Saturday, January 21, 2012
I opened by chance "gay project" and I started to read, it’s really amazing for me to find myself at ease here, nothing is too much or too little, there are just the lives of gay guis as they are. I never thought to write to someone to talk about myself so intimately but since there is the anonymity I opened a new email and I am determined. I thought of writing to ask for an opinion, or just to speak about my mind, on an issue that now is buzzing in my head a lot and that is the relationship between sex and affection, that is meaning of the sex when you fall in love with a boy .
I start from the beginning. I am 21 years old, studying at university, I never had a real social life, friends or anything like that, at school I played the play of others, I pretended to be straight, as I think it's almost mandatory to do so, I had my little falling in love with a mate, a straight guy, I've suffered at the beginning, then I accepted everything. At University you can find a lot of hot guys you like but it's like at school, all straight. We study and in practice we have nothing better to do, even during the breaks, when teachers change, I never go out of the classroom and spend my time re-ordering notes. At home, then fully comedy, I’m only child, shamelessly pampered by my mom and two aunts living at my home, not by my father who at least doesn’t asphyxiates me. At home I haven’t any gay book or gay film. I never speak about girls, this is obvious, but neither about guys, I can speak about my friends only for study and exams. Apparently no one is asking too many questions. I never heard at home the classic question: "Do you have a girlfriend?". In such an environment, guarded in practice on sight and without any kind of occasions, for me, sexuality has always been a problem. I cannot talk to anyone at any level and I have to be careful not to even be in front of my TV when they send some news about gays. They are not homophobic, just believe that gay people live on other planets and that "we, normal people, have nothing to do with those" exact words of my aunt. I discovered masturbation quite late, at 15, because since that time these topics have been regularly set aside as if total ignorance could prevent who knows what. I was so far away from sexual things that when I masturbated for the first time and I got a lot of ejaculation I was worried because I had not really understood what it was and thought there was something wrong and that the white stuff was perhaps due to the fact that I gave off too much and that I had broken something inside, maybe in the kidneys. And then I could not talk to anyone, I was really afraid of being hurt, that I measured the fever many times because I thought something would happen to me but nothing happened. At the time I could not even look at the internet because I did not have a computer of mine and search sex on my father’s computer would sound very strange to me. Then my parents are Catholic and, at least to a certain point, even I’m, and then we went to church on Sunday, mom and aunts were always doing the communion and I was doing as well. In practice at 15 I went to confess every Sunday that I masturbated, I promised myself to stop but then absolutely, I inevitably had to fall back, in practice it was the same story every week. I never told the priest that I was gay because that is not sin, at least I understood it. In essence, a depressing thing, a struggle with myself that was repeated every week. Then when I was 16 my parents gave me my first computer of my own and there I was the mother of invention, I have studied with great care as you put the password so no one could access my computer, I think my father would not have ever done such things for reasons of principle (and I respect him because he respects me) but my mother would put her hands there, and I'm sure she thinks it is the duty of a good mother to meddle in the affairs of the son, but finally, put the password, I could feel comfortable. I could lock myself in my room, but this would not have been tolerated, but I had my computer where no one could be in the way of my business. I rearranged the furniture in my room and put my desk looking toward the door, so no one could enter without me noticing him and I placed the location of my computer so I could have time to change the page if someone had walked into. Internet for me meant especially pornography. At first it was just an obsession, I could not wait, in the evening, to put myself in front of the computer even if I had to wait until all were gone to bed. At first it was really a frenetic hunt for free porn sites, but I was and I'm still very selective, porn, yes, but there must be something sweet, affectionate, otherwise I change. I took a huge collection of photos, not video, looking for my ideal physical model of boy and then I worked on trying to build my fantasy movie with a story of a boy, a kind of tender love story and also sex, all mixed together. All my sexuality was reduced to masturbation and these fantasies, but I liked a lot. I was not frustrated or thinking that I was really missing something, or at least I did not think so until recently.
And here begins the second part of the story. I'm pretty tall and very thin, and after a disturbing flue, the family doctor insisted that I could practice sports. At first I just didn't want to because I had never done such things, even as a child, then my parents insisted and I started to think that in fact it could also have a purpose in a sexual way, so I accepted, three times a week in a swimming pool close to my home (I go there on foot in 20 minutes). I go there in the afternoon at 18.00 in order to have a little free time to devote to other things. The first time I went there to register and pay the fee I was upset: a nice place, very clean and very well equipped, I was put at the beginners course and I did know the coach, a guy about 25/30 maximum, beautiful, with a beautiful smile and an athletic handshake. However it was a very short conversation. In the afternoon I bought swimsuit, bathrobe, towel and bag, I tried the swimsuit the less compromising and useful to defend more in case of erection and then I got just an erection paranoia: what if it happens to me? And I started going back and forth: I'll go or not go? And then I wondered if the showers had partitions and many other such things, however I decided to go swimming wearing my swimsuit under my trousers to overcome at least the first embarrassed, then, if necessary, I could get away 10 minutes before the others and go in the locker room when no one was there. I was very uncertain, however, my parents had paid money in order to let me practice sports and then I was expected to do so, in short, at 17.45 o'clock, the day after, I made my entrance into the pool, the coach was there, we shook hands with other boys. Guys more or less about my age where many, in all about a dozen on the 15 scheduled. The coach told us to sit on the benches poolside waiting "those" of the previous course to get out of the locker room, a course for girls, so you cannot get in the dressing room until they have finished, the coach told us in a mischievous smile very spontaneous, I could say typically straight, which led me to exclude him from the number of interesting