Where it happened: California
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
I’d been experiencing a degree of sexual confusion since my early teens as to my sexual orientation. One day somebody approached me online and propositioned me anonymously. (I still don’t know how he even got my screen name.) We talked more than a few times, and even spoke on the phone once or twice. I knew that I was putting myself in an incredibly stupid situation, but I did stupid things all the time when I was that age.
His name was John. We arranged to have him pick me up at work, the first job I’d ever had. It was about noon. I saw him walking up towards the store front and bolted, not wanting him to come into the store and cause an embarassing situation with my coworker, who I’d told I was getting picked up “by my uncle”. He looked pretty much like you’d expect someone who has sex with underage teenage boys to look, as much as he protested online that he didn’t normally do “this sort of thing” and asked me on the phone, a number of times, if I was a cop.
He took me to the movies, and I can still remember which one – The Talented Mister Ripley. (This proved to be pretty ironic, as that movie had a whole host of homoerotic undertones.) I still can’t see that film or even think about it without getting sick to my stomach. We actually left about halfway through the film because I just wanted to get things over with.
He took me back to his house and we started to kiss. He was terrible. The rest of the encounter was a typical series of maneuvers made by men in the bedroom, except that there was ineptness all around. This is forgiveable in my case – I was fifteen, insecure, frightful about my emerging sexuality, and entirely uneperienced. It was not forgiveable in his case. After about a half an hour trying to get things together, I decided to lie down and take a breather. Neither one of us came, and nobody was penetrated. He asked if I wanted to watch pornography. I said no. I decided to take a shower. He asked if I wanted company. I said no.
I had him drop me at a park by my house because I didn’t want him to know where I lived. He was trying to arrange a second “date”. I told him I’d get back to him. I went home and my entire extended family was over for some reason. I told them I had a headache and needed to go to sleep. I went to my bed, lay down, and started shaking uncontrollably. Later on in life, I would come to doubt the consensuality of the encounter, although I didn’t at the time. I realized I had allowed something to happen that was incredibly shady, unsafe, and horrible, and something that this guy shouldn’t have let happen. (He was twenty-nine at the time.) I occasionally still spot the guy online, and I’m always tempted to call him out on it, but I never do.
It was five years before I had any sort of sexual encounter again – including kissing. It was three years after that before I had sex that meant anything, or was beautiful in any way.
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