Being A Homosexual Growing Up In The Sixties

I grew up in small town USA with a normal small town family. I was always more of an introvert than the other, reading was my escape. I read books loaned to me by the man at the general store, books that dealt with homosexuals. There is always the chapter of the seduction, those chapters I read over and over until I knew them by heart. The Priest, the banker, the super in the apartment building, and always the quiet boy. I wanted to be seduced. I dreamed of it. In fact I had my first wet dream about it. The man who ran the store would leave on the counter for me to pick up, with whatever I bought. He would put his finger on it until I picked it up to take home. He let me borrow them and return them.

Later when I was older he let me borrow magazines of homosexuals. He rolled them up and put them in a paper bag so no one could see the titles. I waited until my parents were asleep and I would look at them under the covers with a flashlight. I looked at the penis in the picture, I never really looked at the face. I rubbed hard against the sheets until I had an ejaculation and then I would go asleep lying on my wet pajamas. When I was older he gave me a job after school. I had to work hard, he expected a good job. He had some new magazines, of homosexuals performing oral sex and anal sex. I always dreamt of the one with the penis in his mouth or the one on the bottom. One day he kissed me, it was a long kiss in the store room.

He loaned me books, long love stories of homosexuals. I read them two or three times before returning them for another novel. Magazines too, some were foreign, men from Europe or Turkey. He kissed me and grabbed my penis in my pants, sometimes he patted me, sometimes he pushed his hand into the crack of my behind. Sometimes he took my hand and put it on his penis in his pants. He was very careful, only after I turned 18 did he have me hold his penis and learn how to kiss it. Everything happened in the small storeroom, he would put a CLOSED sign on the door. That meant he was going to kiss me. I lost my virginity in the store room.

When I was drafted he talked to me, he told me I had a job when I got back. He told me to be careful, I had to be careful. No one liked a fag in the army. They would beat me up. I got assigned as a clerk in supply in Germany, typing up requisitions and inventory and other papers, all day, every day, except the day I got off. Maybe because I was small, I wasn't a warrior type. And I was a good clerk. I had a Sargent and he took my head and rubbed my face against his penis. But I remembered what the old man said, I didn't take the bait, I didn't want to get beat up. And I didn't like the Sargent.

When I was discharged and made it back I spent a whole afternoon at the general store, helping restock and order the shelves, a good amount of time in the store room. With the CLOSED sign on the door. I never knew that you could be hungry for penis, I was hungry and he was hungry. His penis looked so wonderful. He said he was Armenian. I worked there for several weeks after I got home but he told me to go to college, I was a good student and I had the GI Bill and I could go, I would be the first one in my family. And we would always be friends.

When I was ready to leave, I went by the store. He gave me a bag with some books, and some magazines, he said they were mine, to keep me company until I met some other people my age. He told me that maybe I would meet someone my age. To be careful, fags were treated bad, but he was sure there were other fags at the college, they always were. But try to meet someone my age, someone that I could think about when I was reading my books or looking at my magazines. I noted that the magazines were all of young men, this time I looked at the faces not only their penis.

College wasn't like the army, the young men were nicer and more educated and I met this one guy who studied philosophy. He was a faggot for sure, and I was the kind of fag he liked and we kissed in his room and I held and kissed his penis and it didn't end until we had copulated. He was my first boyfriend.