First Time and favorite Places for Boy Sex

[nickbrady]

The most fun I had was when I was a kid in school, discovering sex with my buddies for the first time. I think my very first time was when I was 13 in the upstairs TV room of my mother's house with literally the boy from next door. We were lying on the floor watching TV and started to wrestle around. When I was on top of him face to face, I got hard, and so did he. We humped away at each other under the pretense of wrestling until we were about to bust. This led to feeling of each other's cocks through our jeans, then the classic I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours thing. We sat on the floor and jerked each other off. It was my first revelation that another boy's hand on my cock felt better then my own. I was cut, he was uncut and I was fascinated by the sight of his foreskin sliding up and down over the head of his dick. He cummed in my hand, then I cummed in his. I think it was his first time to play like this as well. We wiped ourselves off with toilet paper and went back to watching TV.

This was the first time, but certainly not the last. Later we dispensed with the wrestling and jerked off together many times. We eventually sucked each other and did what we thought was fucking - slicking ourselves up with Wesson oil and sliding it against our butt cracks, and between our legs. I think that's really called intercural sex, but it felt great. Lots of toilet paper was used to hide the evidence. We played like this until we were out of high school. We never kissed or "cornholed" each other but we eventually learned to like the taste of cum. We graduated to a nearby park, a shed behind my house, and later, my Mom's Chevrolet.

Of course once I discovered how much fun this was, I found other guys to play with. Some of my other favorite places (besides the TV room) were a swimming beach on a nearby lake, a dark area behind a pump house in a small park, the deserted men's room at the football stadium, a storage room above a small furniture store, and in one of the school buses parked behind the high school. Basically anyplace where we could mess around without being disturbed. Doing sex in semi-public places was made even more exciting by the prospect of being discovered.

Where and when was your very first time to have sex with another boy? How old were you and how old was he? What were your favorite place for such activity? Come on now, share your stories and be specific. Graphic detail is encouraged. Let's have fun with this.

 

[mikeyank]

I actually have ridiculously young memories of playing around with a friend of mine from elementary school in my bed one day when my parents weren't home, taking our pants down and rubbing against each other, but around the age of puberty, things really started getting interesting. lol

I had a boyhood friend named Charles who is now long married with a bunch of kids and I assume now grand kids, so for him it was just a phase, not so for me. I recall using a room in the basement of his parents house. I believe it was a wine cellar where we could close the door from the inside. Basement rooms were a good place to play as I also recall using the front boiler room in my parent's basement where the door could also be closed. I used to play a capture game with Charles, where we would simulate tying each other up and I think his fantasy was that we were captured by some girls and they "tortured" us by playing with our cocks. We were too young to cum, so it was just boners and rubbing.

Later after puberty, my friend David became my main source of sexual discovery. (He is gay and is currently still in a 35 year relationship still going today with his partner Billy). David and I did it everywhere, in our bedrooms, in the back of my father's car, in the country when I stayed with his family during the summer at their bungalow colony in The Catskills, out in the woods, by the lake.

Later as an adult one of my favorite times was picking up a guy in Fort Lauderdale at The Copa, and we drove to the airport where I sucked him off near Fort Lauderdale Airport. And I met a guy years later from a phone sex line and sucked him off in my car in the back of a gas station that was closed in the wee hours of the morning. Those are a few quick memories of non-traditional places I've fooled around.

 

[johnny]

A little off topic..Just good seeing you posting mikeyank. Maybe the Forum can or will be fun again? xo Baby steps...

 

[mikeyank]

A little off topic..Just good seeing you posting mikeyank. Maybe the Forum can or will be fun again? xo Baby steps...

Thanks Johnny. Let's see what the future brings. I'm willing to try to have some fun here again!

