Being a Gay Teenager

‘What on earth have I done?’ I said under my breath as I walked out through the pub’s exit. I had a fixed expression of disbelief embedded on my face all the way up the hill to the train station. I shook my head in the street to coincide with my thoughts—I dare not think now what passers-by made of my lunacy. I felt dirty, ashamed, uncomfortable, drunk, and penitent about what had just taken place in the men’s toilet back at the Ewe’s Head.

I kept asking myself whilst waiting for the train: Should I have done it? Will I be able to face him again? Did anyone guess what we’d done? The answer that kept reoccurring was: I don’t know. Oh it was such a muddle. The blasted train finally arrived twelve minutes late—but no surprises there. I sat down opposite some boy and let my head fall against the grimy window. I watched the warped images of trees and buildings pass me buy in a flash.

It appeared the boy was about to say something—but he didn’t when the conductor appeared from his compartment and hollered: ‘Tickets and passes from Bournville please’. The chubby moustached man plodded his way up the corridor.

‘The station wasn’t manned mate.’ I mumbled as he reached my seat—the station was manned—I think he knew that as well as I did, though I was too morose to care.

‘All right, what will you have then?’ he asked, rather irritably.

‘Single to Lichfield Trent Valley.’ I never bothered to say please—very unlike me. I felt sick—but I think that was from the alcohol I’d just drunk.

‘Four pounds exactly’ the conductor said as he ripped the ticket from the machine and handed it to me. I gave him a fiver, he passed me the change and walked away shaking his head slightly—I didn’t care.

‘Are you all right?’ said the tall student-looking boy opposite me. I nodded my head—he smiled and looked down.

‘No actually, I’m not all right, I feel like shit.’ I blurted. The boy looked up from his lap looking fairly taken aback. The boy smiled wistfully then bit his lip and looked away.

‘Sorry’, I said, ‘I shouldn’t have said that so…briskly.’

‘No worries…what’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘I just did something I’m gonna regret’ I answered—wanting to tell him more—I needed someone to talk to, but he was a stranger.

‘I see.’ He said. There was a long pause. We had reached the next station—no one got on—it was late on a Sunday.

‘My name’s Oliver by the way—call me Olli.’

‘Robert—Rob.’ I added.

‘So, this thing you did, is it…sexual? Violen’ began Olli.

‘It’s sexual all right’ I impolitely interrupted.

‘Right we’re getting somewhere. Now that face you’re wearing can mean one thing in my view: you fucked one, or indeed more, of your mates.’ I looked at Olli anxiously and gave him rather a hostile glare. What’s he on about I thought? How the fuck does he know?

‘I’m right aren’t I?’ he snappily asked.

‘Yes, you are, but I’m not gay!’ I affirmed.

‘Of course you’re not’ Olli giggled wryly, was it wryly? —I couldn’t make this kid out. ‘I was in denial too when I was your age.’

‘Shut up! Or I’ll go and sit over there. I’m not gay—I don’t care what you say.’ I moped. I began to well up and coiled further into my chair. My lips were trembling a little.

‘Hey, I’m sorry mate; I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry man.’ Olli said, empathetically. Numerous stations had long passed us by—mine was the last stop, and it was looking increasingly likely that Lichfield Trent Valley was Olli’s stop too.

Tears were running down my cheeks, Olli leant forward and rubbed my arm—I didn’t protest. Olli asked me whereabouts I lived. I told him and it come to pass that he rented a house with a few other students from Birmingham Uni—somewhere I was thinking of going to next year.

‘They [Olli’s house mates] won’t be back till Monday night, they’re all visiting family it being the weekend.’ Olli informed me.

‘Right,’ I said with a curious grin.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now approaching Lichfield Trent Valley, where this train terminates. Please remember to take all personal items of luggage with you. Thank you.’ The train conductor said through the loudspeaker. Olli stood up and pulled me up gently. We made our way to the doors and pressed the ‘open’ button when the train stopped. We walked out of the station and round a few corners. We engaged in little conversation—just small talk. A mixture of emotion swept through me at this point: apprehension, excitement, and lust just to name a few.

‘So you gonna come then?’ asked Olli

‘To your place?’ I asked—even though I already knew that was what he meant. He nodded.

‘Yea,’ I agreed. Olli’s road was very handsome; there was a long row of Edwardian-looking houses on one side—hidden by hulking trees, and on the other side was a wooded area. I sent a text to my mum informing her I was going to a party and to not wait up for me as I might be back in the morning. She sent one back saying it was all right—after all I am seventeen.

Olli made three attempts to hold my hand. On his fourth effort, I accepted it. I was overwhelmed by a peculiar sensation, as this was so uncanny for me—but it felt enormously pleasant to be holding hands with another boy, none the less. I now had a boner—thank God for baggy jeans—with any luck Olli never detected it—not that it matters now. Not a word was spoken until we reached Olli’s.

‘This is it.’ He said as he delicately let go of my hand so that he could jerk a key from his pocket.

‘It’s very charming,’ I commented. Olli smiled amiably. When I stepped over the threshold the house was unexpectedly spotless, considering students lived it in—it totally subverted the stereotype. Olli went to the fridge and poured two Cokes. He led me into the lounge and put on some music. We both sat down on the carroty sofa and relaxed in the melody.

