Thank you again for all those who have taken the time to write to me. I appreciate it. This was one of the most difficult chapters to write. I hope it strikes a chord for some people. I welcome any constructive criticism as well.
Not a Matter of Choice
Part 3: Dichotomy
The first time I had a sexual encounter other than the stuff my cousin and I did was the summer after my freshman year at Rice.
Through my freshman year, I had been very involved in a conservative evangelical Christian college movement called Campus Crusade for Christ. The organization was adamant that homosexuality was a sin and even had entire seminars on this topic at our various conferences. I wanted to be a good Christian, so I tried burying my gay feelings all year. I even tried to stop masturbating. My record was 42 days (my other record was jacking off 5 times in one day). I read the Bible daily and memorized many passages. I even memorized an entire book of the Bible, the book of Ephesians, and I could recite it word for word. I made a friend from Crusade who was also in my organic chemistry class, and I asked him to be my spiritual accountability partner. Mark readily agreed, and we spent many hours together studying the Bible, praying with each other, and sharing our weaknesses and sin areas, including lustful thoughts and masturbation. To Mark's credit, he was one of the first people I ever shared my homosexual thoughts with who didn't turn away from me and reject me. That first year, I did my best to repress any sexual thoughts whatsoever. I really thought that maybe God would answer my prayers, as I was doing His work on campus and leading people to Christ. Well, that didn't happen.
Earlier in the year, I had heard that there was a bathroom on the fourth floor of the library where you could get blow jobs. Of course, I assiduously avoided even looking for the place in fear of putting my eternal soul in jeopardy. Still, I was curious about how one could just "get a blow job" in a public bathroom. I put it out of my mind though, as that wouldn't be a Christian thing to do. Eventually, I just forgot about the bathroom thing.
The summer after my freshman year, I worked for a PhD as part of a research training program sponsored by the Baylor College of Medicine. My advisor had me do various tasks, one of which was to look up journal articles on his research topic. One of those forays brought me to the Rice library. While looking for these articles, I realized I needed to go to the bathroom. So, I found the closest one and went inside. It was a small bathroom with only two urinals, two stalls, and two sinks. The far stall was occupied, so I took the one next to it. As I was doing my business, I naturally started looking around. Well, I noticed a small two inch hole drilled through the wall in between the two stalls. Being a bit of a voyeur, I wanted to take a peek at who might be on the other side. It was set back a bit, so I had to lean back to get a good look. The hole was just big enough to get a view of this guy's hairy leg. But, as I continued leaning back and got closer to the hole to shift my viewing angle, I could see that he had a hard on and was stroking his cock. Of course that got me instantly hard, and I started stroking myself as well. Those clever Rice engineers had designed the location of the hole well. As I had to lean back to see the guy next to me beat his meat, that opened up his own field of vision to watch me flog mine. After I little bit, he disappeared from view. I wondered where he went when I looked down. He was staring up at me from underneath the partition. I could see he was a middle aged man, dark complexion, dark eyes, and a mustache. He beckoned to me with his hand to come down. So, I knelt down and squatted so that my dick went under the stall. I thought he was going to jack me off, but instead, I felt his warm mouth engulf my raging hard on. He applied constant suction as he went up and down on my dick, all the way from my pubes to the six and a half inches to my head. It was the most incredible feeling I had ever felt. It didn't take me long to come, just less than 30 seconds. I was so out of it, I didn't even tell him when I shot my load, and he took the whole thing down his gullet. This was in the early 90's, so AIDS was out there and still largely misunderstood. But, we knew that exchange of bodily fluids was a chance to contract the virus. It was probably the safest load of cum he had ever had. After I came, I felt immediately guilty, and I raced out of the bathroom, barely getting my pants back up. I found another bathroom and washed my dick with soap and water to get off his saliva, just in case it had HIV virus in it. I vowed never, ever to do that again. That resolution lasted about three weeks.
After a few weeks, I couldn't stand it anymore, so I went back to the bathroom. I came into the stall and someone else was in the stall. I went in the open stall, pulled my pants down, and sat down. After a while, I noticed that the tip of the guy's shoe was tapping up and down. It was a very subtle sign, but unmistakable. I returned the tap to let him know that I was interested. So, I leaned back and started stroking my cock, producing a fair amount of precum as I got turned on. This went back and forth a few times to let us both know the other was interested. Not a word was said. The guy next to me then got off the toilet and leaned under the partition. He had nice muscular legs covered with blond hair, and his cock was seven inches, cut, and thick. I stroked him a few times, and I decided to go for it and took it into my mouth. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of his thick cut meat moving in and out of my mouth. I went on for a few minutes, and he whispered, "I'm gonna cum." So, I took my mouth off his cock and jacked him a few times until he came several shots onto the floor. He whispered, "Thanks," and walked out. I then furiously jacked off and quickly came over my hand, cleaned up, rinsed out my mouth, and walked out.
