[WARNING:Mom, you probably don’t want to read this one.]
So you’ve spent some time reading this magazine. (Yes, Instinct considers what you do when you’re not looking at the half-naked studs “reading.”) And, really, why not have a good time while you are here, right? Unfortunately, we Instinct-ers have found that most of you horny homos didn’t start out on the best foot when it came to discovering the joys of man love. That’s because you didn’t realize you needed to start on your knees.
Sooooo… The First Time, our Big Moment, the Original Sin that leads you into the abyss of abomination also known as Homosexuality: How was yours? I threw that question out at a lot of guys and found that “The First” was usually BAD. Sometimes REALLY BAD. I’ve heard the boring (“He came in my mouth and I threw up.”), the weird (“He wanted to use embalming fluid as lube.”) and the downright wrong (“My ass inverted and fell out.”). But it’s so rare to hear about the decent initiations. My Editor wanted to run something “nice and flowery” for a change, and well, since it is Instinct, we’ll assume that he meant a piece about de-flowering. After interviewing well over 50 people, I have only six stories to share with you. So, get ready, get set, get lubed, because here they are: The Best First Times.
f*cking on the front nine (inches)
We’ll start with me, just to be fair. The first time I had sex was way back in 1986 at the tender age of 13. I realize that you might be shocked and appalled at my age, but I was a late bloomer, what can I say? I was living in Montana at the time, and there was no Pride Montana to help me get some, so I had to be coercive and manipulative. I wanted this boy because he was the hottest thing in school. Unfortunately, the only way to get some of him was to be in class with him, seeing as I had no other reason to strike up a conversation, really. (I mean, what was I going to say? “Hey, how are you doing? My name’s Kevin, and I want to tongue your hole?”) I somehow managed to weasel my way into his manly shop class. I never once complained about the smelly teacher, the grease stains or the broken fingernails. Well once, maybe, but only with my cheerleader friends. We did actually have to learn things in this class, which was good for me, since it gave me a chance to help him with his homework. Being the kind and generous person I am, I offered to study with him. At my house. After school. And he could stay for dinner. If he wanted.
We walked towards my home, complaining about the major injustices of the school system, the length of the cheerleaders’ skirts, that gym class sucked and a bunch of other bullshit. I didn’t care what he thought about school or cheerleaders or gym; I was busy trying to figure out how to get him out of his clothes once we got to my house. We were walking across a golf course because it was a short cut, and we were headed through the rough in a nice patch of trees. All of a sudden, he stopped and opened his fly to pee. Can I just tell you? His dick was huge. So I stared. Hard. He noticed and smiled at me and then asked if I liked to suck dick. I couldn’t speak, and he told me that he had and he liked it. Then he laughed low and sauntered over to me, dick in hand, and grabbed my pants and pulled me to him. He kissed me so hard I thought he broke my lip open. Big damn tongue, too. And he wasn’t only interested in receiving head. And let’s just say we both got a hole-in-one. I will admit that it wasn’t all easy and painless, and actually I had the worst time later that night, for three reasons. One, my jaw was tired. Two, my ass was sore. And three, I had to explain to my mother why I wasn’t home until seven when school was out at three. I think I just told her that something came up with a friend.
Anthony, a 21-year-old college student, met his first off the Internet three years prior. He was a bi-curious 19-year-old Puerto Rican with a girlfriend. “He wasn’t all that good-looking, but we still went on two dates. He came over to ‘watch movies’ at my house. I knew that something was going to happen when I invited him over and we decided to watch the movies in our boxers-to be more comfortable, of course. I was sporting black plaid, he was sporting the American Flag, and we were both sporting flagpoles in our pants. He ended up lying on my bed while I sat in a chair as we watched I Know What You Did Last Summer. He soon looked at me and gave me this really corny line and gestured for me to join him on the bed.
“At this point I’d never been kissed by anyone, ever, with a tongue. I laid down, he straddled me and I freaked. He leaned down to kiss me, but that consisted of wiggling his tongue in my mouth because I didn’t know what to do. He asked if I was okay after he pulled away, thinking I was damaged. Far from it, as I was focused on other things, like that my flag had fallen off of my flagpole. The guy asked if it was alright to go down on me. I said ‘yes,’ and he did, but not before he kissed me all the way down my chest and stomach and I giggled like hell. He wasn’t great to look at but his technique was great; I was grabbing my pillow so hard that I thought it might rip. Whenever I think of sex, I think of that amazing head.”
