Memories of Gay Sex

          I must confess. When it comes to remembering past events, my memory is a bit foggy. Memories can be funny things. Do our memories tell us what really happened, what we would like to think happened, what we fear might have happened or do our memories flat out lie to us?

          I have often thought that biographies and memoirs should be viewed with some level of skepticism. It is not that I would accuse a writer of intentionally lying. It’s just that memories are not infallible. The writer might think they are telling the truth when in fact their memory has inaccurate information in it. Another problem that can get in the way of accurately remembering past events is when the mind blocks us from discovering the truth. It doesn’t want us to know the truth. It believes it is protecting us. This can happen when trying to remember a traumatic event.

          Perhaps the only thing for a writer to do is to admit a biography or a memoir contains a fair amount of fiction. Does this really matter if the story is interesting? You be the judge – or not.

          The best sex I ever had with a guy was with TJ. Neither of us considered ourselves gay but we did have some fun together. See! I’m guessing here. I don’t know how TJ considered himself sexually.

          We were in our early twenties and were sharing an apartment in NYC off 2nd Avenue. Sharing the apartment was not done for the purpose of having sex. It was done to save money. The sex stuff came about as a result of TJ being an artist of some talent who asked me to pose in the nude for him. This was several months after we started sharing the apartment.

          When asked, I thought, what the hell and agreed to take off my clothes and lounge on my bed while he drew.

          As far back as I can remember, I’ve always been someone who likes to be naked. I will admit to feeling a bit self-conscious with me being naked and him being fully dressed. While he drew, we talked about what I have no recollection.

          Let me tell you something just in case you have never posed in the nude for anyone. There is nothing sexual about it. The effect upon you is the exact opposite from getting sexual aroused. After a while, you probably won’t think much about being naked.

          Okay. You probably want to know about the sex we had. That didn’t take place until much later after I posed for him. It happened one warm summer night when we were drinking beer, listening to the radio and talking about what movies we liked. I don’t recall who brought up the idea that we should take off our clothes and have some fun. It doesn’t really matter.

          I should stop here and say TJ was not the first guy I ever had sex with. That distinction goes to a “friend of the family” I spent a weekend with in Burbank, California. This was not a pleasant experience. It was not something I wanted or asked for. I can’t even recall what happened. Was I drugged? Maybe. I just don’t know. All I do remember was sharing a bed with him on Friday night, being shown around Hollywood on Saturday. Getting a bad headache when we got back to his place after driving up into the mountains and him giving me some pills for my headache. When I got up after laying down for a while, I felt good enough to have the dinner he prepared, along with a drink or two. Then it happened in bed that night.

          Then what happened?

          I can’t answer that question. I have been trying to recall for years and years without results. The only thing I do recall was having an orgasm. How he caused me to come, I don’t know. The only other thing I recall was that after coming I told him I needed to go into the bathroom to clean off the semen that was on me. That was what I said I was going to do and did do. But that wasn’t the only reason I went to the bathroom. On my way to the bathroom, I grabbed my clothes and got dressed after cleaning myself. I then left without saying goodbye and never saw him again.

          My head was a mess. I wondered and worried if I were gay. A few weeks later, I took a bus down to Tijuana, found myself a whore and was relieved to find I could still make love to a woman. But truth be told, the possibility of me being gay continued to haunt me all through the years between the “friend of the family” and TJ. After moving to New York, I would sometimes go for a swim and a sauna at St. Mark’s Baths, a notorious hangout for gays in the Sixties. Nothing ever happened there, although several times I did decline sexual offers. On a few occasions, I would sometimes knowingly go to a gay bar, have a few drinks, then leave without anyone trying to pick me up or me trying to pick up anyone.

          Then there was TJ.

          But before I get to the night with TJ, I should really go back before the “friend of the family.”

          Before the “friend of the family,” there was a guy I met when I was studying to be a Navy Corpsman in San Diego. He was probably the best male friend I ever had. We met in Corps school and spent hours together talking about philosophy, religion and all the arts, On weekend passes, we’d go into town where we would rent a room for the weekend, go to movies, even go watch a burlesque show, have dinner and get wildly drunk with booze, which he would purchase because he was of age while I was under 21.

          Nothing ever happened, even though we shared the same bed in the hotel room.

          But one day, one of his other friends and a friend of mine at Corps school, came up to me and said, “You need to stop teasing Merv. He is in love with you, you know.”

          Being totally clueless, I said, “Yea, well, I love him too.”

          It took some time before I realized our mutual friend was talking about sex, not love in the way I was thinking. Once it did dawn upon me what was being said, my reaction was to try to save a friendship on my terms, not on the terms Merv apparently wanted. So the next time we planned to spend a weekend together, one spent at a motel in Laguna Beach on the beach, I told him point blank about how I felt. I said, I think I said that I wanted to continue as his friend and did love him but was not about to have sex with him.

          You need to understand first off that I had no idea what two men might do together in bed. Except for masturbation, I had no sexual experience other than making out with girls. I was still technically a virgin.

          The result of that weekend and the conversations we had was the end of what had been a very close relationship. After Corps school, he went off to be stationed in Japan and I went off to be stationed at Newport, RI, and I never saw or heard from him again. I have often wondered how his life turned out and whether or not he might have ended up in Vietnam where many Corpsmen were killed.