So, after a while, the fourth floor men's bathroom became my regular hideout. I found a set of classrooms across from the bathroom entrance, one of which had a line of sight into the bathroom. I would study there, and when someone walked in, I would wait a while and then head on in. Sometimes, I got lucky and had some fun, sometimes not. One guy and I played around for what seemed to be almost an hour, trading hand jobs from underneath the stall, until he finally finished himself off with my hand wrapped around his. He came torrents it seemed. Unfortunately, I never saw him. One person was obviously older, very overweight, and had a micropenis. I think it was maybe four inches long and not much thicker than my thumb. I felt sorry for the guy, and I reasoned that he needed to get off just as much as anyone else, so I jacked him off with my thumb and index finger until he came.
One guy and I played with each other back and forth for a while under the partition, and then he decided to come over to my side. He opened the door to his stall and walked around to mine. When I opened my stall door, I could see that he was in his late twenties or early thirties, dark medium length hair and brown eyes. He already had his dick out of his pants and was essentially standing out in the middle of the bathroom open to the world. He would have been caught by anyone coming into the bathroom, but this particular bathroom actually had two doors: one to the hallway, and then a small anteroom, then the inner door to the bathroom itself. So, a person had a bit more time to get things adjusted if someone started to come in. So this guy felt safe enough to just let his cock hang out. He reached down and touched my cock while I was still sitting on the toilet, but I was so keyed up that the moment he touched me, I started to cum. He saw me cum and chuckled a bit, as I was obviously very young and not good at controlling myself, stuffed himself back into his pants, and walked out.
I only saw some of the people I hooked up with from the bathroom. So, although it relieved some sexual tension and fed my voyeuristic desires, it didn't give me what I really wanted, which was a relationship. I had no idea how to meet other gay guys, and to tell the truth, I was still very conflicted about my sexuality and felt that it was sin. Still, I couldn't stop myself from having these sexual encounters, risky as they might be.
All through my three years in college and most of my time in medical school, I never had a real relationship. I had close, even intimate, nonsexual relationships with my Christian friends, and I would have completely anonymous sexually fulfilling but emotionally void encounters from the bathrooms. I was working hard in medical school, but when I wasn't studying, I was pretty depressed about what I saw was an incompatibility with my Christian faith and my sexual orientation. I finally decided to seek professional help to rid myself of this "gay demon" once and for all.
Ever since I came out to my parents when I was twelve, we barely discussed the topic of my being gay. Once, when I was running errands with my mother, she suddenly veered into an empty parking lot and asked me hesitatingly if what I told her all those years ago was still true, or if it was a phase. Knowing in my heart that I still had exclusively gay attractions but that telling her would break her heart, I lied and told her it was just a phase. Visibly relieved, she drove onward to our destination and never mentioned it again. But, once I decided I really did not want to be gay, I had to fess up to my parents. So, one night during my first year of medical school, I came to them while they were in bed and told them that I had lied previously when I told my mother that it was just a phase and that I still struggled daily with gay thoughts. I never told them about all the trysts I had, because that would have given them heart attacks. But I told them I wanted to change and wanted to go to counseling to help me do it. They readily agreed; anything to keep their son from being gay. So, in January '95 I started sessions with a counselor named David, referred by my former high school Sunday school teacher Tom.
David was an older gentleman, probably in his early 50's. He looked like Santa Claus without the beard. He was a big guy, about 5'11", with a balding head and a great big gut. Blue eyes sparkling with laugh lines creasing his eyes, he greeted me warmly by taking my hand in a firm hand shake. I sat down on his sofa and recounted why I was in his office and my hope to be free from homosexual feelings. He then told me that the sins of the fathers were visited upon the children to the fourth and fifth generations, and that maybe some sort of sin of my ancestors was causing my problem now. As we continued our counseling sessions, he also said that I was having homosexual feelings because I did not have a healthy, intimate, nonsexual relationship with a male role model, likely my father. Therefore, I craved that closeness and bonding with another guy and confused it with sex. (I told him that hypothesis was funny, because my pastor said it was because I didn't have an attachment to my mother.) So, David then strove to give me that "close, nonsexual" intimacy to supposedly fulfill my innate needs to bond with another man. That's when the trouble started.