 

[CRandallB]

we were both 12 and I was a big fat ugly kid--strong as an ox and already in the Honor's Program. this was on Long Island. he was a beautiful puerto rican with those amazing green/gold eyes. he had matured early and had a mustache and real pecs and basically the body of an 18 year old. he was shy and reserved, quite a bit smaller than me. we walked the same direction home from school and his house, with parents not home yet, came up first, so we would always stop there. backyard baseball, TV, bike riding, whatever. seems to be the norm we also wrestled around and I ended up tying him up once in a while. one time, we were wrestling around and I grabbed and squeezed one of those great pecs, and we both sort of froze--he put his hand over mine and squeezed again and we kissed. we were in his folks' basement and soon the clothes were coming off and we made out, rubbing each others dicks. nothing really came of it, if u'll pardon the pun. that started it. sometimes I'd tie him up and play with everything, make him suck my dick, I sucked his. Then came the time, he was tied up and I was slobbering all over his junk and my finger slid over his asshole and he jerked and moaned, so I kept playing with his hole and he was squirming and literally begged me to do something, anything. I didn't know from nothing, so I tried to push my dry finger inside him, he jumped and howled so I stopped but he kept asking me to do SOMETHING cuz it felt good. I tried spit--no go. hurt. so, I ran up to the kitchen and only found some mayo--couldn't find any oil or anything. so I scooped up a few fingers of mayo, went back down stairs and finger banged him and he came like a cannon. The mayo stung a bit, he said. so next time we used cooking oil--it was his kitchen, so he knew where it was. I didn't actually fuck him til we were 13. back then, in the suburbs, there was NO information, so we didn't have the slightest idea butt fucking was even an option--that's why it took about a year for us to figure it out. we were together for two more years--got into a routine of stopping at his house after school and by the time I got the front door shut, he was in his bedroom, stripped with his ass in the air and a coil of rope thrown across his body. so, bondage became just a normal part of sex for me--tying up muscleboy bottoms and driving them out of their minds, watching their muscles strain against the rope while they moaned and writhed around. the bondage fell by the wayside as I gained more experience with other guys, but it was always part of sex with Pete til my family moved away. we kept in touch, one day hoping to be together again--b4 my family moved away, we had planned to move into the city together--and then his mother called me and told me he was in trouble and wanted me to fly up there and get him--I was living in KS and had graduated a year early from H.S., was working, had a good job, apt., car, all in preperation for when he graduated and would come join me, NYC just being too expensive to live compared with where I was living. I had a decent job, but couldn't afford that. I offered to buy a plane ticket to fly him to me tho. He had been recruited by the Moonies!! So, I made my offer and his mother said she would get him to talk to me. We talked a few times, and he was cold and distant. About the third phone call, he told me I was a child molester (we were both the same age) and had raped him trying to force him to be a homosexual. Last time I ever spoke to him. His mother never called me back. Broke my heart, made my soul just shrivel. I had one affair, about a year long, with another guy, 2 years older than me, but he was military and got a transfer to a great career-move job overseas. So, ripe for the pickin', I met and married a woman, so I could have a "normal" life and be the son my parents wanted and the world wanted and yada yada yada. Ended in complete disaster 7 years and one child later, of course. I think back sometimes about what would have been if Pete had just gotten on that plane to come to me.

 

[tampa24]

Wow!

What a story CRandal. Thank you for sharing it with us.

 

[Repareur]

I have most of you beat. I joined the mile high club the first time I had sex with a boy. I had been wrestling around with my best friend and getting hard through our clothes but nothing else until we were on a 747 crossing the Atlantic on our way to London. We were 13 years old. His mom and Aunt were visiting long lost relatives and my friend Chris did not want to go alone with the two ladies and my parents paid my way to go with them. I'm pretty sure he stared it in the nearly empty rear section of the plane while we were watching the movie in the dark and covered up with blankets. We unzipped each other's pants and jacked each other for a while before locking our selves in one of the rear bathrooms to finish up with blow jobs and attempted ass fucking. The rest of the trip we used one twin bed for our suit cases and the other one to fuck around. We fell asleep spooning every night. My friend is now married and probably with grand kids. But the last time I saw him he still wanted to suck dick while his infant child was in the room. That was on a trip home from college but our whole family moved away pretty soon after that. We have never seen each other again.

 

[johnny]

I have most of you beat. I joined the mile high club the first time I had sex with a boy. I had been wrestling around with my best friend and getting hard through our clothes but nothing else until we were on a 747 crossing the Atlantic on our way to London. We were 13 years old. His mom and Aunt were visiting long lost relatives and my friend Chris did not want to go alone with the two ladies and my parents paid my way to go with them. I'm pretty sure he stared it in the nearly empty rear section of the plane while we were watching the movie in the dark and covered up with blankets. We unzipped each other's pants and jacked each other for a while before locking our selves in one of the rear bathrooms to finish up with blow jobs and attempted ass fucking. The rest of the trip we used one twin bed for our suit cases and the other one to fuck around. We fell asleep spooning every night. My friend is now married and probably with grand kids. But the last time I saw him he still wanted to suck dick while his infant child was in the room. That was on a trip home from college but our whole family moved away pretty soon after that. We have never seen each other again.

