Home > Life or something like it > Firsts… In Love and Lust… (Part I)

Firsts… In Love and Lust… (Part I)

    My first….  Carrie Fisher once wrote in the book Surrender the Pink that sometimes if you don’t lose your virginity right the first time, try again until it’s been done right.  After all, there’s no rule that says if it’s lost the first time — that it can’t be lost again.  Particularly if it wasn’t done right in your own head.  Of course, with the character in that book — she had done it about four times before it had been taken correctly.  With me though, it only took twice. 

    I’ll admit right out — Eric was not a good man to be with — regardless of the fact that he was my first and he had been there sometimes when I needed him most.  However, with me not having any self-esteem at the time, coupled with Eric using me for his needs be it sexually, or emotionally and sometimes mentally (he never did well in high school).  While he had taught me how to properly kiss, and a couple of things about sex with men — on the whole though the man was a toxin to me that had almost destroyed me in the process.
    The man that had in fact been my first when it comes to love and lust, and infatuation being reciprocated to me was a man that I had met in AIT at Fort Benjamin Harrison in Indiana.  Like many things in my life — it had snuck up on me and then smacked me right between the eyes before I knew what the hell happened.  And this is how it started…

    I completed Basic Training in El Paso, TX in the middle of Spring just when the temperatures were going from 30’s in the morning to mid-90’s in the afternoon, landing in Indianapolis, IN where the temperatures were mild 60’s.  However, it quite the shock for this New Englander that had spent eight weeks in the arid desert weather of El Paso and landing in the humid mid-west…  Like any military move which is within the same country — a deployment/move starts at like 5 in the morning at the departing post, and ends at the arrival post someplace near 11:30 – midnight at the arrival post, where you’re so exhausted from the amount of standing and waiting you go through that once you’ve arrived, the only thing you can do is fall into a bunk unconscious.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t fall unconscious fast enough, as I was still a bit wired from the flight from Houston to Indianapolis because it had hit one too many air pockets and I thought on the last one was going to be the one where I would be hunched over in my seat kissing my ass good-bye. 
    The first thing that I encountered upon landing at the Billet for Bravo Company was a man, clearly 6’5", 230 pounds, and wouldn’t want to meet up in a dark alley.  The second was being put into a room with a man that was snoring, and when the light was shined on him, saw that he’s one of those weird types that sleep with their eyes wide open, and rolling all over the place.  Creepiest thing I had seen in my life.  Just before I had fallen asleep, I had begun thinking about how to get out of the room the first thing I could.  Didn’t help the next morning that the man was trying to be friends with me prior to breakfast and tea (I used to be a tea drinker at the time), and getting up in my face was not the thing to do when I was decaffeinated.  It took me about a week to get moved from that room to another, but I got it done. 
    What a motley trio we were.  You know what I look like, which is about the same as I did twenty years ago, but a little bit less weight, less grey (although I admit that I had grey as they started popping in when I was 19), and had and less hair on my chest.  Glenn was 6’1", a combination of lanky while at the same time having a little paunch.  Strawberry-Blond hair, Blue-Grey eyes, Light complexion.  He had a pair of GI prescription glasses which were clearly only a couple of steps away from him being legally blind.  And Tommy… Tommy, I had the clear lust for from the word, "Hi".  5’7", about 165 – 170.  Black hair, black eyes.  Built like a brick shithouse.  Where Glenn and I were clearly talkative and geeks about it, Tommy was as silent as a cemetery.  Usually the best we could get out of Tommy at any time was one or two words.  Sometimes a sentence.  That was about it…  But Tommy would stick about with Glenn and I whenever the three of us were off-duty. 
    Now Glenn and I were gifted for the gab, and once Glenn realized that I had studied metaphysics, philosophy and Ayn Rand’s Objectivism it was a non-stop debate on the rights and the wrongs of life, the universe and everything.  There was nothing sacred in our debates.  Politics, Family, Religion, it was all covered.  It was also covered at some detail when I had come out to Glenn and Tommy that I was homosexual.  He didn’t approve, and he went on to try to prove that Objectivism was also against homosexuality.  I eventually won that argument because Glenn had taken the politically correct approach that love is between two people and not a man and a woman; and when it was pointed out to him he realized that Objectivism wasn’t heterosexist he totally accepted me.  Which launched us on the next debate…  Getting Tommy to come out of his shell. 
