Gay Days

Some 30 years ago I wrote, with pen and paper, a long history of my gay sexual experiences, from my first sexual fumblings – right up to the day of writing. Then I added events and chapters as they happened for the next ten years or so, ceasing only when time and freedom ran out and then I found out all about computers so I transferred everything into electronic words.

The whole thing was too long and rambling but that didn't matter because I never intended to publish my sexual autobiography. However, since I hit my 60s, (and now my 70s) I've felt that I should really let others partake in some of the fun that I enjoyed.

So I've attacked and divided up the story, edited it to the best of my ability, made it more readable and turned it into eight parts for you to read.

The original writing was also very much in my 1980's/90's style – comparatively polite and lacking conversation, so I hope that my efforts to liven the stories up meet with your approval.

And the stories are in English from England, so please put up with my British spellings and phraseology.

This therefore is the SECOND of those segments of my life – "Monks at the Monastery".

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During my childhood, our whole family were practicing Roman Catholics and we went to mass every week without fail. Our local church was actually a Monastery that was situated off the edge of our village and whose grounds backed onto what was known as 'The Heath' – an expanse of sand, gorse, bracken and heather – miles in extent in most directions. Over the years, through our support, we became friendly with a number of the friars and priests – so much so that some of them would visit us and occasionally spend evenings at our house, chatting, having a few drinks with my parents and enjoying their freedom. I remember one elderly friar who visited us and who was introduced to Green Ginger Wine; my father's favourite tipple at the time – a wonderfully warming tonic. But it was quite potent and on this particular occasion he overdid things and apparently had to be found and rescued, along with his old moped, at about two in the morning, from a snowdrift up on the heath – pissed out of his tree!

We came to know many of them quite well and from the age of perhaps 12 I started doing small tasks at the monastery under their guidance. Soon I became a regular visitor and before long I began to take a more active role, helping out at their Sunday masses and other services. Then, once I was past my 18th birthday and therefore officially an adult, I began to get invited to stay behind after mass for some tea or a meal and despite the reputation of monasteries as being quiet places this place hummed with activity. Soon I was invited to use their considerable sporting facilities and much of my spare time was spent around the monastery.

One particular friar was always given the job of 'looking after' me – chaperoning me around the extensive monastery and I quickly became his friend as well as his responsibility. He was Brother Matthew or just Matt once I knew him better.

Anyway, I initially came to know him better than the rest because he, like the old friar before him, got quite drunk one night when he called at our house – on Green Ginger Wine again of all things and I walked back to the monastery with him.

Because the monks weren't really supposed to be drinking to excess and because of the experience with the elderly monk I went with him to make sure that he reached his room quietly and safely. I was almost 19 by now and my parents decided that, as the only one who hadn't been drinking, I should be the one to escort him back. It was a fair old walk, but those were the days when you walked a lot – no reliance on motorised transport. When we left home he was just somewhat fuzzy but by the time we arrived at the monastery, some four miles away, it was all he could do to stand up.

We trudged along, me with my arm around his waist for much of the time until we eventually reached the monastery. I used his key to open the door and let us in and guided him up to his room and once there he sat heavily on his bed, looking quite vacant.

"I need to get undressed so I can go to bed," he slurred, "Where's my 'jamas?"

They were on a chair so I handed them to him and stood to await his next move but his fumbling hands were no match for his belt and shirt buttons so I helped him get undressed down to his underpants, managed to get him into his pyjamas and ready for bed.

"I need a wee," he mumbled as he stood there but it was clear that I'd have to help – he was sober enough to know that he needed to go but it seemed doubtful if he'd be able to find his penis or aim properly so I led him to his bathroom and stood him by the toilet.

"How do I do this?" I asked out loud as I considered the best way to help.

Tentatively I reached to his fly and found the top of his underpants. I pulled them down and wondered if I was doing the right thing, then his hand came and joined mine.

"Yes, help me get it out," he mumbled, as he began fumbling around in his underwear.

"Ok, stand still," I said as swayed beside me, "I'll see if I can find it."

As I supported him with one arm, I reached into his underpants and found his limp penis. I took hold of it and pulled it out – there seemed to be an awful lot of it! I eventually pointed it at the toilet pan while I propped his body up against mine. I could now hold his cock with both hands and I both held him and pulled back his foreskin.

"Ooh that's nice," he groaned and he pushed his hips up towards my hand to try to make his cock slide through my fingers.

I felt his penis thicken slightly in my hand.

"Concentrate on what you're doing," I said and soon he began to piss and I thought he'd never stop.

Finally I was able to shake his penis for him, push his foreskin back into place and prepare to put it away, but as I did so he started to dribble again.

"Haven't you finished yet?" I asked as I held his cock over the bowl again.

"Don't know," he slurred.

Once again I pulled back his foreskin to stop his pee from splattering against his foreskin and my actions revealed his shiny knob again.

"Oooh, I like it when you do that," he mumbled.

"You're supposed to be peeing!" I said, "Stop getting excited."

"I like you touching me," he said thickly, "It makes me feel very horny."

'Horny or not', I thought, 'you'll be asleep as soon as you lie down!'

