This is a story that involves sex between males. If such a story is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue, go and surf elsewhere.
This is a work of fiction.
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Do You Remember '68? Chpt. 1
If you remember the sixties you didn't live through them, they say. I remember them too well. 1968, the year of the Prague spring, the struggle against the Vietnam war, Martin Luther King assassinated, the Beatles start Apple, Paris ...., you can read about it all. Love was in the air, freedom; the previous year the Beatles had released "All you need is Love" that seemed to sum up the attitude for that time. But I remember it too well.
I was 18, last year of an all boys' (Grammar) school, testosterone levels were always high or super high. We somehow managed to work as we had so much energy but for most guys girls were the centre of most conversations, most thoughts. They were at the centre of my conversation too, but not my thoughts. I joined in, you had too. We got the details of every guy's contact with a member of the opposite sex. We never knew what was true, what was invented. Though I was sure that some guys were not exaggerating; I wanted to be part of that. We all carried a rubber in our pockets, the hidden idea being that we had used them and we just needed to be ready. I did take girls out but somehow it never really happened. We kissed, we groped a bit but I never really had the drive to push it further. But of course if the others knew that I had dated a girl, and I always made sure they did, I could make the same exaggerated claims. So I was one of the crowd, pretty good at maths and sciences so a useful guy to have around as well. But inside I knew I didn't fit in. I was so lonely.
I'm not sure when the term gay came to be used widely but at eighteen I don't think I knew it. I was vaguely aware of homosexuals, we used to make fun of certain teachers, but I wasn't like that was I? I was normal the other guys treated me as normal, yet inside!!! If I saw something vaguely pornographic (this was long before the Internet) it was always the man who interested me. In the showers after games the talk would always be of girls so the odd boner was a laugh but far from unusual but it was not the conversation that turned me on, it was the sight of those muscular bodies, hair on chest and legs and of course those cocks, openly on display. All sizes, shapes there were, but mostly uncut. I would go home with those images in my mind and wank myself into oblivion.
Homosexual acts had been legalized the previous year, but that was for the over 21's. Though for me that was hardly relevant; I didn't see myself like that. I left school but started work on a professional career rather than go to college; again working with a group of guys between 18 and 25. This time the conversations were more real. These guys did have real experience. This was trickier. I took to drinking. Just beer, could always have a good time and of course if I didn't make it with the girls I could blame what I had drunk. I did continue to date girls; I even had a couple of fucks with the girls who would let anyone. They were physically satisfying, but it could have been a wank really, it did make me feel better with the guys.
The sixties turned into the seventies and nothing resolved itself for me. I had learned a little more about gays, but that was all. I was confused and hugely frustrated. I changed direction by going to college. I had just turned 21 when I arrived for my first day. I settled in to my shared room with a guy called Peter,
"Not much privacy" I thought.
We got on very well, but he was obviously as straight as they come. He had a girlfriend in a nearby college that was why he had chosen this place. He was obviously very satisfied with that relationship. After a few days we were able to talk quite freely, I have always been a good listener. In fact he talked freely, I only up to a point. He didn't brag about what he and his girlfriend did it was just so natural the way he talked of his full relationship with her. As he often had a night away I had time to fantasize and give myself some relief for my aching cock. Pete had also said that I was welcome to use the room when he wasn't there. It was strictly against the rules to have someone stay the night, particularly a girl, which of course was what he thought I would want. I didn't really think I would need to but appreciated his friendship.
One Friday he was to be away for the weekend so I was alone. I took up my escape route from loneliness and went to the bar. It was that about 9pm that I got there. The TV was on so I watched that and had a drink. On a student income all drinks lasted a long time. Going to buy my second I saw a guy I knew vaguely from one of my seminar groups on psychology of Education. He was sitting alone and looked a bit like I felt.
"Hi there, Vince," I said. "Mind if I join you?"
He made room for me and I sat down. We started to talk, and as we talked I started to think that he was quite a nice guy. He was about my height, 5ft 10in but quite slim, blond hair which was quite long. As we talked I noticed more about him, and the more I noticed the more I liked. We talked about music, our course but not about girls. I made some comment about a girl in the bar and he made a kind of non committal reply. Perhaps you don't believe me; here I was at the age of 21 for the first time getting interested in a guy. Yes I had come to the realisation that I was attracted to men, to dicks, to male bodies, but always in general. I could throw a boner at the sight of virtually any cock. But here I was getting interested in this guy for his own sake. Yes I was also interested in his cock; I made some casual glances down below his belt but saw no indication of anything. The more we talked the more I felt something between us. I realised as we were talking that Vince had started drinking long before I had, and as well as casual conversation he started to open up. He spoke of his loneliness and his appreciation of being able to spend time with me. I don't know how I did it but I started to ask more probing questions and I discovered that he hadn't really had any girlfriends. I think if he had been more sober he would not have been so open. I wanted to ask him more questions about his sexual feelings but I didn't dare, I didn't even know how to phrase the questions. So the evening went on. I so wanted to spend more time with this guy, I thought he was like me, I thought he was going through the same torment that I was, but I just didn't know how to move things along.