    What a project that was!  No matter how Glenn or I tried to engage Tommy into talking about himself, or something that he was thinking, he would clam up.  Either that or he’d tell us to shut up and walk out for a period of time before coming back to see if it’s safe to be the stone wall that he was.  We tried politics..  We tried Family…  We tried getting him to tell us what he had received in letter from home…  We tried to get into a verbal fight with him…  Nothing.  Absolutely nothing. One day I had clearly hit a nerve when I asked him, "Tom, is there anyone in the world you love, lust, or are attracted to that you would trust enough to open up to?  Anyone?"  His neck went red, then his face, then he simply left the room without saying a word.  Hell, Glenn commented that he had never heard Tommy quite so silent before.  Said that he didn’t even hear Tommy breathing.  He didn’t get back to the room until curfew (22:00 hours). 
    The weeks continued by, and my birthday was coming up.  Tommy had hurt himself during KIP that he had gotten assigned to in the middle of the week and did something to his back.  So he was on some light painkiller that hit him hard.  Thanks to the painkillers he was on, he had loosened up just a little bit.  While he didn’t talk all that much still, we did get him smiling just a little bit more than normal — particularly when Glenn or I were joking about something.  The three of us scored Weekend Passes on the same weekend and Glenn had invited the three of us to Chicago and stay at his mother’s apartment there (because mom was away on vacation) for my birthday. 
    I thought it a touching present, and the three of us packed into Glenn’s Honda Civic, and drove eight hours west to Chicago from Indianapolis.  Glenn and I debated the entire trip.  Tommy was quiet in the back seat, and smiling now and again.  When we had gotten into downtown Chicago, I quickly saw all the earmarks that Chicago was celebrating Gay Pride.  Glenn was curious.  Tommy was deathly quiet.  We got over to Glenn’s mother’s apartment, got our stuff into the house, and decided on getting out for pizza before heading out about town to see what kind of life there was.  Don’t remember much about supper, other than the fact that Tommy remained quiet, and Glenn and I decided on leaving him alone because it was that eerie sort of quiet Tommy usually had when he wanted to be left pretty much alone.
    After supper, we had wandered around town a bit but couldn’t find anyplace worth going into or checking out…  We had been pulled over as the sun went down because Glenn had been driving with just his parking lights on around sundown, and was told that the city ordinance is to drive with the lights on, or off, but never drive with the parking lights.  Glenn had gotten off with a warning because we had shown the police officer we were military on Pass and didn’t know any better about the local laws, as Glenn was from Seattle, Tommy was from Western Mass, and I was from Rhode Island.  We had decided that instead of finding out the hard way we were breaking more laws, we would head back to the theater district and watch a movie or two before calling it a night. 
    I remember we had found the theater pretty easily.  I remember that we had paid something like $6.00 each and that we could sit there watching movies for as long as we liked as they would be showing them through to 3 AM.  I remember sitting through the first movie which was Dutch and made positively no sense given that we had come into it about 3/4 of the way through.  The second movie was in German, and I wasn’t tracking it properly, as Glenn was asking me entirely too many questions about the last film, and was trying to figure out what I had seen in it.  Tommy ignored the two of is and seemed transfixed as to what he was seeing on the big screen.  We got home someplace in the middle of the second film because Tommy said something about being sick or sickened and wanted out.  He did look sick, and I wasn’t sure whether it was the movie content, or whether it was from the pizza and beer we had at the pizzeria – so Glenn and I took Tommy back, while discussing what we had seen of the two movies we had seen. 
    Got back to Glenn’s mother’s place, Glenn pulled out the whiskey and wanted to do whiskey shots with the two of us.  Knocked back about four of them and Glenn called it a night.  Tommy had three more, and did the same.  I had only nursed two shots, and stopped before the third, because I had been feeling no pain, and I didn’t like getting shit-faced drunk.  The sleeping arrangements were, Glenn took his mother’s room, Tommy took his room, and I took the couch (because I boasted being able to sleep anywhere (and still can, even on a concrete floor without issue).

