The boy to my right is Canadian according to his profile. We take turns looking at our phones in an unspoken pact, till I decide to give messaging him another stab—only for him to move to a seat around the corner. I surmise he lives here and knows one of the girls. I recommit to my decision not to talk to them. A guy from Singapore is bunking between me and the New Zealanders, and he climbs into bed around the same time they go out.

The right moment never arrives, but the next day the other guy checks out first chance he gets. At 1am, the ladder groans as I climb out of bed trying not to wake anyone; fishing the room key from my jeans, I go in search of a power socket, and end up in the lobby in my pyjamas. It becomes clear both of us are okay with this. High standards, I know. After a few ineligible candidates one who insisted on meeting at my house even though my roommate was home, another who seemed like he might be my grandfather's age , I was messaged by a guy who I felt was decent-looking and sweet-seeming enough.

At least he was my age. Good enough.

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I couldn't even believe I was typing the words. Somehow I managed to grab my long wool coat and throw it on along with a beanie hat and deodorant and walk into the still very bright, early-April evening. As I walked the seven blocks to his apartment, my mind was naturally racing a mile a minute. Here I was, speeding past all these folks who were casually meandering home from work to begin their weekend routines, and I was heading to some stranger's apartment for sex -- sex that the two of us might never speak of again.

And in broad fucking daylight, no less. Like anyone else, I had my own struggles coming out of the closet as a teenager, but I had never viewed being gay or having gay sex as wrong in any way. However, the deviant quality of this brand of sex i.

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This was all a big secret I was keeping from society, which was racing by me as I shuffled up First Avenue. I had at least three if-my-mother-saw-me-right-now thoughts that I had to quickly smush. When I got to his door, my heart was pounding, but not necessarily in the good way that it does before you're going to sleep with someone you know you really want to get it on with.

It was pounding because I really, sincerely did not know what the next hour held for me. The door opened. On the other side was some version of the sweet face I had seen, although not exactly as chiseled and clean as it had appeared in his Grindr photo. I chuckled, although I was totally debating turning on my heels and running. I've never met someone off Grindr before," I told him. Although I have never been a superficial type when it comes to choosing partners, I found myself fixated on his appearance.

The more I looked at him, the more removed he seemed from the pictures from the app. Beyond how much the tone and nature of his voice threw me, he was also much shorter and pudgier. What I was quickly realizing through my haze of anxiety and a little bit too late was that when it comes to sex this casual, it had to be purely based on looks. You aren't provided with anything else to hook into, nothing on which to build a deeper sense of attraction beyond a face and body. Here, I was not feeling that physical attraction in the slightest. We proceeded to introduce ourselves.

From that point it became abundantly clear that Ted did this regularly. Within 30 seconds of the door shutting, he had ushered me into his tiny bedroom, big enough for his slim single bed and not much else, and had begun to aggressively make out with me.

Despite my mounting apprehension, I had gone through the pain of getting myself there and was determined to do my best to roll with the situation. However, I was finding it hard to get my head in the game. Before even a minute had passed, he broke our awkward kiss, and without even attempting to remove any of his own clothes or mine, lied down on the bed, pulled his dick out through his jeans, and began to play with himself. Not knowing quite how to handle the situation or having time to sort out how I was feeling, I lied down next to him, still fully dressed in my long wool coat and hat.

We continued kissing, even though it didn't seem like he cared whether I partook in any activity beyond the kiss as long as he could keep pleasuring himself. He made little attempt to touch me. It seemed like he just wanted someone to be in the room with him, everything beyond that perhaps being a bonus or maybe even inconsequential. Eventually, however, he cued into how turned-off and anxious I seemed with the experience and, rather graciously, asked me, "Should we stop?

Feeling bad that I had led this guy on for the purposes of my own neurotic Grindr experiment, I replied, "Sure. I don't think it defined my sexuality, because I still identify as straight.

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It was a good experience, and I wouldn't change anything. Later that night at his house, we were watching a movie and he started playing with my crotch with his feet, and ended up unzipping my pants. He asked if he could give me a blowjob and I said sure.



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He did, but I couldn't give one to him because it was too weird for me at the time. That was my first sexual experience in general, let alone man-on-man experience. I didn't end up having sex with a girl until I was 18, five years after that gay experience. One time I gave him a ride home and he jokingly said, 'I'd offer to blow you but my tits are in the shop.

So I unzipped my pants and took my dick out kind of joking, kind of not. He started sucking and I kept driving until we got close to his house and he told me to pull over and I blew my load in his mouth and then he said he was going to eat my ass.

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He got out of the car, walked around to the driver's side and opened my door. I got out and leaned onto my car and he ate my ass for a long time. This was on a suburban cul-de-sac he loves puns so maybe that was part of his plan. Anyway it was unreal. It felt so good my legs were shaking.

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I kinda came again but there wasn't much and he said, 'You don't have any more for me? I was so nervous to see him at school. He wasn't that drunk though. Nothing like that has happened since. No girl has ever offered to eat my ass. I've met a few of his boyfriends and wonder if my dick is bigger than theirs. This all makes me sound pretty gay but I'm really not. About the time we were 10 or 11, we changed in front of each other and started to compare body parts.

The two of us comparing body parts continued to grow, and as we grew into our adolescent years we began feeling each other, experimented with hand jobs, blow jobs, and we ended up going all the way. We were each other's firsts for everything sexually speaking, and it started out as just being curious and figuring out what felt good sexually.

While we were experimenting, we would both talk about what we were doing with each other, and say that we both liked girls and didn't feel gay, but we were confused about why we would always do homosexual things with each other. He was the only guy I have ever hooked up with, and as far as I know, I was the only dude he's hooked up with. The sexual things we did together stopped soon after high school, and we haven't brought it up since.

One thing led to another and we were talking about how long it had been since each of us had sex. We joked about giving each other blowjobs, and one of my friends happened to be gay. He leaned over and whispered he was going to give me the best blowjob of my life. Because I was so drunk, we went to the bathroom together. I have to say it was a pretty good blowjob. It was purely just for fun and for a different experience. I don't really think much about it now. I go through most of my life not even considering gay sex, then I get some kind of stress, usually work-related.

Next thing I know I'm literally bumping into guys cruising for sex and I'm almost on gay autopilot. Afterwards I usually feel less stressed but guilty as well. Eventually I ended up visiting a gay spa and sucking off some random guy through a gloryhole. I also had variations of 'I can't believe I'm doing this' running through my head for most of the time, but that just made it better in a strange way.

It didn't teach me anything about my sexuality that I didn't already know, but it certainly satisfied my curiosity. I'm straight and proud, just a little curious Half drunk, half sober, and fully turned on. I'd known the guy since sophomore year of high school, and didn't think much if it at the time. A dumb kiss and a little grinding, just guys having fun and occupying another while bored. My now ex girlfriend had ditched me, and I was left with him and a few friends. It wasn't my first party, but I felt as if it was.