guys. Meanwhile, I eyed three boys pretty good and in particular one of the three who had reacted in an embarrassed way to the coach’s speech. Then after minutes we entered the locker room I took a seat on the bench right next to that guy, I do not know if he realized he was embarrassed but he really was. I had already my swimsuit on and I was pretty quiet, but he put on the swimsuit there, but in a special way. He had a very long shirt (I think he had it chosen for that very reason), first he pulled out the edges of the shirt that practically covered the entire "x area" then he lowered his trousers pulling them from the bottom, without raising flaps of the shirt, then he pulled down pants with a very similar maneuver, and put on the swimsuit and to bring it up took it form over his shirt, in practice it all lasted no more than 10 seconds and, of course, I saw nothing, then he took off his shirt and I've saw him with only the swimsuit on. He was beautiful! A hundred times better than me! In the meantime I had taken off my trousers and shirt and I was in my swimsuit too. I searched his x zone and in practice I didn’t see anything, obviously he was so embarrassed that the situation gave him no sexual reaction, for me it was not exactly like that, but my swimsuit was pretty adequate and contained me fine, however I tried to distract me to lower that principle of erection. During the lesson there were other people, there was the coach and then I got distracted. However, the guy threw furtive glances to me every now and then, and sometimes I even caught him looking at me. In practice, I wondered what he would do at the end of the lesson, if I could see him naked and what should I do with showers. Then the time came. We went into the locker room and he repeated the same maneuver he had done when he put on the swimsuit, exactly on the contrary, in practice it dried his chest, put the "drop down" shirt and then took off the swimsuit, dried himself and put on his briefs, and always under the flap of the shirt, this time everything was very fast and I did not see anything. I put on the robe, dried and got dressed under my bathrobe, but I can say right in the most beautiful moment my bathrobe opened and I saw him throwing the eye over there, suddenly he turned away and apologized. A very unusual thing in a locker room of a swimming pool. I finished in a few seconds to get dressed, red-faced with embarrassment, but I did not want to lose contact with him, even if, instead of seeing him, he had been who had seen me. While he was putting things in the bag I thought to ask him why he apologized but probably it would create embarrassment so I just asked if it was the first time he was in the pool (stupid question), and from there we started talking a little, he was relieved that I had not given weight to the episode of the bathrobe. We went to the bar, had a drink then I asked if he had a car, he said no and I offered to accompany him home because, unusually for my habit of walking, I came by car. I took him home, rather distant, about 20 minutes by car, we spoke only of sport and training, when he left, he greeted me with a nice handshake, very determined. I'll call him Mark, but actually he has an unusual name that inspires me very gently. My parents at home noticed that I got good experience in the pool and they were happy. I know Mark has completely changed my life, not that apparent, of course, but the sexual life. In practice it is almost completely eclipsed the era of pornography and started the era of Mark. I'm in an immense tenderness and this is the point, it is a sexual tenderness, practically all of my sexuality is dedicated only to him and all my mental films have a single protagonist. I love him because it's a good guy, if possible even more clumsy than me, but I also want him sexually, and I'm not ashamed to say so. We were in the early days of embarrassing situations in which I felt guilty because I had not spoken to him so clear, for example, sometimes in the evening I called him on the phone, I told him that I could not say too much because my parents where at home and I did not have the privacy I wanted, but he called me a lot, usually half an hour and more and it was the same for me, and those calls have a strong erotic value even now, when I know he’s going to call me I go to bed and talk on the phone while masturbating under the covers. Of all this I feel a bit guilty, because he doesn’t know, but I would have liked him to do the same. Over time, the pool, things are a little changed, and we became real friends, I used to take him at home and get him back home three times a week and we talked about a lot of thing but never about things related to sex. In the locker room the embarrassment of the first time had slowly passed, he used no more his "drop down" shirt and changed by my side remaining naked for a second, just like I started to do, and he used to give me a look at that time, just as I did with him, it seams too little thing, but I looked at him and he pretended it was nothing. At the end between us it was a kind of sexual contact accepted. I had noticed that, as Americans would say, he is well endowed in that department and I cannot deny that when I think about that my blood is boiling. Then an event occurred that changed things completely. One evening, after I drove him home, we were talking a long time in the car and in practice we have declared each other. Before he made a long preamble that could mean only one thing, then I asked if I could hold his hand and he said yes, it was a close intense moment that never ended, I told him: "Do I embarrass you if I say that I’m sexually aroused?" He said: "It happens to me too." It had been more than five months since our first meeting. Embracing Mark, I can finally kiss him, touch him even intimately knowing that he's fine with that and see that there really is an experience sexuality in unison, with practically identical reactions, I see a guy who "wants" to stay with me, I think we are a couple and this probably will not collapse, such tings make me feel great. Now we've been together many months and my life changed. My sexuality belongs to Mark. Unfortunately we cannot live our feelings in the light of the sun, but there is nothing I would change on the world for the joy of being near him, because he's a sweet guy, a bit as I think I’m, but he is also much sensual. When we are intimate it seems to me to dream. Unfortunately we attend different studies and probably would have very different tasks, we live our history in secret, and can meet once a week and spend together Saturday afternoon and Sunday in a small house outside of town in the Apennines, the last few months it was bitterly cold and stay embraced under the covers was just something very tender. It's great to live together sex and tenderness. Sometimes I'm afraid it's only a dream and that it could end at any moment, when he’s out traveling by car I make him send me a text message every time he arrives at destination, and I do the same with him. We must save our happiness. That's why I wanted to tell the boys of gay project that sex and tenderness are one thing, and happiness is possible! So brave! An affectionate greeting to you, Project, who put on this project. Of course you can publish my mail. A hug to all my dear.