When It Began for Me...When It Began for Me...My first gay experience was at age 28. It wouldn't be wrong to say that I had curiosity about man-to-man sex from earlier years -- my freshman roommate in college was openly gay, after all -- but I had lived with the popular straight misconception that most gay men would be like me: total tops. That fear pushed me well into adulthood before I dared take the first step.
I was living in Israel, married, waiting for my first child to be born, and not feeling too happy about a lot of things. I was playing in an orchestra at the time, and we had just finished a concert in a beachside hotel. I had gone down to the beach, not realizing that I was at an unofficial gay Strip of the beach and was next to Tel Aviv's most frequented gay cruising area. A young man, rather soft spoken and genteel -- but otherwise very masculine acting -- approached me. He was almost shy in the way he spoke to me.
I remember how he asked me what brought me to that area of the beach, that he had never seen me there before. I told him that it was true that I didn't usually go there, but I had played a concert there. He asked me if I were American, and I told him I was. I kept seeing him looking me over; I was in my twenties, and I knew that I was impressive to behold. I kept seeing him looking at me intensely almost everywhere, with the joy obvious in his eyes, but I was still afraid.
At a certain point, he started to pat my knee as he spoke. I suspected he wanted a chance to touch my body and, for once, I didn't want to stop him. I was right; I could see him getting hard through his jeans. What I didn't know then -- but learned later -- was that the fact that he was in long jeans was a sign that he was submissive, whereas I was in a swimsuit and later wore shorts, a sign that I was a Top. Of course, none of those things registered with me then, but later I learned what they meant.
We were walking up to the park near the beach when he said to me, "Come here. I want to show you something good." He led me into an area totally surrounded by thick bushes. I saw that it was an ideal place to meet with someone for an encounter. I was still afraid, but as he slumped to his knees before me, I wasn't about to leave him. He looked up at me with a look that I've come to love, the look of a submissive male about to please his man. He said to me, "You're going to enjoy this." He then undid my shorts, slid them down, took down my underwear, and gently took my now hard cock into his mouth. He began to suck it lovingly -- yes, lovingly -- and to fondle my ass as he did it. I was still scared -- I didn't know him and had no idea what he might do to me -- but I didn't want to leave. It took me only seconds before I shot my load. He looked excited, yet disappointed.
I was afraid and wanted to run -- only he said to me in a voice that riveted me to the place, "Why are you afraid? Didn't you like it?"
For some reason, I stayed; I told him, "Yes, I liked it."
He said, "So why are you leaving? Don't you want to do it again?"
I was stunned; he really wanted me again!
I started to calm down; I saw he meant me no harm. I told him that it was the first time for me. He looked at me with surprise and said, "I can't believe that. Nobody ever tried that with you before?" I assured him nobody had. I apologized if I had disappointed him. He said, "No, it's just that it was too fast. You probably haven't gotten off in days."
I told him, "It was last night."
He laughed and said, "Are you serious?"
I told him, "You won't find anyone who needs it the way I do."
He then smiled a beautiful smile and said, "I've got a better place. Let's go there and do it again."
He led me off to a place even more secluded but in the open air. By now, the sun had set and it was getting dark. I could disrobe without fear of others seeing me, so I did. He looked ecstatic to see me naked.
He said to me, "Lie on top of me. I want to feel you on me." I did so for some time. He couldn't get enough of me. I was hard as a rock throughout. I couldn't calm down. It wasn't long before I shot again. He begged me to stop, but I told him I couldn't. He said, "That's all right, I enjoyed it very much. But I don't want to waste any more!" At this point, we switched places so that I was lying on the sandy ground and he was going down on me with passion. I think I shot my load at least three more times, but each time he took it gladly and kept going for more.
After I had gotten off the fifth time in an hour, I told him that I thought I should go home, that people were waiting for me. He asked me to meet him there a week later, that he wanted to meet me again. I said I would. I then went home -- and had sex again before going to sleep. In those days, I never knew the experience of sexual exhaustion. Come to think of it, I haven't known it since, either!
What became of him is a mystery to me. When I returned a week later, he was not there. Someone else was -- and this man not only wanted to service me orally, he also wanted me to show him who was boss by dominating him completely. From that moment on, I was a total Top, addicted to dominating men. As I get older, it doesn't change; I'm even more a DOM now than I was then. No, I did not "become gay." I still get turned on to women, but no woman treats me the way that a gay man does, and that's why I prefer them now.
It wasn't until I returned to the US that I learned, much to my total surprise, that most gay men are bottoms. It hasn't helped me a lot, though, and if anything, it makes me realize just how lonely I really am.
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