How I Lost It

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I thought I’d regale you with another memory from my distant past, this time to explain how I came to lose my virginity – my gay virginity that is, and this is what happened. It also explains why it is that I’m not the man I started out in life as; that my world has done a total flip! I’m not going to merely describe the sexy bits – to make sense of it all I need to provide the background too so I’m afraid I’ll rabbit on for a while…

Oh, by the way and for those of you concerned that I’m about to unload an under-age story simply because many people lose their virginity at an early age, this all happened when I was in my mid 30s during the 1990s – I was very late into the gay side of life!

The idea of gay sex wasn’t something that I grew up with and in fact, just like many young people back in those days I could only feel contempt for those of a homosexual disposition. However, later in life I found a desire to discover what happened on the other side of the fence so to speak and I soon changed my views.

Anyway, here I go…

I’d never been one for having loads of friends but exceptionally there was one really good pal in school whose company I remember clearly. He was Robert (although he answered to Rob) and he and I really lived twin lives. We were both the same age within about a month; we both lived in the same village; we were at the same school; were obviously also in the same year and we followed similar courses at college so we remained together throughout our education. We were really good pals who built up a strong bond of friendship and fun. Somehow, despite numerous mischievous moments we managed to leave our education behind with enough qualifications to see us both into secure jobs and it was only then that we parted company as his work took him to live in another town while I stayed put.

As young schoolboys we got up to all kinds of pranks – things that today’s kids never have the chance to try out but in those days were considered to be just normal childish fun. Things like knocking on doors and running away and removing milk bottles from doorsteps then drinking the contents and replacing the empty bottle were but a couple of the pranks we played. They’re things that just writing about take me back so smoothly – back to my childhood in the Britain of the 1970s.

Of course we boys weren’t much better behaved in school I might add, what with tying girl’s pigtails or laces together and drawing crude pictures in school walls and blackboards. Oh, there were vaguely sexy things like undoing girls’ bra straps with a quick twist of the fingers then acting innocent or running away laughing or seeing who could piss the furthest or trying to piss our names in the snow, side by side, but that was about all.

We did nothing sexual together – not a thing really – we were just too busy enjoying ourselves for such a triviality as sex, and most definitely ball games and water sports in those days had no alternative meanings. Individually though, my sexual energy seemed huge and by the time I was 18 I was wanking at least three times every single day and more often when time was on my side. My parents were both working in those days so, quite apart from that first-thing-in-the-morning wank, possibly one in the college toilets and another before I went to sleep I’d often make use of the several hours between getting home from school and my parents returning by stripping down and wanking to assorted scenarios. My favourite make-believe scenes were that I was doing it in secret on the school bus; or hiding silently from someone; or, using an entirely different scene to imagine I was doing it on stage or just in public somewhere. I never, however, included any other character in my wanking games, male or female…

Rob and I were fit and healthy lads and there was always a certain rivalry between us to perform the best – for example, I excelled in cricket while he was an ace at tennis but in other sports such as swimming and athletics we were very evenly matched. Both of us could swim fast and powerfully and could both run and jump exceptionally, our times for such events being within tiny fractions of each other but despite our competitive attitude our rivalry never turned nasty – whoever was beaten congratulated the winner warmly and willingly, knowing that next time around the tables would probably be turned.

Of course we changed, showered and dried off together but never did the subject of sex itself even vaguely arise, unless perchance to enquire in passing, if the other was dating that night. Oh yes, we both had girlfriends but neither of us really settled down with one girl – perhaps an early sign that we both preferred male company.

And then, as we began to grow into adulthood we mildly explored the subject of sex– comparing our bodies with those around us when changing at school and perhaps from glancing down to check on the other person’s penis as we watered the trough together – then quickly smiling together self-consciously but we weren’t truly casino oyna interested in such matters. Anyway, back in those days gay sex, or ‘homosexuality’ – a word that those in high places seemed to love to use because there was absolutely no ambiguity in it’s meaning – was not just frowned on but was actively and legally repressed so any such ideas were out of the question really. By the 1970s however, gay sex was more freely mentioned but it still wasn’t exactly suitable for mainstream chatter.

