I'm Gay, I Know It. In The Closet.

This is a confession from my grad school days. A fellow grad student suggested we spend Spring break at his uncle's place in Belize. A quick flight down, a week at the beach, and back for class. I signed up.

We left that Saturday morning, caught a ride for the two hour trip to his uncle's beach house. We walked to the local store for beer and vittles. The front porch looked straight out to sea. The beers were gone by midnight. I slept until noon the next day. This was the life.

He suggested we eat at a local eatery. The place was small, along the beach front. A couple of mulatto girls became friendly. They walked back with us. My friend told me the whores were good and cheap. I went limp. She tried giving me a blowjob, nothing. It was dead. Never happened before.

The next day I told my friend and we got rid of the whores. We picked up another two whores from a different joint. Again nothing. Dead. I felt empty. It was ruining the trip. On Thursday we skipped the whores, my friend put on a fay porn video on the VCR. Watching these two guys groping, sucking, until one got in the back if the other one with closeups of them fucking. I said nothing, but that night I had a wet dream. In that dream I was the one getting the treatment. I woke up with my heart pounding.

We skipped the whores. The following night he had another gay porn video. But this time he whipped out and started jerking off. He offered me his dick. My heart was jumping out of my chest. He stood up and walked over to me, holding his fully erect and engorged dick and I acted without thinking. I sucked his dick.

I ended up under him. He was prepared and had some lubricant with him. He used his finger to grease up my ass before fucking me. I rubbed against the sheets as he fucked me and came in a painful ejaculation. We slept together and after we woke up he wanted a blowjob.

The next days were more sex, more videos, no talk of whores, he called me a queer ass, a faggot. He didn't consider himself gay, he was just enjoying alternative sex, whatever floated my boat.

After my return from that week I tried to put it out of my mind. I tried dating, but was too self conscious to take it to the next level. Night wet dreams were now about reliving those nights when I sucked his dick, and he fucked me. I couldn't shake it. I never had sex with him again, but he reminded me that I liked it.

It was in my thirties before I again participated with a man. He was a furniture salesman I met buying a sectional. I don't advertise myself. From time to time the urge overwhelmes me. I go to the gay section of town and wait until I'm approached. I only ho with men who are assertive and are instinctively tops. Until the next time.