The First Time

After the most confusing New Years ever, I went back to my hometown to visit for the first time since I came out.  No one said anything.  No one asked any questions.  I would have rather everyone call me a fag or sit me down for an “intervention” than no one say a thing.  I wanted to be accepted and be just as interesting as everyone else but my “new” lifestyle was too controversial to discuss (with me in the room at least).  When I came back to San Francisco I was determined to get laid.  I didn’t care about the romance anymore.  I was 27 and had wanted to have sex with men my whole life and was done waiting.  I knew I could find it, I just hadn’t wanted to go down that road…until now. 

I had turned my Manhunt account on and off since I moved to the city and decided, without better knowledge, that I could find my first there.  It didn’t take long before I started chatting with a man that lived downtown.  He was successful, lived alone, was down for no-strings-attached sex and was interested.  We chatted a few days and then decided to meet at his house one night.  He gave my name and photo to the front desk so they’d allow me in the building and then I headed up to his apartment.  He was shorter than I thought he was going to be but he was cute.  He was 40, swimmer build and was quite the gentleman.  He opened a bottle of wine and we sat on his couch and talked about our jobs.  We finished that bottle and he went to grab another from the kitchen.  When he came back he sat much closer than before.  I was thankful for the wine because I was nervous even having drank it – no telling what I would have felt like without it.  We finished one glass and he put his hand on my leg.  “Here we go,” I thought.

He said, “You’re really handsome,” and leaned in and kissed me.  We made out for just a couple of minutes before he asked if I wanted to move to his bed.  We got up and moved to his room.  As he took off his clothes, I sat on the bed – the completely white bed – and he said, “Oh, wait, not on the duvet!”  I leaped off and he politely folded it down to the end of the bed.  At this point I was assuredly drunk.  He was blowing me and stopped to ask if I did whippits.  I had no idea what I whippit was at that point (inhaling nitrous cartridges) and said exactly that and he didn’t respond.  He moved up to my neck and then to my arm pit and says, “Do you use deodorant?”  “Yes,” I respond.  “Oh, don’t do that.  Stop.”  I’m confused as to why you wouldn’t – eww right?  I hadn’t thought of ever not wearing it.  Yet again we moved on past the random interference of his demands and I kissed and nibbled on his neck – he stopped me, “No biting.” OK.  Then I run my hands down his back with my fingernails grazing his skin – he stopped me, “No scratching.”  Jesus, seriously?  He asked me if I wanted to fuck him so I grabbed a condom and his lube and fucked him for a few minutes – I don’t remember that part very clearly – then he went to fuck me, I remember it hurting a lot and telling him to stop.  He asked, “Are you clean?” which I knew I was.  I asked him the same and he assured me he was so he took off the condom and fucked me bareback – it felt better the second time but wasn’t my favorite for sure.  He pumped for about a minute and jumped up to my head and came all about my face before I knew what hit me.  


I was in shock – not bad-shock, but stunned.  I couldn’t even think of cumming.  It was all a lot to take in.  He went and got in the shower and I followed him in shortly.  I got in with him and he rinsed off really quickly and hopped out super fast.  I went back to his room and he asked me to spend the night so I laid down and slept in a bed with a man, naked, for the first time in my life.  We woke up in the morning, walked to the corner Starbucks and I bought us coffee, walked down to the Embarcadero and parted ways.  Said we’d see each other again but we never did.  He had a lot of rules and truly wasn’t that attractive to me.  Although, technically I had just had my first gay sex, I was so drunk that it was a blur which made me sad.  My first time ever having sex was very memorable, not planned, but exactly what I wanted it to be.  This was not, so I was thankful one of my firsts was a beautiful experience.