After our education was complete both Rob and I soon found jobs but we kept in touch and then Rob spoiled things by changing jobs again and moving to a near-by town. Somehow that broke our closeness and thereafter Rob and I went our separate ways leaving all our memories in dry dusty corners of our minds… That was the end of that phase of our lives so we were well and truly past ‘the age of consent’ and innocence before anything really happened…

As I grew up I enjoyed the favours of as many girls as I could I entice – then somehow I was marrying then divorcing and remarrying – and divorcing again. It wasn’t that I couldn’t be a good husband; it was just that after a while I’d begin to lose interest in my woman and hanker for the freedom of single life again – hanker for something different perhaps. A woman at home, however sexy and desirable, seemed to hinder my pleasure rather than improve it and the idea of being stuck with one woman for all my life soon turned from a pleasure into an idea from hell itself. By the time I was 35 I was therefore free again and fortunately, with no progeny to worry about, the break-up of the relationships had been relatively harmless matters.

It was also just after the time of my second divorce that my father died suddenly and as a result my mother decided that she didn’t need the big house all alone so she sold up and bought herself a pleasant little bungalow a few miles outside the far edge of town. The bungalow was far from ideal as a place to bring girlfriends back to, so I rented a poky little flat near my work which was better than nothing but before long Mum decided that with just her and her cats she simply had too much in her bank so she gave me enough to actually buy myself a home and some independence.

I paid for a very long lease on a nice studio flat which I then fitted out with all the accoutrements that a bachelor needed – a big TV and one of the new games consoles, some brilliant furniture; a small keep-fit zone and a comfortable king sized bed, all the better to relax in peace and suitably equipped to entertain my assorted lady friends. My life seemed to take a turn for the better now and before long I became well known for my string of pretty girlfriends – variety seeming to be the answer to my relationship problem. Mind you, I was looking pretty good too. I was just over six feet tall with a nicely toned body and a good firm cock to match and I could pull the birds so easily! Life was good, just so long as I could keep finding new bedmates.

By now it was a few years into the 1990s and a full decade of years and more since I’d last seen Rob and to be honest, I’d more or less forgotten about him. But then I was in town one day and spotted what seemed to be a familiar face heading my way. I was having a few days off work – accrued holiday time that needed using up – so I’d headed into town to buy some new clothes and to get my hair cut but now I stopped dead in my tracks as my mind processed his facial features.

Of course it was him; I was positive that it was Rob…

I stood still, trembling with a warmth that I seemed to have lost until now and waited until he was almost level with me and then, stepping into his path I spoke up.

“Hi Rob, that’s you, isn’t it? Remember me?” I said, my heart beating enthusiastically, “It’s Chris.”

“Wow – hey, what the hell?” he snapped back as he stopped walking abruptly, then a huge smile formed and his eyes lit up.

“Damn, it is – it is you!” he answered and a few moments later we were in a bear hug, slapping each other on the back with cheerful abandon, with words of happiness tumbling from us.

“What on earth are you doing here Rob?” I asked incredulously after we’d moved apart, my hand still holding his arm, “Where the hell have you been all these years?”

“Just earning a living Chris,” he conceded, “I changed jobs recently and I’ve just moved back here, so that’s why I’m back in town. What about you?”

“Still the same old me!” I professed cheerfully, letting my eyes roll, “Still working at the same place, still surviving – even enjoying myself sometimes!”

“Time for a cup of coffee or something?” he asked as we laughed together and I nodded quickly.

“Yeah, sure, love to, got so much catching up to do, eh?” I said as we headed towards the local café, “Love to hear what you’ve been up to.”

I knew that I was excited to see him again but it was as we strolled towards the café that I realised that not only was I pleased to see canlı casino him but that my cock was not a little aroused – unexpectedly turned on I guessed by the emotional greetings and embrace. I could feel its growing presence as it pressed against my underwear and trousers and for a little while I felt entirely embarrassed to be showing such signs of excitement over a guy. Fortunately for me and before I could start to worry about it, our chatter and our arrival at the café dispelled any sexual undertones.