Love that You were Spooning..Fun Post...

 

[CRandallB]

I was never much of a player. I loved Pete and when we separated we were both 15. we planned to go thru high school together and I wanted to work at the NBC building in the city--the high school we were to go to was huge, the largest high school campus in the country at the time, and it offered all sorts of training programs, including prep for obtaining an FCC license and I was determined to get into TV production since I had gone on a school field trip to the NBC building. I didn't care whatr I had to do to start there--page, janitor, whatever. Pete's older brother already lived in the city, so we figured we could stay with him til we got situated--Pete didn't really know what he wanted to do yet, but figured his brother could get him a job on the docks where he worked. We had it all worked out--then my parents decided to return to their roots in Arkansas! I almost ran away. Pete's mother knew all about us, tho never spoke about it of course. I was big and strong and strong-willed and Pete's father was a wreck--metal plate in his head--so she liked the idea that Pete would have someone with him, had someone with him, that obviously cared about him. When she found out my family was leaving, she came to our house to talk to my mother about letting me stay with them to finish high school. Her english was not great and she didn't want to talk about what she knew about us, so the discussion didn't go well. My mother, of course, didn't know why this woman she didn't know was almost begging her to let me stay with them to finish high school. My foster mother talked me out of disappearing into the city, saying it would cause her no end of grief as my parents would presume she knew where I was and yada yada yada and she was planning on leaving her husband and moving back to Kansas herself, so I would be on my own on the streets. I had become an on and off again private party hustler in the Village--NYC is great for kids--don't need a car and the city was a short train ride away from the suburbs on Long Island--for older men by the time I was 13, but 15 was pushing the limits of the age range of the clients of the drag queen who ran the parties, so that was about to end too. So, I went with my parents. Culture shock to say the least--the only good part was I was in the Honors program in NY, so I had only like 4 credits needed to graduate HS in AR--it was like stepping back 100 yrs going from NY to AR. I graduated a year early and fled to my grandmother's in KS and Pete and I had kept in touch and the plan was since I graduated a year before he would, I'd get a job, an apt., get things ready for him to come to KS when he graduated. But, his mother had been right--without me, Pete was so shy and not confident (never understand why beautiful men aren't confident!) and that was the era of the Moonies and Pete got recruited. He was stealing and selling everything he could get his hands on from his folks, from anyone, cuz that's what the Moonies did. That's when she called me to come get him. To get him away from them. Of course, they taught Pete all about the "sin" of homosexuality and they were the ones that convinced him that loving me, having sex with me, was all wrong and it was all my fault, that I was one of those horrendous queers that molest kids to turn them. Of course, that we were the same age was not a consideration. When he called me a child molester, my whole world just crashed. I was just 17, almost 18 and he was going to graduate HS in about a month. So, three years of planning and long distance loving--just GONE. Then when Terry who I met a few months later and who worked really hard to get me to feel again also left after less than a year--the first girl that came along that showed an interest in me, I went for it. I didn't love her. Liked her a bit, I guess--she was funny and smart and built like a linebacker--big girl--so I made the decision to leave guys behind. Things were so different back then. I LOVE seeing young men today knowing they can be anyone, be with anyone, let their parents know who they are. We've come such a long way. Just wish society had been where it is now back then. oh well, first loves hardly ever work out anyway, right?