The physical closeness started subtly and innocently in my mind. David took my hands in his, had me close my eyes, and told me to imagine a time in my life when I felt comforted. Then he took off my shoes and socks and massaged my feet. It was the first time I had a foot massage, and it felt wonderful! It was supposed to be an intimate, nonsexual contact, but I still developed an erection. I didn't say anything about it to him though. After that went so well, our sessions became more and more physical. In one session, he had me take off all my clothes and stand with my hands outstretched, imagining what Jesus might have felt when he was crucified. David then turned me around and took my cock into his hands. He took out a large nail the size of a bolt and pressed it to the base of my cock, saying, "I crucify this to the cross of Christ." Of course, having someone hold my cock caused me to fill up a bit, but the sight of an extremely large nail pressed into the base of my dick effectively prevented me from springing a full woody. That was the first time I was naked during a counseling session, but definitely not the last.
As time went on, our sessions became more and more physical in nature. I paid David $65 for an hour session, but as my appointment was always at the end of day, and he and I were the only ones in the office, the sessions frequently lasted much longer. One of our sessions lasted almost three hours, much of it taken up by him giving me a full body massage. Since high school, I gave back rubs, and in college, I used massages to get my hands on some very hot but totally straight guys who never realized I was totally getting off by giving them pleasure. But David's massage was the first time where I was on the receiving end. Since the massage session was so successful, he took it up another level. He had me again take off all my clothes, but this time, he took off his own clothes and held me to his hairy chest. He told me that I likely was not held and nurtured as a young child, and this is what I needed to heal my inner hurts. It felt good to be held, even by a fat, hairy guy in his 50's, so I didn't resist. Plus, under that big belly was one very sizable flaccid cock. It was five inches soft and thick besides. I wasn't attracted to David's body in the least bit, but his cock was another thing altogether. Three months after we started our counseling sessions, I saw David's hard on for the first time.
Through our time together, I had learned that David had been diagnosed with prostate cancer at the relatively young age of 43. He underwent a radical prostatectomy which left him unable to achieve a normal erection. He had tried Viagra but it gave him headaches and a blue visual haze. So, for the past year or so, he used injections of papavarin directly into his penis to get an erection. His next urology appointment to adjust his dose was coming up, and he invited me to join him. So, I skipped classes that day and went with him to his doctor's appointment. At first, the nurse wouldn't let me into the exam room, but upon David's insistence, she acquiesced. The nurse had David pull his pants down and expose his long cock, and she injected the medicine directly into the side of his penis. She then stepped out, as it took a bit of time for the medicine to work. Once the nurse stepped out of the exam room, David said to me, "Minh, it really works better if you massage the medicine into the penis. Would you mind doing that for me?" I felt conflicted about this. On one hand, I really wanted to grab hold of his long cock, but on the other hand, he was my counselor, the person I confided my deepest darkest secrets to. And he wanted me to massage his erection medicine into his cock? Well, I did it. And David started to develop an erection. By the time it was done, he had a very thick 8 1/2 cut cock pointed slightly upwards of horizontal. Then David said, "You know, I have the erection, but I don't know if it's going to work. Could you get some lube from the counter and stroke me?" My mind was reeling. Still, I did what he requested, and I got the KY jelly out, squirted some on my hand, and stroked my counselor's long hard cock. I wanted to please him and make him feel as good as had made me feel with his massages, but I was still working on giving up my gay thoughts. I knew that his big cock was definitely turning me on, so I forced myself to turn away as I continued to stroke him. After several minutes, he said, "I'm going to come," and he had a dry orgasm. His body shook several times, but since all the pipes were cut, he did not produce any sperm. Right after his climax, there was a knock on the door and the nurse opened the door a crack.
"Sir, are you doing ok so far?"
"Oh, yeah, just fine," he croaked. Luckily, she didn't fully enter the room, or she would have been treated to the sight of this young Vietnamese man (I looked more like a teenager back then though) holding a big slimy cock attached to a guy who was obviously post orgasmic. We quickly cleaned up and got ready for the doctor. He seemed satisfied with the dose of papavarin and wished us well as we left. No one was the wiser about our illicit sexual experience in the doctor's office.
