LGBT Stories

Most guys tell stories about how they helped other guys over their shyness. Thought I’d tell you one about other guys helping me; even though I was hot and horny and couldn’t wait. Sounds weird, huh?

I lost my virginity at 18. Loved it, but couldn’t wait to get out of the dumpy, backwards, tiny little town I lived in. I didn’t have any money and was too scared to just get up and leave. The only sure way I could think of to leave and yet have somewhere to go, and have a job when I got there was to join the military.

See how desperate I was? Well, guys, it worked! I got outta that town all right. Wound up living with 79 other guys in a one bedroom house. No living room. No kitchen. One really huge bathroom. It´s called boot camp.

I’ll leave it to your imaginations what I had to do to keep from popping a boner in the showers. Trust me - whatever you’re thinking, I tried it.

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Man, when I was in high school I thought I was the ugliest shit on earth. True, I wasn’t interested in girls, but I thought that cause I was so dark-skinned, I was too ugly to attract a guy. Everybody was always interested in the white boys first, then the Latinos, and maybe some other guys. The black girls were all into the light-skinned brothas and well, it seemed logical that if I wasn’t the only fag in school - they would find me least attractive.

So after high school when I joined the Navy, I wasn’t looking nor expecting that Rob would prove me wrong. Some guys think that the military has lots of quick and easy sex going on among soldiers. Nothing could be further from the truth, if you plan on sticking around any time.

In the service, you gotta be very discrete. Civies don’t know what discrete is in the outside world. Hell, sometimes it might take you a few months of work, to find and nurture a situation with a buddy. And you better the hell not be caught off-base doing tearooms, parks and shit - cause your ass is gone.

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Eighth Street south of Penn. Avenue in the Nation’s Capital is not
exactly the nicest area of town. It can be kindly described as a mixed bag a
little on the poor and dirty side. There are a couple of gay bars, and a few
brave souls are restoring houses and moving into a marginal part of the city.
However, Eighth street has one redeeming feature: it is the location of the
United States Marine Barracks. This post was founded by President Thomas
Jefferson, and is known for its spiffy form -a must is the Friday Night Drill
Show during the summer- and its great band (the President’s Own) which was
once directed by the great John Philip Sousa. Seeing the off duty marines
strut up and down the street is worth pulling yourself out of Georgetown or
the Dupont Circle area and venturing down Eighth south of Pennsylvania.
Saturdays or Sundays are best for marine watching. Not to worry about who is
and who isn’t a marine. In Southeast D.C. they stand out and shine. Best of
all they like to dress un-marine like when off post. You see them with short-
shorts that only a strong jock strap keeps their privates from being public.
Mostly they travel in twos. Stop them and ask a question about the Marine
Barracks and you will be treated to a show in young male egotism.
Usually, if they are alone, they are slow to talk, but one Saturday I
caught one by himself in a grocery store and asked about getting a pass to the
Friday night public show. He talked for a few seconds before I realized I was
not even listening. Instead I was mesmerized by his boyish looks. His accent
was southern which was a real turn on for me. He was not so handsome as he
was just a fine, young specimens of manhood that no decent cocksucker would
turned down.

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I was with a historical society tour group in Williamsburg, the
colonial capital of Virginia. The roommate they gave me was an older,
uninteresting man whom I escaped at every opportunity. We were staying in a
national motel chain that had the liveliest bar in that sleepy seventeenth
century town.
I went to the bar and drank and played a video game. I had long since
discovered that the best contacts are made at video games. They seem a
perfect means of meeting a young person and beginning a conversation that may
end in bed.
I hadn’t been at the game long when a very attractive man in his early
twenties joined me. The muscular bulges in his undersized tee shirt gave away
what he was quick to tell, namely that he lifted weights. He was a sailor
stationed in Norfolk but was getting away from that sailor city for the
evening.

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I have taken to bed every branch of the armed service -sailors,
marines, I’ve had them all. But the service men that are the most
difficult to get in the sack are the army Rangers. Those young men are
among the strongest, bravest, and best looking, but alas, the army
treats them to what can only be called a brain washing indoctrination
that keeps them from experiencing the joys of sex with other males.
The sad truth is that, although I have had many home for dinner,
drinks, even pot, only with two did I ever manage to go all the way. I
had several near misses and teases. I’ll tell about them first.

