Fiction
I was raised in a town that was still pretty conservative in the 60 and 70s when a lot of the country was changing. The folks dragged me to church at every opportunity so we could be told everything was sinful, especially sex. School gave us the basic biology functions without details.
Sex was rarely spoken of by adults around kids and teenagers and homosexuality was never ever spoken of.
But, I seemed to notice both men and women.
In time I learned some about homosexuality. Of course church taught me it was wrong in a very quiet way that made it hard to understand. I think it was more practical hearing guys calling each other fag and queer than what I was learning in Sunday school.
What education I got about homosexuality was not positive which of course made me feel confused and guilty about some of the feelings I was having.
While I was grappling with my thoughts and feelings I ran across a few magazine articles that taught about sexuality and how everyone at one time or another thought about sex with the same gender. I read it in more than one article and that made me feel better. I just assumed my attraction to other men would pass over time.
I did get a few dates and made out with high school honeys and felt some boobs but, never got any of them into bed. Unlike some of my buddies I was very much a virgin on graduation day.
I decided to join the Air Force but, I had a few months between graduation and actual enlistment. The buddies and I were outside of town one day on a dirt road when we had a flat. While they changed the tire I was kicking around in the ditch and saw a cardboard box about three quarters buried in the dirt.
I pulled it open just to see what might be inside though I didn't expect anything. But, score, it was full of porn magazines!
I don't mean the soft core Playboy stuff either. This was the hard stuff. Back when hard core porn was shot with ugly women usually with big boobs. The guys were pretty tickled at my discovery.
We spent the rest of the evening looking at the somewhat worn and dirty magazines and cracking jokes. Then towards the bottom of the box we come across a few gay magazines.
Colored pictures of two and three men sucking each other cocks and fucking. Close up shots of hard cocks pushing into other men's assholes, cum on men's faces. Of course the guys were letting their disgust be very well known; I was fighting a hard on.
The picture that really stood out to me was of two young, handsome nude men in a very deep kiss. One was sporting a huge hard on and the next picture they were still kissing and the second man had his hand wrapped around the other's hard, jutting cock. They were reclined on a sofa and the man with the hard on was leaning against the other. It really struck me how passionate it was to see two men kissing in such a way.
Well, the fag mags were put back in the box and tossed back into the ditch and the straight ones were tossed into my buddie's trunk and I was tossed off at my house. Of course I spent the late night hours thinking of only the male mags and ended up jerking off to the male on male pictures that I had seen.
The next day I drove out alone and found the box and found a private place to go. I got to take my time looking at the pictures. Some of the men seemed to have cocks three times my sizes. I couldn't figure out how they got those big cocks into each other's assholes.
Of course I ended up jerking off to the pictures. But, I seemed to have spent the most time looking at the one picture of the two men having that passionate kiss on the couch with one holding the other's cock.
By the time I was done I knew I had to be with a man just once.
Of course that thought went through my head a thousand times over the next few years and of course I had no idea how I would ever meet a guy. Small town Texas life didn't lend it self to gay meeting places and of course there was no internet and such.
But, it would all have to wait because boot camp was calling me.
Of course boot camp didn't really give one time to think of much of anything. But, it was very difficult to see all those guys in the buff at shower time.
To sound cliché one of the black guys was huge. I guess I can say that because the other black guys were talking about what a big cock he had. And no, I didn't end up with him.
Then I was sent to Washington D.C. for my first assignment. The big city! Totally different than my boondocks West Texas town.
I made friends with a guy that had a car and one night he started driving around and showing the sites of D.C. other than the usual tourists stops.
Back in the day one of those sites was 14th street. I suppose by now it is all cleaned up but back then it was strip joints, porn stores, dive bars, and hookers and if you stood in the right place you could actually see the White House.
We didn't stop but, just looked at the seedy sites. My ride was ten years older than me and had no real interest in seeing strippers even if I did.
He warned me I should never come down to 14th alone and best to stay off it all together due to muggings and dope dealers but, what can you tell a super horny 18 year old virgin?
From there he turned and went over to 15th street. It was not near as busy and even lighter traffic on the sidewalk. Towards one end there were a few bars and lot of guys standing around outside and I made a comment to my friend about so many men standing around together.
My ride said "you want to stay away from this end of town. These are all the queer bars." Of course I was a bit shocked. I don't think there were any gay bars in all the state of Texas back then and gays sure didn't stand around together in the open back then in Texas (well, maybe in Austin) but, I was so dumb I didn't know there was such a thing as gay bars.
Anyway, I think I was also surprised that they all looked so normal. I sat in my dorm room that night thinking of all I had seen that night and wondering what in the hell happened in a gay bar.
I gave it a lot of thought but, never acted on it. I still had a lot of conflicting guilt thinking about men in a sexual way and I couldn't screw up the courage to go to those bars.
This was in the 70s and the military was still kicking people out for being gay and even jailing some. I sure didn't want to get caught in a gay bar by higher ranking people. Even though they would have to explain what they were doing in a gay bar.
In the Summer I was bored with the office and I had some leave time built up and just bought my first car. So, I took a week off to see some the country side. But, I ended up mostly hanging out in D.C. and one afternoon I was down town and some siren call pulled me down 15th street.
I slowed when I got by the gay bars and being the middle of the day there was no one standing around outside; though I had no idea what I might see. But, I knew I wanted to go inside.
I went back to my dorm and at the right time I showered, shaved, and dressed nice but, nothing that would really stand out. I grabbed a ball cap even though it didn't really go with the outfit and headed for 15th street.
It was actually pretty early for bar hopping as I scouted for a parking place. Finding one in a paid lot a couple blocks over I pulled the hat down almost over my ears in an attempt to hide my self in case some coworkers just happened to drive by also; though I knew good and well they were most likely all back at the base.
I went to the bar with the most guys standing around when I drove by in the evenings on nights out with the boys; though there were none out now.
I must of looked like I was going to rob the place the way I kept looking over my shoulder and all around trying to see if anyone I knew might be watching me.
A brief mental picture ran through my head of the military police (MPs) rushing up and arresting me for being a fag. I almost turned around more than once.
Well, I stood looking at the door and finally summoned up the courage and grabbed the door knob and pulled the door open and went inside.
I didn't know what I thought I would see when I got inside; men walking around in jock straps, men in makeup and wearing women's clothes, all the clichés. Instead I basically saw darkness.
Until my eyes adjusted from walking in from the bright Washington D.C. day into a bar that really wasn't that dark. When they did adjust I guess I was more surprised that it looked like a regular straight bar or just a bar.
There were maybe a dozen or so guys in the place at the moment doing what most guys do in a bar, drinking beer, shooting some pool and ignoring me; treating me a lot like women in bars.
They all looked like D.C. types in the mid 70s. Hair longer than it is worn today but, trimmed up, suits and ties or at least office shirt with the tie off now that they were off work.
The bar itself was U shaped and only a few guys were standing or sitting by it and all on one side close to the door. After taking in the whole bar I moved around to the far side of the bar and close to an emergency exit; I still had this picture running through my head of the MPs coming in and dragging me out.
To be honest since I had no idea what I was doing I guess I was looking for safety and maybe give me an exit if I chickened out.
The bar tender came around and seemed a bit irritated that I went so far from all the others and even more so when I ordered a coke instead of a beer or other drink. I didn't want to take the chance of being drunk in case I wanted to leave.
But, the bartender was polite about it and even engaged in a little conversation asking if it was my first time there. I started to lie but, suddenly didn't see why I should and told him yes.