Having sex under your parent’s roof seems to be a common theme, but how many of your parents knew you were a cocksucker the first time you had sex? “My mother had invited the neighbors over for dinner,” says Sammy, a 24-year-old waiter. “I must’ve been about half-tanked by the time they got there. I was 21, but just coming to terms with my sexuality and not real comfortable with it yet. I was not out at all, but my mom kinda knew something was up. I really didn’t want to have dinner with them-until I saw their son, who was 24 and was just there to help with the move. He was hot as shit, and I was soon completely tanked. I don’t know how I kept quiet during dinner, but I did. After all was said and done, our parents decided to play bridge, which left the two of us to find something entertaining. He suggested that we head downtown, which is where he lived. I said sure, but somehow we never made it. We ended up at the Silverado and were dancing and drinking and having a gay old time. I never told him I was gay-he just knew-and by midnight he had called his parents and asked them to tell my parents that I was too tipsy to drive and would be back tomorrow. We left the club, making out on the streets as we walked towards his apartment. We didn’t make it all the way, and ended up fucking in the elevator of his building. I remember the sensation of going up and down and down and up, and I’m pretty sure the elevator was stopped at the time. It was wild. By the way, we’ve been together ever since.”
Music to Our Rears
Well, while that fairy tale ending is a great thing, other fairies have other tales. Scott, a 30-year-old fitness instructor, was 15 when he decided he needed to go find a gay man and have anal sex. “I went to the Waxy Maxi’s Record Store in D.C. and I was looking at the new Poison album (don’t ask!) when I noticed this blond man peeking over the aisle at me. So I moved on down to Motley CrŸe records and he sauntered onto my side of the aisle and kept glancing at me. I decided that I needed to leave the store for a smoke. If he really wanted me he’d follow me out the door. Well, he followed me out. We were chatting up a bit, and I didn’t want him to know that I was this inexperienced virgin, so I told him I was a prostitute and >>
got it all the time, but I wouldn’t charge him, since he was cute. He promptly asked me to go back to his house, with his pool and his sauna-and his gay porn tapes. Now mind you, I had stolen my parents car to get to the mall to find a man, so I was dealing with a time limit, but I just needed to get laid. We went back to his place and the first thing he did was pop in a video. Then, he pulled down his pants, and his cock was like 13-inches long-when it was soft! Needless to say, I was a little taken aback, but I promptly hopped to it and started suckin’ him off. Now, pan to the porno where they are doing an upright 69 (where one guy is standing up and the other has his legs wrapped around the standing guy’s head) and he wants to try it. I figured, he thinks I know what I’m doing, so fuck it, I’ll try anything once. I wrap my legs around his head, my arms around his waist and start sucking. The boy got so hot and bothered, he dropped me right on my head. Thankfully, my Aqua-netted hair saved my head from cracking open. He reached down and picked my newly matted, mangled and inch-and-a-half shorter body off the ground and tossed me on the bed. Then that boy threw on a condom and impaled my ass. I thought I was in heaven.”
Speaking of finding a groove, Tim, a 23-year-old computer geek, had the most musical first time. “After spending weeks basically stalking this pretty boy in school I finally got up the nerve to ask him if he wanted to hang out. See, this was high school, and it wasn’t unheard of for gay teens to be out, but neither of us were. I don’t even know how I picked him up on my gaydar, but there he was, in all his tall, dark and handsome glory. We went on one date, and thankfully I only needed the one to get what I wanted. After a bad movie and some coffee I finally got him alone in his room, and after I turned out the lights I made my move. I pulled him onto his bed with me and I kissed him. We started to fondle each other, shed our clothes in nothing flat, and turned on the stereo to a local station to cover up any noises. His parents were home, and we didn’t want to have them interrupting us. We hopped right back onto the bed and were going at it hot and heavy, rolling around and trying to keep our lips touching as our hands roamed over our bodies. Then came the moment, the unrolling of the condom and the opening of the lube. It was my first time with anyone, but not his. I didn’t know if I could do it, but he assured me I could. He said he’d go slow, that he’d take his time, and that it would feel great, so I got on my hands and knees, ass up to the world, and let him work his way inside me. I thought I was gonna die, it hurt so bad. He stopped, waiting for me to say it was OK to move, and slowly-incredibly slowly-it somehow went from this blinding, searing pain to something more, um, pleasurable. And I remember the music very well. As he was able to start moving and really get working on my ass, his stereo was playing ‘Another One Bites the Dust’!”
So you see, just to prove it to the GOP, sometimes sex is good. It’s just hard to imagine that everyone had bad first experiences. If it was so bad, why would we keep doing it? So, for those of you who are virgins, or dried up and re-virginized, know that when you do make a new first, you can make it the best ever. And you can write to Instinct to share it.
[This article was written for Instinct Magazine and was published in late 2001]