This was the UK in 1971 and bars stopped serving drinks at 11pm. So there we were leaving the bar some 20 minutes later. As we left Vince realised that he'd had a bit too much to drink, he lived off campus and had come in his dad's car. So I said,
"Look Vince my roommate's away for the weekend, come back for a coffee and sober up a bit or you could even stay over".
What made me go that far I don't know; perhaps the drink had made me bolder or was it that healthy sexual drive that I had not found for women? Whatever it was Vince found a phone to ring home to say he was staying over with a mate and we went to my room.
I made the coffee, and we continued to talk. I just couldn't move the subject matter on; Vince too became ill at ease.
"Have I blown it?" I asked myself.
Then Vince said that he was feeling ill, he went to the bathroom, came back and said that he needed to sleep, he lay down on my bed and was off in an instant. He was fully clothed,
"What should I do?" I thought,
So I thought that I had better take his shoes off. This I did.
"Further?" I asked myself "What was my motive."
I was now pretty keen to see what was under those jeans of his. He then seemed to come to a little.
"Hey man you'd better get undressed before you pass out again", I said.
"Can you help me mate" he replied.
"Sure", I responded as casually as I could.
So I helped him off with everything except a pair of tight underwear. He lay back again and went to sleep. By this time I was totally confused about what to do. I undressed myself, again down to my underwear. I sat there; I was by then too aroused to think of sleep. There was this guy just a few feet from me, slightly tanned swimmer's body with only a small piece of fabric separating my eyes from what I wanted to see and touch and .... I wasn't sure what else.
I started to rub myself having become very hard during the last few minutes. I took my cock into my hand and slowly moved it, rubbing the shaft. I pulled my foreskin over the head and then slowly pulled back down so the cockhead was like a polished piece of wood with a trail of pre cum flowing down. I continued this slow wanking motion imagining that it was Vince doing it to me and that it was his cock that I had in my hand.
I had never heard of edging then, but that's what I did, slowly wanking for I don't know how long, mesmerised by this magnificent body in front of me, wanting to see it in its full glory but too scared to act, I didn't want to take advantage of him. I was also scared that it was simply my imagination that was working overtime. As I took in this body what I didn't do was look at his face. He moved slightly, I stopped ready to cover myself up, but Vince moved his hand down to his crotch. I caught my breath,
"What's going to happen now?" I asked myself.
He started to touch himself and I could see the outline of his cock get more defined; I thought he was dreaming. I copied his motions then he coughed slightly. I looked up suddenly, his eyes were open. I moved quickly to cover up, trying to hide what I had been doing. But he was smiling, not laughing, not angry, not shocked, just smiling.
"How long you been doing that?" he asked me,
"Since you went to sleep" I confessed.
"And are you doing it because you're looking at me?" he asked.
"Yes", I whispered and then repeated it more clearly, "Yes".
In one bound he was out of the bed in front of me, I stood up and our lips met. Gently at first then more insistently; our first kiss. The first real kiss of my adult life, expressing what I really felt rather than what I thought I ought to feel. Our mouths opened and our tongues began to explore each other's mouth. We held each other tightly; I could feel his cock pushing eagerly against mine. We started to grind our hips together. The sensations going through my body were unlike anything I had experienced before. Vince began to explore my body with his hands; he rubbed my cock, and for the first time pushed down my pants and put his hands around my throbbing member. I felt my knees weaken. Then I pushed my hands into his pants, around his ass cheeks gently massaging them for a moment, but I needed to get hold of my prize, that which had been the object of my interest, fascination and desire for so many years. But this time it was not just any cock that drew me, but this cock, on this guy who was turning my world upside down. I pushed down his pants and felt his magnificent pole. Straight, rigid, and iron hard it was.
We lay down on the bed holding each other's cocks in our hands. We started to wank each other, then I was fucking his hand, he did the same to me. Somehow we maintained a rhythm, faster and faster we went. I wanted to cum, I needed to cum, I was desperate to cum, and I wanted it to be this guy who brought me to my climax. It didn't last very long until we both exploded within moments of each other.
We lay there, cum everywhere, and fell asleep in each other's arms.