We settled at a table outside the café, our coffee mugs steaming beside us as we chattered away. Soon Rob had found our about my marriage disasters and almost as soon he too admitted to being divorced.

“So what is it with us?” I asked once he’d revealed his status, “I know I really enjoy a good woman.”

“Yeah, me too,” he answered, “I just get bored quickly I think – you know, bored with the way they are – the way they go on.”

He paused as if to pluck up the courage to continue then spoke again.

“Actually Chris,” he added quietly, “I sometimes get the feeling that I’m going off them completely.”

His comment caused my eyebrows to jump upwards then I covered my surprise with a smile.

“Nah, there’s nothing better!” I laughed with my throw-away line, “Anyway, what else has happened then?”

He’d just managed to buy himself a small house out in the suburbs, courtesy, in a similar way to me of his parents’ generosity and was busy sorting out bits and pieces of business in town today and having finished his business he was now on his way home.

With both of us having moved into our 30s we’d aged but although it was well over ten years since we’d last clapped eyes on each other our features were still much the same as they’d ever been. He was still fit and slim with short blond hair, his face now somewhat more craggy than before and as he looked at me he mentioned that I too had a few creases now and showed the odd blemish acquired from years of life. His blue eyes still shone happily and his smile, which was always something that I’d enjoyed, still seemed to make the whole world come alive. My own hair was darker than his and a bit longer but we were both clean-shaven and together we looked fine.

“Holding up ok, aren’t we?” he asked and I agreed with a nod.

“Definitely. I use my own keep-fit gear pretty well every day,” I said, “Can’t keep up with the youngsters so easily now but I still work-out hard – I do it at home now.”

“Hah, you’ve got your own work-out station – well, so have I,” said Rob, “Same timing as you too – funny how even now we do much the same thing.”

“But you’re still chasing the girls, aren’t you?” I asked, “Still got the old sex drive?”

He laughed heartily, then pulled a sad face as he shook his hand up and down in an unmistakable gesture to show jerking off.

“Like I said, I seem to have gone off them recently so there’s a fair amount of “that” these days,” he said, “Not as successful with the girls as I used to be though.”

“Know what you mean; it’s not as easy as it was,” I answered, “I’m generally still managing to find them though – I’m not often short of a bit of company.”

“Lucky bastard!” he said as he laughed again, “Might have been my technique but my old town seemed totally dead – perhaps that’s why I think I’m going off them and that’s another good reason why I’m pleased to be back here.”

We paused in our reminiscing as we drank our coffee before Rob spoke again.

“Hey, let me have your phone number Chris,” he said, “Not going to lose your friendship this time.”

We swapped numbers and email addresses too and then, our coffee finished, we rose and faced each other.

In an instant we were hugging again just as before, really squeezing each other as we celebrated our meeting, then we stepped apart, my cock throbbing once again.

“I’ll give you a call,” we both said – then we laughed at the way we’d both sounded so eager.

“Are you busy on Saturday?” I asked and after a quick pause to think Rob shook his head.

“No, all quiet, why?” he said.

“Come on over for the afternoon or the evening,” I suggested, “I’m not bad at cooking and I’m sure we’ll find plenty to talk about.”

“Great idea; let’s make it the evening then – say six o’clock,” answered Rob then he glanced at his watch, “Send me your address – I’ll make sure I find it.”

“Yes, that’s fine,” I agreed promptly, “My place is easy to find – just press the buzzer when you get there and I’ll let you in.”

“Brilliant!” he said happily, then added, “Ooops, better get on – promised to visit my parents; can’t let them down.”

“Ok, fine, really great to find you again,” I said happily, “Do you remember when we… ah, sorry – all those memories coming back!”

“Yeah, later,” said Rob pointing at his watch, “Same sort of thoughts had crossed my mind too – I’d love to reminisce but I’m running out of time.”

We laughed again before we gave each other high kaçak casino fives and parted with a final wave.

