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Gay Stories
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Gay Male / 66
My Story, I Think Most Gay Men Have Similar Stories
I was abroad, in Chile. My work is with the shipping industry. I was at a port in the south of Chile inspecting a fleet of fishing vessels. I was at a small hotel, there are no big hotels in that village. I saw, that is I was outside catching some air before turning in for the night, these two men in their twenties, in a sexual embrace kissing. I watched, they were unaware of me. I watched as they kissed and their hands went everywhere, touching each other. I was so engrossed in the scene I was watching, that I didn't realize that I had cum in my pants, not until the cold winds alerted me.
That night, alone in my room, I masturbated for the first time completely engrossed in the scene I had witnessed. Imagining what came afterwards, as they found a warm place to continue. For the rest of my visit, and afterwards, I could not put that scene out of my mind, and it always aroused me into very intense masturbation. My mind, captured, I dreamt of being the passive partner, and ended up with his fellow on top of him. I was 32 then, single. But a door had opened, and I wasn't sure I could in real life go there. I masturbated. That was my outlet.
Time and travel led me to find places where gay men congregated, I was a fly on the wall watching them dance, and embrace, kiss and hold hands. I watched, a voyeur into that world. In NY, in Caracas, in China. There are gay men everywhere. Some were for sale, but I could not to through with it. I paid money to watch at clubs in Rio and Mexico, clubs for gay men, men kissing and performing gay sex in public. I watched and masturbated in Hamburg, at this club where the couple I paid for had complete anal sex right in front of me. My release, masturbation.
The internet or movies did nothing for me. Literature, the written descriptions, the lost loves, the search for a lover, those did interest me. And passages of gay men in erotic fantasy always did the trick for me. I turned fifty, still single, in the shipping industry, but with a position of much greater responsibility. I was in London attending an insurance meeting, and this man in his thirties was presenting. I went over to tell him I appreciated the work he had put into it, it was one of the very best insurance presentations I had attended. We talked, and agreed to having dinner. He was from Boston, of Lebanese descent.
The word I repeated to myself at the time, is that he was very virile. But his interest were not in the women around us, but in the conversation we were having. He knew of a club where he took me, this was a 'bath house', I had never been in one. Men half naked, men kissing and embracing, men performing fellatio, it was all there and he invited me into the sauna. Half the men there left the towel aside, as did my friend, his penis twelve inches from me. He put his arm around me and asked me if I wanted to give him a blowjob. Across from us was a young man on his knees, and an older man in front of him. He had taken my hand and put my hand on his penis.
Twenty years of dreams and masturbation, and I had a man in my hand and I was making love to his penis. I allowed him to take me to a small room with a curtain and completely have sex with me. The rooms were equipped with lubricants and condoms, I never asked whether he used a condom. We spent the night at his hotel room, and I had the walk of shame leaving in my rumpled suit the next day.
It's a memory I cherish, it broke the ice and I am able to circulate and meet men. At this age I much prefer men my age. It's the conversation that I don't like from the younger men. A man who is at ease with himself and we can share time together. I enjoy an afternoon naked with a man that wants to kiss, making love and just being together.
That night, alone in my room, I masturbated for the first time completely engrossed in the scene I had witnessed. Imagining what came afterwards, as they found a warm place to continue. For the rest of my visit, and afterwards, I could not put that scene out of my mind, and it always aroused me into very intense masturbation. My mind, captured, I dreamt of being the passive partner, and ended up with his fellow on top of him. I was 32 then, single. But a door had opened, and I wasn't sure I could in real life go there. I masturbated. That was my outlet.
Time and travel led me to find places where gay men congregated, I was a fly on the wall watching them dance, and embrace, kiss and hold hands. I watched, a voyeur into that world. In NY, in Caracas, in China. There are gay men everywhere. Some were for sale, but I could not to through with it. I paid money to watch at clubs in Rio and Mexico, clubs for gay men, men kissing and performing gay sex in public. I watched and masturbated in Hamburg, at this club where the couple I paid for had complete anal sex right in front of me. My release, masturbation.
The internet or movies did nothing for me. Literature, the written descriptions, the lost loves, the search for a lover, those did interest me. And passages of gay men in erotic fantasy always did the trick for me. I turned fifty, still single, in the shipping industry, but with a position of much greater responsibility. I was in London attending an insurance meeting, and this man in his thirties was presenting. I went over to tell him I appreciated the work he had put into it, it was one of the very best insurance presentations I had attended. We talked, and agreed to having dinner. He was from Boston, of Lebanese descent.
The word I repeated to myself at the time, is that he was very virile. But his interest were not in the women around us, but in the conversation we were having. He knew of a club where he took me, this was a 'bath house', I had never been in one. Men half naked, men kissing and embracing, men performing fellatio, it was all there and he invited me into the sauna. Half the men there left the towel aside, as did my friend, his penis twelve inches from me. He put his arm around me and asked me if I wanted to give him a blowjob. Across from us was a young man on his knees, and an older man in front of him. He had taken my hand and put my hand on his penis.
Twenty years of dreams and masturbation, and I had a man in my hand and I was making love to his penis. I allowed him to take me to a small room with a curtain and completely have sex with me. The rooms were equipped with lubricants and condoms, I never asked whether he used a condom. We spent the night at his hotel room, and I had the walk of shame leaving in my rumpled suit the next day.
It's a memory I cherish, it broke the ice and I am able to circulate and meet men. At this age I much prefer men my age. It's the conversation that I don't like from the younger men. A man who is at ease with himself and we can share time together. I enjoy an afternoon naked with a man that wants to kiss, making love and just being together.