 

[Beth]

I was never much of a player. I loved Pete and when we separated we were both 15. we planned to go thru high school together and I wanted to work at the NBC building in the city--the high school we were to go to was huge, the largest high school campus in the country at the time, and it offered all sorts of training programs, including prep for obtaining an FCC license and I was determined to get into TV production since I had gone on a school field trip to the NBC building. I didn't care whatr I had to do to start there--page, janitor, whatever. Pete's older brother already lived in the city, so we figured we could stay with him til we got situated--Pete didn't really know what he wanted to do yet, but figured his brother could get him a job on the docks where he worked. We had it all worked out--then my parents decided to return to their roots in Arkansas! I almost ran away. Pete's mother knew all about us, tho never spoke about it of course. I was big and strong and strong-willed and Pete's father was a wreck--metal plate in his head--so she liked the idea that Pete would have someone with him, had someone with him, that obviously cared about him. When she found out my family was leaving, she came to our house to talk to my mother about letting me stay with them to finish high school. Her english was not great and she didn't want to talk about what she knew about us, so the discussion didn't go well. My mother, of course, didn't know why this woman she didn't know was almost begging her to let me stay with them to finish high school. My foster mother talked me out of disappearing into the city, saying it would cause her no end of grief as my parents would presume she knew where I was and yada yada yada and she was planning on leaving her husband and moving back to Kansas herself, so I would be on my own on the streets. I had become an on and off again private party hustler in the Village--NYC is great for kids--don't need a car and the city was a short train ride away from the suburbs on Long Island--for older men by the time I was 13, but 15 was pushing the limits of the age range of the clients of the drag queen who ran the parties, so that was about to end too. So, I went with my parents. Culture shock to say the least--the only good part was I was in the Honors program in NY, so I had only like 4 credits needed to graduate HS in AR--it was like stepping back 100 yrs going from NY to AR. I graduated a year early and fled to my grandmother's in KS and Pete and I had kept in touch and the plan was since I graduated a year before he would, I'd get a job, an apt., get things ready for him to come to KS when he graduated. But, his mother had been right--without me, Pete was so shy and not confident (never understand why beautiful men aren't confident!) and that was the era of the Moonies and Pete got recruited. He was stealing and selling everything he could get his hands on from his folks, from anyone, cuz that's what the Moonies did. That's when she called me to come get him. To get him away from them. Of course, they taught Pete all about the "sin" of homosexuality and they were the ones that convinced him that loving me, having sex with me, was all wrong and it was all my fault, that I was one of those horrendous queers that molest kids to turn them. Of course, that we were the same age was not a consideration. When he called me a child molester, my whole world just crashed. I was just 17, almost 18 and he was going to graduate HS in about a month. So, three years of planning and long distance loving--just GONE. Then when Terry who I met a few months later and who worked really hard to get me to feel again also left after less than a year--the first girl that came along that showed an interest in me, I went for it. I didn't love her. Liked her a bit, I guess--she was funny and smart and built like a linebacker--big girl--so I made the decision to leave guys behind. Things were so different back then. I LOVE seeing young men today knowing they can be anyone, be with anyone, let their parents know who they are. We've come such a long way. Just wish society had been where it is now back then. oh well, first loves hardly ever work out anyway, right?

Thank you for sharing that very interesting story. I do think you are right, first loves are tough.

I'm going to "stretch the boundaries" of this thread...my first sex was with a girl, Karen. We were both 12/13 and inseparable for two solid years. I learned to kiss, touch and have fun with that girl! We started off kissing..."let's use plastic wrap so our tongues don't really touch;" that lasted about a day. After that, we were all over one another. My family was shit and everyone knew it so, I was over at her house 24/7. We were in the same class and lived bout 6 houses apart. She was beautiful: C-cup, long black hair with a "wild" stripe of blonde in the front. I was a bit chubby with equally big boobs; the guys used to flirt with us constantly...little did they know. After two years, he father, a K-Mart manager was moved; we were so sad. I have never seen her since.

 

[CRandallB]

did u and he figure out the ass fucking in the hotel room? who fucked who first? I look back and it took Pete and I so long to move from me finger fucking him to actually sticking my cock in his ass and am kind of amazed at how long it took to figure that out, that I am curious about u and ur friend figuring it out so quickly. First time I fucked Pete, when I got the head of my dick into him, we were just kind of overwhelmed by the whole process. I think I came after about three good strokes and his cock was so hard he was actually hurting from his cock more than his ass. He said his ass never hurt at all, but his cock hurt like hell it was so hard. We got better at it of course especially after I figured out what licking his asshole did for him. he'd lose his freaking mind. also found out I hayed, and stll do, the taste of cum, cuz after I came, I sucked his dick for about three seconds it seemed like and he shot down my throat before either one of us could really react. even tho we'd sucked each other before, he'd never cum in my mouth before, tho I had cum in his mouth a few times. He said he liked it, but for some reason I'd never let him cum in my mouth before, always fascinated by jacking him off.