The next week, David invited me to go camping with him. So, we packed up our gear and headed up to a campsite at Lake Livingston. We had been spending several hours at a time in counseling and just talking on the phone. I really trusted David with my heart and soul, and I was really looking forward to going on this weekend camp. David said that his two daughters were planning to come but couldn't make it. So, it ended up being David, myself, a guy named Matt who was my age whom David knew, and Matt's brother. Matt and his brother shared a tent, while David and I shared one. Friday night and Saturday, we all hung around, went hiking, grilled some food, and sat around the camp fire. It was a great time. Saturday evening everything went sour.
It started after we decided to call it a night. I decided to take a shower at the nearby facilities. When I got there and started to undress for the shower, David came in the shower area as well. Thinking nothing of it, I finished undressing and stepped into the shower. David finished stripping off his clothes and climbed into the same shower stall with me. That's when I started to get uncomfortable. I soaped up and did my business, trying hard to ignore him. But David didn't stop at just coming with me into the shower. He turned towards and brought me to him in a full-body embrace. "Minh, you feel so good against me. I'm really enjoying this. I'm so glad I know you. You've brought me so much joy in my life, and I'm really glad we've been able to spend time together. You feel so soft, kind of like my wife. You know, I really like it when she sucks my dick, but she doesn't hardly ever do it because she thinks it's gross."
As David continued to hug and caress me, a part of me responded physically to the attention and affection, and another part recoiled at what was happening. I didn't return his affections in the shower, and I finished washing myself up, trying to seem like I wasn't rushing. I got out of the shower, dressed, and walked back to the tent, while David finished his own shower. I felt very conflicted about the whole incident; I was both attracted and repulsed to the thought of doing anything with David. I knew it was wrong though, and I tried to chalk it up to David's natural affection for me. So, I lay on top of my sleeping bag and tried to go to sleep. David stepped into the tent shortly after me and climbed into his own sleeping bag. I eventually drifted off to sleep, still disconcerted about the whole event.
I woke up in the middle of the night with David on top of me. He was kissing me deeply, opening my mouth with his and pushing his tongue into my mouth, wrestling it around near my tonsils. It was the first time I had ever been French kissed by anyone. Again, I loved it, I hated it. I got really turned on, and developed an erection and was leaking profusely, my cock head peeking from under its hood. I started to run my hands up and down David's hairy back. He was a big guy, so my scrawny arms could only get around his flanks. He started to shiver and moan into my mouth. I knew that I was giving him pleasure. I thought seriously about taking David's cock into my mouth and sucking him off until he came, but I knew that was wrong.
"David, I'm really turned on, and I have a hard on. I want to suck your dick like you told me you liked, but I don't think I could or should do that."
"No, Minh, you're right. You shouldn't. What I think you should do is masturbate, so that way, you relieve the sexual tension you have. I'll stay here and watch. That way, you'll know what it's like to have someone look on when you masturbate, just like God is watching you when you sin," David reasoned.
I was so turned on and confused, I didn't even argue to try to get the point. I just knew that if I didn't get off, I would explode. So, David climbed off me and lay by my side as I took my cock into my right hand and stroked my cock with long, steady strokes. It did not take long for me to shake and moan, shooting my cum onto my stomach and chest. Now, some people are gushers and can put a hole into the wall behind them. I'm not. I'm more like Mt Kilauea. When I come, it barely clears my cock before oozing all over my hand. So, to have an orgasm actually fly out and hit me on the chest was highly unusual.
After I got done and cleaned myself up, David scooted himself next to me and put his whole body against me and his arm around me. I felt like I was suffocating, and I kept on having to lift up my head to try to get a breath of air. I felt like that rabbit that died in the arms of the guy in the book Mice and Men when it was suffocated by being loved too much and held too tightly. Each time I would sit up, David would pull me right back down to him. It was only after several attempts that I got out, but only under the excuse that I needed to use the bathroom. When I got out of the tent, it was like a palpable spirit of oppression was lifted from me. I was finally able to breathe. I couldn't go back into that tent, and in fact, I didn't want to be anywhere near the campsite. So, I went to the edge of the lake and tried to sit in the early morning sun, trying to pray and sort things out. It was like I had just come out of a battle, and I felt emotionally and spiritually bruised.