The post was near by, and different companies of Rangers would
hang out in different bars. I was happy that a very atttractive
company had chosen my favorite bar. It did not take them long to know
my interests, but they accepted me as one of the guys and let me know
they would enjoy my food, my liquor, my pot, my hospitality, but not my
bed. Out of a dozen or so that told me that they “knew the deal”
(meaning my homosexuality) only one or two shunned me for it. Like
most young men away from home, they were glad to be invited over for a
meal, dirty movies, and a place to hang out. And natually, I enjoyed
their company. I had never been around so many macho men who “knew the
deal” and had so much fun. When I was with them, I was never on the
make -it was useless- and consequently we were all quite relaxed and
into having a good time.
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I met Bob sitting in a bar where we fell into friendly conversation. I
guessed him to be in either the army or marine corps. It turned out that he
was a marine and proud of it. I had long known that service men alone often
were looking for action. Even if they were not seeking male sex, they were
usually open to conversation and glad to have company. I’ve taken home many
service men who appreciated getting away from their duty post and enjoying
local hospitality. To quite a few of these, I have extended my hospitality
right into my bedroom and into some hot sex.

Bob was short, dark, and attractive, but not really handsome. He was
verbally clever, and I love his New England accent and quickness of wit.
When I told him I was going home to smoke a joint, his eyes lit up, and he
asked if he could join me. Who was I to say no to one of the “Few Good
Men”? Soon we were at my place `burning one.’ One of the good things about
pot is that you sit close to each other in order to share the joint. The
closeness of bodies is the first step toward the bed.
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After 3 years in the Navy I was transferred from Shore Duty in Hawaii to a ship that I was to meet in the Philippines. I had made Electronics Technician third class (ET/3) and it was time for a tour at sea.

The ship was out on station when I got to the Philippines so I had to wait for about six days until I was called into the Personal Office and told that someone would pick me up at 1400 hours. We drove through the jungle for about an hour and a half to a remote dock where the ship was tied up.

The ship was named after a dormant volcano. It is still a commissioned ship of the line so I won’t give the name but I’ll tell you that ships named after volcanoes carry ammunition, bombs and rockets to restock aircraft carriers, destroyers, guided missile cruisers and any other ship that fires shells, drops bombs, or launches missiles of any kind.
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Don closed the front door and walked over to where Lane was standing.” You here to keep a watch on me?” Don asked. “No I am only to stay here like the General said and if you are uneasy about that I can leave.” “No, if you’re referring to last night I was a little concerned about how I felt more then anything else.” Lane sat down on the couch as Don walked over to the large bay windows and looked out onto the street. It was starting to get dark out and he was about to turn the desk lamp on when he noticed that Lane had fallen asleep on the couch. Don walked over to Lane and could see that he was sound asleep. He decided to let Lane sleep and walked over and turned of the other lights in the room and walked down the hall to his bedroom.
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What do you mean by this “You’re are already a big enough asshole.” Very unkind words pal.

You know the last time that was said to me was in San Antonio, Texas, in a small bar near Lackland Air Force Base, by a gentleman in the Marines who stood 6-1 and had about 150lb. on me. He was some dickhead who was throwing his weight around. I was there down from Houston to visit my brother who at the time was the EX of Lackland. Well his aide, a young Lt. named Tracy, was ordered to show me the night sights and make sure I didn’t get into any trouble. Tracy was about my height and weight with blond hair and blue eyes. The visit with Scott done and because he had duty over the weekend, he had the Lt. take me in to the city.
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Chapter One

The U.S.S. Henderson slowly moved out to sea. Looking back over his shoulder, Seaman Tommy Johnson thought that San Diego was the most beautiful city he’d seen in his brief 19- year-old life. He savored the view of high rise buildings glowing in the afternoon sun, knowing it would be a while before he would be treated to this site again. He was embarking on a naval exercise that would keep them at sea for six months, tending the gigantic nuclear cigars that would surface from time to time for provisions. `Six months at sea! Oh, man, this is really gonna be hard on my sex life,’ he thought to himself. `Not that I really have one.’ The whole exercise had begun in a rather odd manner. The captain had ordered every man on the ship to have a complete physical, blood tests and all, before they were allowed to board. And, after they completed their exams, they were sequestered in barracks at the Training Center until they could board the tender. (more…)