. I looked at
Rob. After all, it was not what we’d agreed. “Do it,” he said, “I want to watch.” Randy sat on me carefully, groaned and began
to bounce. Soon, I flipped him over and
pounded his ass. Rob stroked the entire
time, his eyes riveted on my cock slicing into Randy. I got Randy on all fours, and Rob squirmed under
him to suck him as I fucked. Randy
shot. Rob shot. And I shot deep inside Randy.
We never did it again.
I was not happy about the shit on my dick. I so wanted Rob to suck on me after the fuck
but there was no way. Years ago, in one
of my dad’s gay novels, a motorcycle gang had gang fucked a young kid. They made him clean their ‘shit flecked dicks.’ (I still remember the phrase after all these
years.) I knew that was not for either
of us.
The threeway did do two things for us. Rob commented that he loved the look on my
face as I fucked ass. It was obviously
something I loved—and he was sorry he couldn’t give me that pleasure. (This statement would come back in years to
come.) We were also pleased and proud that we had had no jealousy issues. At all.
*
In the summer of 1984 the musical director, who lived
in the Detroit area, arrived to begin rehearsals. We were doing a show with a number of gay
guys in it. He called the six of us into
his room and said that in the Detroit bars the talk was about nothing but this ‘gay
cancer’ that was happening. We had all seen
what little coverage the national press had done, but it was suddenly sobering
to hear it this way. He actually had
bought a box of condoms—and distributed them to us all.
Lightning struck and Rob arranged another threeway for
us that autumn. It was to be all oral—until
the guy saw my dick and wanted it in his ass.
I used the condom. A first. I hated the feel (I didn’t know they came in
sizes!) but I loved that the inevitable shit was on the latex, not me…
*
In this same time frame, we went to my brother’s house
for dinner. We had a great time relaxing
and catching up. H gave us a present of
a VHS tape. It was a bootleg copy of Leo
and Lance. Porn had found the home video market.
We went home and watched the first bit of it. Holy fuck!
I had never seen a porn movie/video before. Rob had watched straight porn (in movie theatres). Here we were at home—and our dicks came out. We jerked and jerked and finished in each other’s
mouths.
We became obsessed.
We rented tapes and duped them. (I
know, I know…) We soon had a huge collection. Rob loved the skinny blonds with big
dicks. He was fixated on those surfer
boys. Porn exposed me to men I’d never
seen before—different races, ethnicities, and uncut guys. I’d never seen a foreskin in real life.
Watching our latest dub was how we ended every
day. Rob with his glass of Scotch and me
with lube and the remote. Since we had
loved Leo and Lance we watched a lot of other videos by the same
director, William Higgins. We also went
through most of the early Falcon films.
Rob loved the oral build up and was indifferent to the
fucking. I loved it all. Somehow, the video store we went to, with its
limited supply of gay fuck flicks, had a Falcon with a fisting scene. (They were usually available on special order
only.) Rob freaked out. I was slightly squeamish about it but I wanted
to know more.
Porn opened up to us a world of men we had never
seen. And it reignited a lust for the
other’s cock in both of us. It was a
very good thing indeed…
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