The rest of the day, I walked around in a bit of daze. The whole trip had changed for me. I kept a smile on my face, but it never reached my eyes. I was scared because I didn't want to go through it again. I had an appointment with David the Tuesday after the camping trip, and I always looked forward to our time together, but this time, I wanted to tell David that I was canceling our appointment. Every time I thought about spending more time with David, I found myself wanting to withdraw, but I knew we had to work through this. Even after all that emotional conflict, I still got turned on when I thought about that Saturday night, and I jacked off again to memories of David kissing and rubbing me. When I was done, I only felt more guilty and ashamed.
I decided to keep my appointment with David on Tuesday night, and I shared a little bit of what I felt over the weekend. David wept and asked for my forgiveness for his insensitivity. He said that he was having problems with his daughters, so he unconsciously looked to me to try to get some love and take some of the pain away. He asked me to forgive him and I did. Jesus forgave me after all, I reasoned, so it was the right thing to do to forgive David. So, I continued seeing him as my counselor.
After the camping trip, I vowed to myself that I wasn't going to get into the same situation with David as I did that weekend. Of course it didn't work out that way. As we continued our counseling sessions, we got more and more physical. It was common for me to spend our entire "counseling time" without a stitch of clothes on. Then, David started wearing less and less clothes. Finally, we were just both naked for the majority of our counseling time. It didn't stop there. David had learned that my nipples were particularly erogenous zones for me, so he would suckle and tweak my nipples for 15-20 minutes, getting me writhing and pooling a bunch of precum onto my pubic bone. I would tell him I was really horned up, so he started to jack me off at the end of our sessions. Pretty soon, I was regularly performing oral sex on David during every one of our sessions, while he jacked me off. He told me that it was better for me to have sex with him than with strangers, and if he got me off, then I wouldn't have the desire to have other sexual encounters because my sexual appetite would be satisfied. Now, when has anyone heard of a young man's sexual appetite ever be satisfied? So I continued to occasionally find people to have sex with at one of the many trysting places I found at Rice. I asked David to suck me, but he said he wouldn't do that. But he had no problems with me sucking him off at every visit. Once, I got my dick in his mouth when we were in sort of a 69 position on the floor. I was sucking his soft cock (he never got hard during our sex times because of his prostate cancer, but he could still have dry orgasms), and my dick was close to his face. I had a raging hard on, so I maneuvered my cock near his mouth and basically pushed it in. I thrust in and out a few times, but I could tell he wasn't enjoying it, so I pulled out.
David was also the first man to put anything into my ass. Fortunately for me, it was only his finger and not his club of a dick. He told me that since his prostate cancer, he had always wanted to feel a prostate. But, he never had anyone who he could ask until me. "So, can I lube you up and put a finger inside to feel what a prostate was like," he asked.
"Sure, I guess," I replied. I was in medical school at the time, and I reasoned that if I was going to expect patients to let me perform rectal exams on them, I should be willing to let someone else perform rectal exams on me. So, I bent over the couch, and David got out the KY. He slicked up his index finger and slid it knuckle deep into my hole.
"Oh, so that's what a prostate feels like," he exclaimed as he moved his finger up and down and around my prostate. It was a strange sensation for me. It made me want to urinate. I don't think I got turned on or found it pleasurable at all. It was more clinical for me. I wonder if my first introduction to anal sex through David colored my interpretation of my physical sensations and psychologically turned me off to being a bottom. For years afterwards, I was a complete top. And even when I had my first time receiving anal sex during my last year in medical school, I didn't like it at all. It's only been in the past few years since I've been with my lover that I have been able to give myself up fully into the sensations and pleasures of being a bottom. Now, I actually ask for it some times!
After a while, David and I were spending less and less time talking and counseling and most of the time having sex. I then came to the realization that I was still paying David for counseling sessions to help me rid myself of my homosexual desires, when all that was really happening was that I was servicing him orally and then paying him for it! So, I gradually stopped our sessions and cut most of my ties with him. He still emails me on occasion, including to wish me a happy birthday. Every now and then, I actually write back to him. I used to harbor a good deal of resentment towards him, but now, I don't. What he did was not ethical, but it was not like I didn't enjoy a part of it. What David did help me do was to resolve within myself that I was gay, and there was nothing I would be able to do to change that. So, after my time with David, I came to terms with my sexuality, and I started accepting myself as a gay man. But, although I was willing to admit that to myself, I still wasn't willing to come out to others except for a very select few. One thing though, I haven't been able to get myself to a counselor since my experience with David.