 

[johnny]

I was never much of a player. I loved Pete and when we separated we were both 15. we planned to go thru high school together and I wanted to work at the NBC building in the city--the high school we were to go to was huge, the largest high school campus in the country at the time, and it offered all sorts of training programs, including prep for obtaining an FCC license and I was determined to get into TV production since I had gone on a school field trip to the NBC building. I didn't care whatr I had to do to start there--page, janitor, whatever. Pete's older brother already lived in the city, so we figured we could stay with him til we got situated--Pete didn't really know what he wanted to do yet, but figured his brother could get him a job on the docks where he worked. We had it all worked out--then my parents decided to return to their roots in Arkansas! I almost ran away. Pete's mother knew all about us, tho never spoke about it of course. I was big and strong and strong-willed and Pete's father was a wreck--metal plate in his head--so she liked the idea that Pete would have someone with him, had someone with him, that obviously cared about him. When she found out my family was leaving, she came to our house to talk to my mother about letting me stay with them to finish high school. Her english was not great and she didn't want to talk about what she knew about us, so the discussion didn't go well. My mother, of course, didn't know why this woman she didn't know was almost begging her to let me stay with them to finish high school. My foster mother talked me out of disappearing into the city, saying it would cause her no end of grief as my parents would presume she knew where I was and yada yada yada and she was planning on leaving her husband and moving back to Kansas herself, so I would be on my own on the streets. I had become an on and off again private party hustler in the Village--NYC is great for kids--don't need a car and the city was a short train ride away from the suburbs on Long Island--for older men by the time I was 13, but 15 was pushing the limits of the age range of the clients of the drag queen who ran the parties, so that was about to end too. So, I went with my parents. Culture shock to say the least--the only good part was I was in the Honors program in NY, so I had only like 4 credits needed to graduate HS in AR--it was like stepping back 100 yrs going from NY to AR. I graduated a year early and fled to my grandmother's in KS and Pete and I had kept in touch and the plan was since I graduated a year before he would, I'd get a job, an apt., get things ready for him to come to KS when he graduated. But, his mother had been right--without me, Pete was so shy and not confident (never understand why beautiful men aren't confident!) and that was the era of the Moonies and Pete got recruited. He was stealing and selling everything he could get his hands on from his folks, from anyone, cuz that's what the Moonies did. That's when she called me to come get him. To get him away from them. Of course, they taught Pete all about the "sin" of homosexuality and they were the ones that convinced him that loving me, having sex with me, was all wrong and it was all my fault, that I was one of those horrendous queers that molest kids to turn them. Of course, that we were the same age was not a consideration. When he called me a child molester, my whole world just crashed. I was just 17, almost 18 and he was going to graduate HS in about a month. So, three years of planning and long distance loving--just GONE. Then when Terry who I met a few months later and who worked really hard to get me to feel again also left after less than a year--the first girl that came along that showed an interest in me, I went for it. I didn't love her. Liked her a bit, I guess--she was funny and smart and built like a linebacker--big girl--so I made the decision to leave guys behind. Things were so different back then. I LOVE seeing young men today knowing they can be anyone, be with anyone, let their parents know who they are. We've come such a long way. Just wish society had been where it is now back then. oh well, first loves hardly ever work out anyway, right?

Great Post CRandallB..
I think hundreds of men later. Remember I was born and raised in a Big City. A Big Gay City .No barns here.I still think of that first Real Love.
Three long term relationships later and two many shorter ones to count. Or remember.I still think of that first Love.He has been gone thirty years already.
Seems like yesterday. If I wasn't such a young selfish slut. What If ??? What if all it took was Love to keep You together?
I always wanted more than I had. Didn't see how good I had it till later..
What if when we were young we thought with our head instead of our Dicks? What if there was that one person? To share all your
ups and downs with?
Guess I will never know. But I will always remember that first Love. I Hope? And I guess always think. What if? Silly Post. But that's just me...