"Just hurry up and finish peeing," I said as he continued to dribble pee into the bowl, while his cock lay thick and heavy in my hand.

Eventually he seemed to be empty. I shook his cock firmly and squeezed it to get the last of his piss drained off.

"I'm going to put a wad of toilet paper in your underpants in case you leak," I said as I pulled off a length and folded it up.

I pulled his pants forward to shove the soft pad down below the end of his penis. As I was doing so I realised that his penis was getting longer and bigger and at this rate it would be huge when it was fully erect, I realised! I pulled his pants away, positioned the pad and taking hold of his cock again I put it back into a comfy position in his pants. But even as I did so, I could feel it getting even larger; it was now starting to become erect and I found I just had to keep watching as it grew. However, to my annoyance, he was too pissed to get a really full erection but nevertheless his cock was a lengthy instrument and I wondered if I'd be able to get to know it better.

I manoeuvred him to his bed and as he lay down I could see that although he didn't have an erection, his cock had become generously aroused and now its extensive outline was clearly visible in his pyjamas. I didn't pursue the subject any further at the time though because I didn't really know him all that well and because of the state he was in, even though it seemed like an interesting idea!

However I think that he must have been sober enough to remember that night and our relationship seemed to develop from there.

Once he began to snore I let myself out of the monastery and walked home in the silent moonlight with abiding memories of his large and heavy cock and the knowledge that he seemed to have wanted me to enjoy it.

Because of my connections with the monastery through our religion and through my parent's recommendations, I spent quite a lot of time there – perhaps they saw me as a budding monk! Whatever, my parents seemed to think I was in good hands and they had no objection to my visits and so they continued.

I didn't have many friends round the village, (truthfully I didn't really want to mix with most of the village youths) so the monks made good companions and I found myself cycling there more and more often, especially to use their considerable sports facilities and to enjoy their remarkably good company. Although I played sports with a number of the monks, much of my time in the monastery was spent with Matt. We usually either played tennis, snooker or badminton, or perhaps we just sat and talked – usually in the peaceful covered cloisters. And sometimes during the summer we'd go for long walks out on the heath or perhaps just find a sunny grassy bank where we'd sit and chatter.

As we became more friendly, he began to ask me about confessing my sins and then he started talking about my sexual habits and interests as he purported to tell me what was wrong in the eyes of God and what wasn't.

But I wasn't that stupid and I could tell that his interest certainly wasn't in keeping me on the straight and narrow – far from it. He'd come and sit beside me and then put his arm around my waist or over my shoulder while he delved into my world and while he did so, he'd squeeze me tight to his body as a sign of friendship.

The questions gradually become more personal; about my sexual likes and dislikes and about what I thought was acceptable or not. I didn't really mind because he told me about his own likes and dislikes and our chats were both interesting and sociable.

And in due course they became sexually arousing too.

It was when he said that he didn't think that gay sex was wrong that my ears pricked up because his view was that any relationships, however unusual were fine so long as they were kept private. I was beginning to like this man and his attitude and therefore I made no objections to his attentions! Quite apart from my own enjoyable experiences I knew that gay sex still happened everywhere; it was just that the law didn't yet allow for it.

Not only did I like his attitude, I was finding that I'd often get an erection when he held me close to his body. I wasn't sure if I should let him find out, in other words, should I position my erection so as to make a ridge in my trousers or should I try to hide it? I chose to keep my hard-on out of sight whenever possible, although I know that it did 'escape' on a few occasions.

Whether or not he noticed it I didn't know but since he'd usually be sitting next to me looking down across my body, I'm pretty certain that he knew very well when I was aroused because I could often see his own penis making its presence known in his trousers.

I remember once that we sat on a bench; both of us astride the bench and facing each other as we chattered, when the subject of sex arose.

And arise it certainly did and I couldn't help but glance at his penis growing and forming a big long bulge down his trouser leg; I could have so easily reached forward and grasped it...while realising that he could easily have reached up the leg of my shorts to hold my own risen cock.

Over the next month or so we seemed to go through a period of sexual showing off, discretely, of course. It also became a habit for us, when we played sports, to obviously change into shorts and then afterwards we'd swap them for loose tracksuit bottoms. Exposure of our cocks was commonplace as we changed, showered or dried off but nothing sexual happened or was said...but a change was afoot.

"I'm all hot and sticky," said Matt in the locker room after a shower following one energetic match, "My pants feel damp and nasty – I'm going to keep them off."

"What, not wear anything – just your jogging bottoms?" I asked.

"Why not – who's to see?" he answered as he changed and naturally I followed suit.

With loose clothing our cocks could dangle and sway deliciously and I soon became used to the feel of my penis hanging free. Matt's penis would be there too of course and I could often see it's outline when his tracksuit pulled against it.

Nevertheless and despite my interest in gay sex I was still shy, and especially so of my erection that seemed to happen at the most awkward moments. But I wasn't the only one to become aroused and with the freedom that our baggy trousers provided erections soon seemed to become quite common...

Several times I could see that his cock had become enlarged and excited and mine would do it's best to respond in kind.

