This one time (not at band camp) - Part 1

It occurs to me that I haven't yet told the story behind my one drunken attempt to have sex with a guy. Well, it was two attempts, but with the same guy. Like, a couple weeks apart. Well, let me just tell it.

Larry, or Zeke as he was known to us, was probably in his mid 20s when I was 17 and hanging out with the same group of friends as he was. Incidentally, I'd find out years later that L also lived in the same apartment complex, probably two doors down from Doug, a good friend of mine who was the gateway to all the others.

Aside: Okay, this doesn't really have to do with the story, but I want to make sure this is clear, so bear with me. I met Doug through a relative of mine when they were sharing an apartment together. Doug and I became good friends, and through him I met the other guys who lived there, one of whom was Zeke. Over time we partied together quite a bit, and I would consider most of them to have been really good friends. L was 5 years younger, living with her mom just a few doors down. We never met during that time, but it's likely we saw each other in passing. :end aside.

Zeke was a gifted musician and is still the only person I've ever met who could play a guitar right or left handed. Okay, that might not be so rare, but he could also play a right-hand and left-hand strung guitar equally well whether he was holding it right handed or left handed.

He also had an amazing keyboards/electronic piano setup (four of them, each a different kind, arranged in a semi-circle in his room) and would play them all hours of the day. You could call out a song, and if he'd heard it once he could play it almost flawlessly the first time. After that, you couldn't really tell his cover from the original. He could also sing like nobody's business, mimicking the tone and timber of both men and women singers.

Now it may sound like I'm exaggerating his skills, but I swear that I'm not. I once played the XTC album English Settlement for him, and he fell in love with the song "It's Nearly Africa." He listened to that song separately, then went back in his room, fiddled with some settings on his four different keyboards, and within 20 minutes was playing it perfectly, including the percussions. Whenever he played, his eyes had all kinds of crazy. I would have been afraid of him if it weren't for the fact that even then I could have broken him in half.

I figured out over time that Zeke was probably gay; it wasn't anything specific, just an accumulation of his mannerisms and things he'd say. I once asked Doug what he thought, and he agreed, but we both agreed it didn't matter. Zeke was... Zeke! He was a part of our brotherhood. And/or sisterhood. But I did start thinking of possibilities.

So one night I found myself over at Zeke's, as usual, drinking a few beers and watching him play guitar while I held my guitar and pretended like I was learning something from him. He was so good, but couldn't teach worth a lick; despite many hours of trying to learn from him, his ADHD had him going from one song to the next so fast I never had a chance to learn the chord progression so I could practice it later. Plus, this night I was to busy going over in my head what I'd say to pay much attention.

He finally set the guitar aside and grabbed us both another beer, and before he could pick it up I said "Zeke, I want to ask you something." He looked nervous, which really wasn't unusual for him, but said "Okay, go ahead." I took a long pull off the beer, trying to get some liquid courage, and blurted out "Are you gay?"

He winced slightly, and the look of shame on his face was fleeting, but made me feel bad nonetheless. "I'm not judging," I hurried to assure him. "You're still my friend no matter what. I'm just curious."

"Well, 'gay' isn't exactly right. I like girls and guys, so I guess I'm bisexual." He took a long drink off of his beer. "Is it so obvious?" he asked suddenly, a little alarmed.

"No, not really," I answered truthfully. "I picked up on little things here and there, but you aren't broadcasting it or anything." I took another long pull and emptied my beer, steeling myself for the next part. I was just getting up the nerve when he jumped up to grab me another beer. When he came back, it took me another few minutes to work up the courage again, but I finally did.

"Zeke," I blurted out (I did a lot of blurting back then), "I want to suck your dick." My blood was pounding in my ears and I felt almost light-headed, but I'd said it! No matter what else happened, I'd said it!

Zeke looked shocked, and I couldn't help laughing. He finally grinned and said "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm serious," I said, still chuckling. "Look, I'm curious about it, and I figured you were one person I could ask without having to worry about offending too much."

"I'm just... I can't believe it's you asking that! I would never have thought you were gay."

"I don't know if I'm gay, but I'm curious and want to try it out. Zeke, I want to suck your cock. I want you to cum in my mouth!" For some reason, I thought saying it more directly would be a good idea, either to help him over the shock or maybe get him horny. I mean, he's a guy, right? I'd never had a blow job, but I figured they must feel pretty incredible. Who would turn one down?

"I don't know, Rob," he said, looking embarrassed. "This is just weird. You're still 17 aren't you?" I nodded confirmation, feeling disappointed. "I could get into trouble for that, especially since you're a guy."

"I wouldn't tell anyone" I whined. "It would just be between you and me. Come on, Zeke, I'd really like to do this."

We went back and forth probably another 10 minutes, but I'll spare you the line by line account. The end result is that he agreed that I could suck him, but I had to agree to stop when he said to stop. He went into the bathroom to clean up a bit, and I followed him to watch from the doorway. I was nervous, excited, and horny as hell!

He led me back into his room and stood in front of his bed. "What now?" he asked. "Hell, I thought you'd know!" I said. We chuckled a bit, then I reached out and pulled his zipper down and unbuttoned his shorts, letting them fall to the floor. He wasn't wearing underwear, so I just took him in hand and gave it a few gentle tugs. His cock grew in my hands, and in my memory it was pretty decent sized but I didn't have a lot other than my own to compare it to.

Zeke's bed was raised off the floor sufficiently that when he hopped up sitting on the edge, I only had to lean over a little to take him in my mouth. I don't remember how far down on him I was able to go, but not far enough to hit a gag point, so maybe about halfway or a little more. I didn't know what I was doing, and porn wasn't as readily available to learn from then as it is now, but I figured a classic up-and-down movement couldn't be too wrong, so that's what I did. My hands were on his bed on either side of him, bracing myself, and I considered grabbing his ass but decided against it.

The taste of his cock was strange, but not bad. From tasting my own, I knew what pre-cum would taste like, but I don't think he ever produced any. I had a good idea of what his cum would taste like because, again, I'd eaten my own before. I really wantwd to experience this!

All in all, it was probably a pretty bad blow job. I didn't know to use my hands, or to cup his balls, or really anything else. Just the up-and-down movement. It was only two or three minutes before he told me to stop, and though I wanted to continue until the payoff, an agreement is an agreement.

I asked him if it had been okay, and he said yes, and if I'd kept up much longer he would have cum. I told him that's what I wanted, but he said he was worried about me choking or something. I told him, and I meant it, that I liked sucking him and would like to do it again sometime but he got that embarrassed look on his face again and didn't really say one way or the other. I told him I was horny and was going to go home and jack off, and asked if he'd touch me just so I'd have something else to think about to help me along, but he refused. I got the hint and left, figuring that would be the end of that.

But I was wrong. (To be continued.)