 

[CRandallB]

i think it's a great place to share ur first time story. so it's two girls instead of two boys? same problems, same consequences. Also nice to hear from someone else whose "parenting" left a lot to be desired. I used to think about suing mine for all the money I saved them supporting myself for 7 years while a minor. Then again, I guess that's not as bad as the times I stood over them with a knife while they were sleeping, figuring I'd just go to juvey, turn 18, have my record closed and go on with my life. But then I figured my sister would get all the life insurance and sale of the house money and why should she get the pay-off if I did the wet work? Difference was everyone knew ur folks were POS. Mine were upstanding suburbanites who had smart great kids and plenty of money. Just none for me. Ever hear the term "whipping boy syndrome"? it's been PC'd and nowadays they call it "Golden Child syndrome"--taking the attention off the victim. It's when a family chooses one child to vent everything on, to abuse. The other sibling(s) go along with it for fear of becoming a victim too. So, no one knew besides my foster-mother. She was the life-long friend of my mother's and when she figured out what was happening, she would come and get me to stay with her til things "cooled down" or as she would tell my mother, to take me off her hands for a while. She feared if she fought my parents, they would cut her off and she wouldn't be able to help. so she played up to my mother that yes, I was the devil child incarnate so she would take me off her hands for a while. but the dynamics of whipping boy syndrome are such the other family members cannot function without the presence of the whipping boy, so these people that hated me so much would never let me go. oh well, talk about TMI. It's just nice to know another survivor--and we did, didn't we? blessed be kiddo.

 

[CRandallB]

I think it's harder on the guys who fell in love so young--not just horsing around and getting off while that young. There's always that first time tho, for everyone, when the horsing around goes from poking fun to poking serious. But the first love, I think, is always doomed. when ur young, u have a lot of changing to go thru and those changes for each person involved are so different--different timing, different nascent desires that can only surface thru experience, in and out of the bedroom--that the first love cannot survive. wait--I think the love survives--to this day, 45 years later, I still love Pete, or the memory of Pete/us. But, I have learned, and PAY ATTENTION any younger guys out there reading this: LOVE is NEVER enough. PERIOD. a couple needs stability, the dishes getting done, the trash going out on time, the rent paid, being able to make decisions together, etc., honest expectations for/from each other and being able to be taken for granted! Yep. Your partner MUST be able to take u for granted, to simply assume u will have his back, to simply assume u will take care of those things you both know ur the best at. And u MUST be able to feel exactly the same way about him.
Anyway, I digress. so, not a silly post at all. this thread was about first times, and I think I kind of derailed it as my first time of fucking around with a boy just happened to be my first love story as well. we were physically together 3 years and long-distance emotionally together for about another three. Not exactly the romping around story that belonged here. sorry guys. but the memories brought back to life from telling my first time story are amazing. His touch, his kiss. aaaaaahhhh....

 

[nickbrady]

I think it's harder on the guys who fell in love so young--not just horsing around and getting off while that young. There's always that first time tho, for everyone, when the horsing around goes from poking fun to poking serious. But the first love, I think, is always doomed. when ur young, u have a lot of changing to go thru and those changes for each person involved are so different--different timing, different nascent desires that can only surface thru experience, in and out of the bedroom--that the first love cannot survive. wait--I think the love survives--to this day, 45 years later, I still love Pete, or the memory of Pete/us. But, I have learned, and PAY ATTENTION any younger guys out there reading this: LOVE is NEVER enough. PERIOD. a couple needs stability, the dishes getting done, the trash going out on time, the rent paid, being able to make decisions together, etc., honest expectations for/from each other and being able to be taken for granted! Yep. Your partner MUST be able to take u for granted, to simply assume u will have his back, to simply assume u will take care of those things you both know ur the best at. And u MUST be able to feel exactly the same way about him.
Anyway, I digress. so, not a silly post at all. this thread was about first times, and I think I kind of derailed it as my first time of fucking around with a boy just happened to be my first love story as well. we were physically together 3 years and long-distance emotionally together for about another three. Not exactly the romping around story that belonged here. sorry guys. but the memories brought back to life from telling my first time story are amazing. His touch, his kiss. aaaaaahhhh....

Not a silly post at all. The first sexual experience, the first love especially if very young, is a magic experience. No matter what happens, it lives on in your memory and helps to shape you into what you become. Sweet memories are to be treasured. Thanks for sharing this CrandalB.