          Moving right along and filling in some gaps, between Merv and the “friend of the family,” there were a couple of times when some guy would try to pick me up in a bar or a bus station – something about a young man who looks clueless, I guess – and losing my virginity with girls while stationed in Newport. Then came the “friend of the family” as related above. The only thing to add here is to conclude the incident with the “friend of the family” left a mark on me that I have never been able to erase, probably because I can’t remember any of the details. It left me wondering if I were gay or was I bisexual. During those times after I left the Navy, I was living in New York and would go to the Annex or a gay bar, I never felt any attraction for men. All of my interest remained with women.

          So now we get to TJ. Other than the “friend of the family,” TJ was the only guy I ever had sex with. Looking back at that night when we did have sex, which occurred a few months after he got his own apartment, the best reason I can come up with for letting it happen was to maybe find out what did happen with the “friend of the family” and maybe find out whether or not I was guy.

          So what did happen? We got naked and had some friendly oral sex.

          Now remember above where I said I have a difficult time when trying to remember details from my past life? What follows is how I imagine what took place.

          I don’t recall kissing. I don’t believe I ever kissed a guy on the mouth. But it is easy to imagine me finding myself lying down naked next to him and finding my face not far removed from his penis and testicles. I’ve touched my own enough times to know the best approach is to start by gently touching the cock and balls. No reason to hurry. Just touch, watch and see how the penis becomes a cock wanting more touches.

          A flaccid penis is interesting to look at but can’t compare to one that fills with blood, grows and becomes hard. I think it is one of the marvels of the human body. I have had women tell me that a penis isn’t much to look at and only becomes sexually exciting when it grows into an erect, hard cock. I would agree.

          Seeing TJ’s now hard cock was exciting me or maybe it was him touching my cock that was causing me to become sexually aroused. I thought, “Well, I’ve gone this far and might just as well go all the way and enjoy myself.”

          I think most guys would admit they would suck their own cock if they were ambidextrous enough to do it. I’m not one who is that ambidextrous so I decided to begin by touching the head of TJ’s cock with my tongue. Not much in the way of taste but it did feel warm and smooth on my tongue. This encourage me to start licking it up and down the shaft. This became fun as I continued to further explore by licking his balls as well as his cock. While I was having fun doing this, I was very aware of TJ doing the same for me. I don’t care if a woman or a man is licking your cock and balls, the feeling is the same. It feels nice. It’s nice to know that someone is willing to give you pleasure with their mouth. It is both exciting and relaxing.

          Let me digress for a moment hear. I think engaging in oral sex, be it with a person of the opposite sex or the same sex, takes us back to when we were babies sucking on our mother’s breast or sucking on our own thumb. It’s comforting. It’s relaxing.

          In this relaxed state yet being filled with curiosity and pleasure, licking graduated to opening my mouth to let TJ’s cock in. Don’t laugh but when I did this, I was reminded of what a guy friend of mine said about sucking on a woman’s breast. He said, “Whatever you can’t get in your mouth is wasted.” TJ’s cock was average in size, similar to mine, and I soon found out not much would be wasted and I could get most of it in my mouth without gagging. I liked having something warm in my mouth, having it rest upon my tongue. I pursed my lips around it and started letting it slide deeper in, followed by letting most of it slide out of my mouth. This was fun, kind of like playing an instrument. Is this why it is called a blow job, I wondered. I sensed his pleasure growing as mine was growing too. I wanted to come and I didn’t want to come. I wanted him to come and I didn’t want him to come. I wanted the fun and pleasure to last while I was becoming hungrier for the grand finale. It’s odd to admit but I must admit that sucking on TJ’s cock was making me feel extremely masculine and not in the least bit gay. It really was all about having some fun with someone I liked.

          How long did we engage in pleasuring each other and ourselves? I have no idea. What I do remember was me coming and him coming shortly thereafter. I don’t recall if I swallowed his semen but I probably did. So don’t ask how it tasted. I don’t know. The only other thing I remember was him asking me before I left for my own apartment, “Why didn’t you suggest this before I moved out?”

          I answered, “I don’t know.”

          But while walking back to my apartment, I thought I probably didn’t suggest it before he moved because I was fearful it might become a regular thing and I didn’t want that because I might then be or become gay.

          Isn’t this the way life works? You go down one path and not down another. Life is filled with incidents and the choices you make. You can tell yourself you know for certain while knowing you don’t. One thing is certain, I am glad to have found out that sex with another man can be fun and pleasurable. TJ was the second and last man I ever had sex with, and I thank him for the experience. Because of him, I lost my fear of gays and have come to know gay sex is a natural expression of desiring and wanting to be desired by another human.

          TJ and I continued to be friends and that continued even after I fell in love and married the woman I have been married to for over 40 years. I did lose track of him after the birth of my second child because my wife and I moved out of the city. Not until I started writing this did I decide to put his name into the search engine to see if I could find him and maybe find out how life has been. I did find out and sad to say, I learned TJ died at the young age of 47 in 1990.

          So now I find myself dedicating this to you, TJ. Thanks for the memories and I do hope you can look down on me with a smile on your face, and forgive me if I got anything wrong.