Back home I settled to a can of lager as I watched TV but my mind wasn’t on the program; instead it was running through all the little things we’d done together, all the pranks and hijinks and fun we’d enjoyed all those years ago. As I let my mind wander back I realised that one thing was missing from our history – sex. Somehow we’d never had bothered with sexual activity in those earlier days – no exploring, no messing around with each other, nothing at all to do with sex. We seemed to have been so busy enjoying ourselves that we hadn’t even bothered to chase girls when we were together and although our deep friendship had lasted until we’d begun work, sex had never really been mentioned. Sure, we’d each dated girls; we’d glanced longingly at curvy beauties and made crude jokes; we’d joked about each other’s cocks as we peed together and admired each other’s bodies when we’d disrobed to go swimming, but most pairs of guys would do those kinds of thing and they were innocent gestures. Tonight however, vague thoughts of sex seemed to swirl around inside me before I let them go as I concentrated on making my evening meal. Anyway and more importantly, I was having a night in tonight so that I could have a really good try at beating a new computer game.

Saturday arrived and I found myself bustling around my flat, for all the world as if I was a busy housewife.

“It’s only Rob, for fuck’s sake!” I said as I continued wiping away imaginary specks of dust while laughing at my antics, “Relax!”

It was hard to do so because inside me there was a growing core of excitement for some reason; as if Rob’s visit was the start of a whole new way of life. Perhaps it would be, I realised. We’d done almost everything together in our earlier days so perhaps we’d do the same this time but it was just then that I realised that my cock had again stiffened considerably while I’d thought about him.

“Think I need to empty out or I’ll have blue balls before the evening’s over,” I muttered to myself as I patted my bulge, “Damn, not enough time now – I’ll have a good session after he’s gone.”

Of course it was nothing new to need to ’empty out’ – I’d have been lost without at least one fuck or wank every day but I hadn’t enjoyed any sex for the past couple of nights and pressure seemed to be building inside me. However, Rob’s visit was putting paid to any plans of heading out to hunt for some female to bed and although any serious thoughts of sex dissipated as I gave the place a final once over, in the back of my mind the imaginary scenario of a pleasing jerk-off session remained.

We’d agreed that Rob would come over at about six and right on time the buzzer sounded and his voice came through the tinny speaker system.

“Just press the button and the door will unlock,” I said into the microphone, “Up the stairs to the top.”

Eagerly anticipating his arrival I opened my front door and stepped out onto the landing to wait for him to arrive – and just as his head appeared I heard my door slam and click closed behind me.

Instantly a moment of horror passed my mind and as I tried to greet Rob and push the door back open I realised that it had locked itself and that I was now outside with my phone, my keys and everything still inside.

“Fuck!” I said firmly as I turned from welcoming Rob and rattled the door handle instead, “Rob – you aren’t going to believe this but I’ve just locked myself out.”

Rob literally curled up with laughter as he heard my story, then once he’d recovered he grabbed my hand and shook it firmly.

“Fine welcome, I don’t think!” he chuckled, “So now what – where’s your spare key? You do have a spare, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but it’s… in there,” I gestured, pointing at the flat, “Bloody hell – how fucking stupid.”

“Did you leave a window op… ahhh, no it doesn’t matter,” began Rob, “We’re what, three floors up so forget it. Is there a caretaker or someone who can let you in though?”

I shook my head.

“No, there’s a firm looks after the place and a helpline and you have to call them but it’s Saturday isn’t it – what’s the betting they’re closed,” I said, feelings of impending doom rising inside me, “Never had to call them before.”

Their number was on a sign down in the main entrance so we trooped down the stairs and Rob phoned them, only to receive an automated reply.

“They want me to leave details and a phone number and they say they’ll return my call,” he explained.

“But when?” I asked, imagining myself without a home for the weekend, “How quickly?”

“Hang on,” said Rob as he called them again then held up his hand as he listened.

“They say that at weekends they usually reply inside six hours,” he said eventually as he glanced at his watch, “Hah, I can’t see them calling you at midnight, can you?”

“No way – they’ll call me in the morning – oh for fuck’s sake,” I moaned, then I shook my head as I wondered what else to do before an idea rose inside me.

“Look, let me call my mother,” I said as I held out my hand to use Rob’s phone, “I’m sure she won’t mind me staying there overnight.”

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