‘You gonna tell me what happened then…with you and your mate?’ Olli said while stroking my face—I didn’t mind one bit. I nodded in accord…

‘Where do I begin? Basically, Nathaniel or Nat—my best mate, is gay. He told me back in Year 10. He also told me then that he fancied me. Ever since then he’s repeatedly tried it on with me. I’m the only one who knows he’s gay. If I’d told him then that I was gay too—who knows what would have happened? We’d probably be in a full-on relationship, but announcing you’re gay is too much a major feat that I just couldn’t handle the ramifications of. You know at sleepovers we’ve been at, Nat’s felt my dick and even sucked at it when I’ve been “asleep”. He’s rubbed his dick over my body; he’s even eased his cock into my mouth, I was awake when he did all these things—he just thought I wasn’t. At the last sleepover he wanked off over my head—hi cock just a few centimetres from my mouth.

‘I suppose it dates back to primary school. Back then we lived not far from each other—until he moved house. After school some days we went to each other’s house. We were only what…about ten or eleven, but we liked to “play” with each other—we never thought it was anything wrong. I did that sort of thing with two other kids in my class—and endeavoured to do with another—only he refused; but all kids do stuff like that when they’re young don’t they?

‘When secondary school started—it stopped. That was when we discovered what “gay” was. I think Nat secretly accepted he was gay there and then; but for me, it was completely the opposite. I didn’t want to be “gay”, “gay” was when a teacher told you off, “gay” was when we weren’t allowed to play football or when we had to do cross country in PE, “gay” was maths. I didn’t want to be gay. As I grew older I became even more aware of the world’s resentment of all things gay; I discovered God’s hatred of gayness from reading the Bible, and the rounding-up and killing of gays in the nazi death camps—during history lessons. So, I’ve never really accepted fully the fact that I am gay.

‘The worst occasions were getting changed for PE [Physical Education] lessons. I was always absurdly anxious about acquiring a boner surrounded by my mates all semi-naked so I had to stand firm and resist glimpsing at the so very alluring bodies of my friends—imagine what they’d be like in the girls’ changing room! I dreaded having to take showers at school because I knew I’d see my friends’ dicks and that would surely get me a boner. I couldn’t help peeking at their dicks—I did it ever so discreetly though. I quickly got dressed without drying myself properly when I felt my dick firming.

‘Nat always got a hard-on; he was always first out of the shower—how obvious is that? He actually stared at the others’ dicks. One time at the swimming baths—He grabbed my cock under the water. Bastard got me a boner—God that was so embarrassing. He often had his hand on his cock—I could tell! He’s always been like that: a Jack the Lad sort of character—he enjoys it because it gets him away with doing things normally considered gay—such as getting his erect cock out when we’re at parties. Nat had told me of an encounter he had with a sixth former behind the school stage when we were in Year 11. He had “accidentally” fell on him. They got off with each other under the stairs—Nat sucked the sixth former’s cock and ejaculated all over the floor—to the horror of the cleaners—but he had fun. That was his first gay experience. My first proper one was today, excluding Nat’s frolics at sleepovers.

‘Friday was the last day of term at school. It was a perfect day. We had a short farewell Mass and then a terse meeting in the common room. I then said goodbye to a few nice teachers and headed off to the Ewe’s Head—you know in Bournville—they serve us in there you see. We had a few drinks and a good laugh. It was nearing four p.m. when we were ready for the off. Most of us were smashed—including me. I went for a much-needed piss.

‘I couldn’t fathom how to undo my fly when Nat suddenly appeared by my side and took my dick out. “There you go,” he said. Before leaving he whispered in my ear: “I’m gonna fuck you Rob, on Sunday”. On Sunday we were going to the Ewe’s Head again for my mate Dave’s birthday you see. I murmured some gibberish in reply and that was that. I was assisted onto the train and the conductor benevolently hurled me off it at my stop.

‘I pondered over Nat’s words during the weekend and wondered if I’d imagined it all. I hadn’t. On Sunday morning I rose at seven o’clock and tugged at my dick. I did so for about three minutes until I cum all over my fist. I washed my hand in the basin and wiped my dick then made my way to the kitchen; where I ate a bowl of cereal for my breakfast—I didn’t want to have too much in case I threw it up later. After scanning the Sunday Times I prepared my clothes for going out later, after which I occupied myself with having a profoundly revivifying shower. I rang Dave and told him I’d be at the park by half ten. To cut an even longer story short, the pub opened at eleven—we were in there at five past. We all handed Dave our cards and some of us presents. We weren’t too rowdy to begin with but it did get worse as we drank more and more.

‘I don’t recall what time it was now, but about half an hour before I left the pub I went for my third piss of the day. This time, Nat followed me unnoticeably. There was no one in the toilet that time—ideal for his plan to succeed. I felt someone grab my shirt from behind and push me into the cubicle opposite the urinal. It was Nat. he locked the door and started to kiss my neck fiercely. It felt good—I didn’t push him off. He dropped his hand through the waist of my jeans and rubbed my nearly stiff dick.