    Sometime into the night, I had been awoken by a presence on the end of the couch.  I had opened my eyes and sat up with a start to see that it was Tommy sitting there.  With the lights from outside, and the nightlight in the hallway, I could see he was sitting there in his skivvies, and sort of hunched forward.  I thought that he had been looking at me, but the way that he was forward, either I startled him, or he was getting ready to get up anyway.
    "Tommy, what’s wrong?"  I whispered.  I admit that I wasn’t into the Military Zealousness of calling people by last name when they were of equal rank.  I had always broken regs on it because I simply didn’t believe in it. 
    He said nothing for a moment, at me the next, then looked away.  "Nothing," he said and begun to get up.
    "There has to be something, you wouldn’t have woke me up in the middle of the night by sitting there at the end of the couch while I was sleeping."
    He got up and began to move quietly back to his bedroom.
    ‘Tom, was it because of the movies we saw tonight?" I whispered a little louder so he could hear me.
    He stopped and I could see him stiffen up.  I knew I hit a nerve then when I had asked it, because he always froze and stiffened up if it seemed to bother him. 
    "I’ll listen," I got up and came up to where he was standing, put my hand on his shoulder and tried to nudge him back to the couch to get him to sit back down and maybe get him to talk about it.  He was like a stone statue; he simply didn’t move and didn’t take to my nudging him. 
    "Tommy, I won’t bite, and you need to talk about it.  It’s pretty apparent it’s bothering you a lot." 
    He whispered, "Shut up Michael, and kiss me." 
    "What?" I stuttered a moment. 
    He repeated it, same tone, same conviction, "Shut up Michael, and kiss me." 
    I froze and felt like a steel sheet had been pushed through my stomach.  I was floored, that much was obvious.  First by the fact that he had used my first name, which he had never done prior to this, and second because it was the last thing I thought I’d ever hear out of his mouth.  "I need to sit, and you need to talk to me about this."  I tried again by taking hold of his shoulder and nudging him back to the couch. 
    He still wouldn’t budge. 
    I took hold of his wrist, and he twisted out of it, but remained where he was standing.  He began walking back to his room and said simply, calmly, tonelessly, "Nevermind."
    I got in front of him.  He looked down away from me and I could sense just how nervous he was.  I could still smell the whiskey on him, although it wasn’t as strong as it was earlier in the evening.  I gently intertwined my hand into his.  It was sort of a fight of nerves as he had bunched up his hand into fists.  He stopped fighting me and accepted my hand into his. 
    Sweaty, clammy, but very warm. 
    He still wasn’t looking up at me, and I thought about saying something to him, but instead, I took my other hand and gently nudged him up from the chin to look at me.  He did, and for a long moment, he kept his eyes squeezed shut. 
    "Tommy, look at me please," I asked quietly.
    His eyes snapped opened and he was looking at me. 
    "Why now, Tommy?" 
    His breathing got louder.  Like he was struggling to say something, or not say something.  I couldn’t be sure which at that moment. 
    "Tommy," I begged, "answer me.  Please?" 
    He kissed me.  It was a light kiss on the lips.  I could taste the whiskey, and a little of him in it.  It was warm, soothing, and something romantic and well meant.  He backed up a moment, still holding my hand and said, "You said to Glenn that, ‘when you kiss a man it all sorts itself out.’" 
    I nodded.
    He kissed me lightly again, but being a little more insistent in it’s length. "It’s all sorted out." 
    He didn’t let go of my hand, but instead of fighting me against sitting on the couch, urged me to go with him towards the bedroom he was sleeping in. 
    I froze and said, "I don’t think that’s wise." 
    He whispered assertively, "I want you, Michael.  I don’t care if we just lay together in bed, I want you beside me.  I want to wake up with you beside me.  I want to kiss you when we wake up.  I want to kiss you when we go to sleep tomorrow night.  I don’t want to be alone anymore." 
    The shock on my face was obvious.  Tommy, who resorted to specific phrases like ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘shut up’, ‘leave me alone’, and once when Glenn pushed him, ‘fuck off’, had put together quite a few words and sentences to me about what he wanted. And what he wanted was me. 
    Tommy smiled.  Almost innocent and boyishly.  "I trust you, Michael.  You asked me once whether I trusted anyone," he paused, "I trust you.  Don’t you trust me?" 
    I stifled a smirk, and simply said, "I do.  You have never done me wrong." 
    He began pulling me towards the bedroom. 
    I allowed him to continue urging me towards the bedroom, but I didn’t put up quite the fight that I did earlier. 