His penis would stretch out down his leg in partial erection and once more I was able to watch as it lifted his jogging pants into a substantial tent. He didn't seem to realise, or did he; that it was so visible for a while – then he casually stood up and adjusted his clothing.

And then, once, out on the heath as we reclined on our favourite bit of turf, I found my own cock becoming erect, although that wasn't unusual in itself when the conversation became interesting. The problem this time was that I was wearing shorts again and as my cock stiffened it slid down and out of my underpants and it was only by chance that it didn't stick out of the leg of my shorts. I had to hurriedly do my best to adjust my clothing and I know that he saw it happen but for some reason he didn't comment about it.

I suppose that he was simply biding his time because it was very obvious to each of us that we were interested in one another in a sexual way. I suppose that we were both waiting for the right occasion or for the other person to make a move at the right time and place.

Our friendship led me to explore many parts of the monastery, including the sports fields, the locker room and the showers obviously as well as the library, the kitchens and, needless to say, his private room.

And then during that summer as we started to focus on playing tennis we'd always have a shower after the games. Initially I was rather reserved but before long I put my worries aside and stripped off – anyway, I'd always be all hot and sweaty and I did really need to clean up after our energetic games.

And there in the showers we were able to see each other's naked bodies; our eye contact very obvious as we checked each other out. But it was tense though because the showers were communal and there was always the chance that another friar or visitor would walk in and there were just too many others showering to risk any scandal.

As a result, Matt and I were fairly circumspect, although it was obvious to each of us that we both were spending a fair amount of time 'displaying' our cocks to each other.

His penis always seemed to be partially erect when I saw it – it was never totally limp but perhaps it was always like that.

Much as I'd have liked to see him become erect, he obviously needed to keep his cock under control in that 'public' place and I was surprised that he managed; it must have taken a lot of will-power.

Equally so, I was horrified that I would become erect too and there was always a possibility of that happening as our bodies sometimes rubbed against each other as we washed! I was excited but scared – I was almost desperate to show him how big my erect penis was and yet I was afraid to do so, especially in the showers and I think that being scared stopped me from getting hard.

However...while the showers themselves were quite open, the monastery allowed the friars to have visitors in their rooms and they were always considered to be totally private.

Our relationship was moving on and by now he had begun to get very personal, asking me about how I felt about my body. I had no problems with that but then he asked how my penis was developing; how big it had looked when he'd seen it; how often I masturbated and how I felt about doing it. He'd cover his questions by trying to relate them to sins and other misdeeds but it was blatantly obvious that he was trying to lead me on! If I'd have been a few years younger, I suppose they would have called it 'grooming' but now, he was merely chatting me up!

Mind you, I also was asking him questions about his own body – it was a bit like petting without touching! It was also getting to the stage that I would get a hard-on almost as soon as we were alone together and I'd find myself rubbing my hand over the bulge that my cock was making in an effort to bring it to his notice. Before long I realised that he was doing the same...

Something really sexy was going to have to happen very soon!

Thinking about erections – on another occasion he told me about his methods of masturbation, also saying that he would often find himself with a hard-on and would wonder how best to get rid of it. I told him that I had the same problem with my cock – it totally ruled my life and always needed attention before it was satisfied. Our 'almost sexual' relationship was now becoming serious...

Then one afternoon, after a good walk we returned to the monastery and both dressed more normally, we went for a pee. As we stood side by side at the urinals, neither of us could start pissing. I guess that the heat had dehydrated us both even though our bladders suggested that we should pee. We both stood there waiting, with our cocks limply held out.

I breathed a sigh of irritation as I waited but then I noticed that his hand was slowly moving up and down his shaft and almost at once my cock began to swell up and now, for once, instead of slyly glancing, I turned my head and looked directly at his cock. He continued to rub it and within a few moments it was standing up erect and hard and huge. My own cock responded and suddenly we were no longer interested in peeing!

But equally suddenly we had to hide things away as we heard footsteps approaching as another monk came in for a piss. Damn – but things had developed at last!

As we came out of the toilet, he said that he had to go to his room and suggested that I might as well come with him. We'd managed to hide our erections from view, but I could tell by the way that he was fidgeting around that he was still erect. Mind you, I was hard too and was also having trouble trying not to let it show openly.

He spoke out loud, in case anyone might have heard, that he needed to change into his cassock so I willingly accompanied him if only because I'd had a strong feeling for a long time that something sexy was going to happen between us before too long and it looked as if it was about to happen right now!

Once in his room, he turned the key in the door.

"I'd better lock it," he said with a smile and a wink, "It wouldn't look very good if I got undressed and then someone saw me with you in my room."

What an excuse! We'd been together before when we'd changed, so what was different this time!

He took his trousers off with his back to me and while still talking to me, he continued to undress until he was just in his underpants. There was nothing unusual in that but then he walked across the room to his wardrobe and as he did so he turned half around as if to look for something and my eyes were immediately drawn to his groin.

I could see that his cock was making quite a lengthy bulge in his underpants – his erection was now making its presence clearly known and he was doing a poor job of keeping it under control. He stood there pretending to sort out his clothes, but it was clear to me that he was making sure that the growing bulge in his groin was definitely on show.