‘He put his hands up my shirt and felt me intensely. Eventually I took off my belt and hastily pulled down my jeans. Nat took my cock and entered it promptly into his mouth. He applied great pressure on my cock and sucked it relentlessly; he pulled me closer to him—his hands were on my ass. I could feel a fabulous feeling around my dick—I couldn’t help but pant loudly. I hadn’t heard the door open. When I ejaculated down Nat’s throat it was the most excellent, incomparable, superlative feeling I’ve ever had. With my semen still in his mouth he kissed me and licked my oral cavity fastidiously. He then shoved me round so that I was in front of him, facing the wall.

‘I felt him push his unsheathed cock—which is quite ironic seeing as there’s a condom machine just next to this cubicle—up my asshole. He placed his hands on my side as to pull and push me onto his cock. He quickly gained speed—he was doing me hard. It hurt but at the same time felt so good. About half way through, the toilet door opened and a cluster of our lads moseyed in. They were loud which allowed Nat to continue fucking me. This was so exciting! One of the lads was pushed playfully against the cubicle door. This made our hearts pound and Nat actually stopped his thrusts.

‘When the door had closed, he increased the velocity and started to whimper. He ejaculated with a scream in my ass. He then simply kissed me aggressively and walked out of the toilet. I looked at myself in the mirror and walked out when a man came in. I walked straight out of the pub—not talking to anyone—and onto the train where I met you. That’s it.’

I turned from looking at the wall to face Olli who said: ‘Blimey! That’s one heck of a story, Rob!’

‘Yea, it was, wasn’t it?’ I said rhetorically.

‘You even made me get a boner,’ said Olli

‘I did?’ I asked interestedly

‘Yea, you wanna see?’ Olli said with a sly smirk on his face. I nodded and as I did so, Olli slid across the squashy sofa and took hold of me. He went to kiss me—I let him. He undid his fly and fiddled around in his pants until it emerged. His dick tossed out of his open fly. The foreskin was rolling back as it expanded. I too had a boner—it was evident through my jeans. ‘Now you’ he said.

I undid the buttons on my fly and pulled out my cock. We studied each other’s cocks and felt them—we jerked at them too—but I wanted much more fun before I ejaculated. His cock was slightly bigger than mine—I could feel the blood pulsate inside his young cock. While I looked at my cock I remembered Nat’s mouth had been over it just hours ago. ‘Do you wanna fuck me?’ asked Olli. I again nodded. Olli gave me a condom and lay on his front and slid headfirst towards the end of the sofa. I stood up and took my jeans and shoes off. I them positioned myself on top of Olli. I had a knee either side of his thighs. Olli twisted around so he could undo his top button on his jeans so I could pull them down without hurting his cock.

I pulled them down and his ass was staring up at me. I rolled on the condom and put my hands near his asshole and opened it. I manoeuvred my cock to his asshole. It was difficult getting it in, so Olli gave me some lubricant to rub on my cock. It now went in with no trouble—I pushed it about halfway—already it felt good. I lay completely on top of Olli and pressed my cock into him as fast as I could. I began to breath loudly—as did Olli.

‘Fucking hell’, I kept saying. My forehead was sweating very much at the sheer delight I was getting from prodding Olli with my cock. In, out, in, out, in, out. Faster then slower, faster then slower. I ejaculated quarter of an hour later. I collapsed on Olli who quickly shoved me off; there was precum on the sofa from his dick. He pulled off my condom and went down to lick the remnants of semen off my cock.

‘Wank me off, Rob.’ Directed Olli. I did as he asked. I knelt beside him on the floor and pulled up his foreskin over the top of his cock—it didn’t take him long to ejaculate—he was so turned on.

He squirted his load over my hand, which I soon was licking and swallowing. I then went up to Olli’s face and kissed him, he took hold of my hand with the semen on and put it on his face. Five minutes later he said:

‘Come on, we’ll shower now.’ So we did. We soaped each other under the torrent of hot, steamy water.

We basically watched TV, listened to the music channels, and debated politics in each other’s arms until about ten/eleven. We did other things too like order a takeaway and fondle some more—but we were both tired you understand and thus never had a lot of oomph about us. We retired to Olli’s bed to give each other blowjobs just after eleven. We fell asleep with our hands over the other’s body. I had a sufficient night’s sleep. I could be myself. I mulled over my life and where it was heading. When I woke it was eight forty a.m. Olli told me the rest of the housemates would be there very shortly—I had to get moving. I got dressed into the clothes I wore yesterday, stuck a chewing gum in my mouth and kissed Olli goodbye.

‘Wait!’ He ordered, ‘here’s my number—call me whenever you want.’ He gave me a piece of notepaper with his mobile number on.

‘Thanks, Olli.’ I said as I walked out the door. He watched me walk up the street. As I made my way through the quirky lanes and roads to go home, I realised I was gay—and I accepted it—but I wasn’t going to tell anyone…perhaps Nat…if he didn’t already know. It was time I stopped pretending and started living an enjoyable life—dating boys, and not girls—which was, after all, just a falsehood.