    Tommy let go of my hand when we were in Glenn’s bedroom, and he shut the door quietly behind me.  I fought the desire to jump into bed and looked at him a moment as he started towards the bed. 
    He stopped, looked at me, and came up to where I was standing.  He kissed me again, not as lightly, longer and more probing.  I could smell more of him and less of the whiskey on his breath.  His hands started around my shoulders, down my arms, and around my waist, as he maintained his closeness to me. 
    I admit I didn’t fight it.  If anything I complied and reciprocated.  I started on his chest with the backs of my hands, to his waist, and slowly around.  It was the first sensitive spot I had found on him.  The area near his pelvis was sensitive to touch, and he got a brief case of goose bumps and a shiver out of it. 
    He snorted and backed up a moment to regain his composure.  He came close again, kissed me and tried to get me to follow him into bed. 
    He laid down first, I laid down beside him, the two of us facing each other.  I traced the outline of his eyebrows, his nose, the curve of his lips. 
    He kissed my fingertip as I did that and smiled again.
    He took my hand that I had been tracing his features with and kissed the inside of my palm. 
    He rolled over and turned the light on, on the bed stand. 
    At the time I didn’t have the self-esteem that I had now, and wanted to turn it off. 
    He shook his head no, and said quietly, "I want to see you.  I want to see us.  I want to see what we’re doing." 
    I was a stubborn bastard at the time and really wanted to shut the light off. 
    Tommy struggled with me a little, smiling.  He pinned me, with him on top of me, but not the kind of pin that was threatening, or what siblings do when fighting.  Tommy just sat on top, towards my abdomen, and said in that assertive tone, "Please.  I want to see you, because you are beautiful to me." 
    That stopped me in my tracks. 
    I must have had a shocked look on my face when he said that because he looked at me oddly for a moment and said, "no one’s ever told you that have they?"
    "My mother…  My relatives…" 
    "What about Eric?"  He asked because I had spoken about him to Glenn and Tommy when I had come out. 
    I shook my head no.  Eric never acknowledged whether I was handsome, or whether I was ugly.  He simply wanted sex from me, when he couldn’t get it anywhere else, and used me to get better grades because I was better at school than he was. 
    Tommy leaned over and kissed me and said close enough to me so that I could feel his breath, "You are Michael.  You are beautiful, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise." 
    I had kissed him strongly, and hugged him. 
    He sat back up on me, looking down at me, and tracing lines on my shoulders, my neck, my chest and my stomach.  He did it with his fingertips, and with the backs of his hands.
    "We need to get some sleep, Tommy.  We’re supposed to check out more of Chicago tomorrow with Glenn." 
    Tommy kissed me and nodded.  He got off my, and laid down next to me, looking at me, while I was looking up at the ceiling a moment. 
    I could feel his hand on my chest.  Warm.  Dry.  Secure. 
    He moved closer to drape his arm across my chest, and nuzzled into my neck, giving it a brief graze from his lips.  He fell asleep in less than a minute.  I could hear his breathing go deeper and more regular. 
    I lay there looking upward for another minute, feeling his body next to mine, and wondered why now? 
    I fell asleep shortly after that question.

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