As he prepped for bed Jamie was remembering the last year or so as he explored his sexuality. He had already been out, even when he was at home finishing high school.
Jamie was a twenty-one-year-old in 1978, the year of our story. The gay revolution was gathering steam. He was living in Washington, D.C., a regional center for the liberation movement.
Horny Baby Boomers were sending homosexual promiscuity skyrocketing. Some knew they were gay and refused to be held back by society's rules on sexuality. Others were curious. This was years before AIDS.
Jamie's recent sex play with black stud Robert made it clear to the boy he was especially attracted to black men. He'd had sex with brothers before but most were his age. He liked them, and he liked sucking and fucking with them. But they didn't give off commanding vibes like Robert.
Robert's dominance during sex had turned Jamie on like never before. He learned that he loved to be led, to obey his daddy, to follow orders. It got him hotter that Robert was a husky dark black man with muscles, a friendly smile and a deep sexy voice.
Jamie estimated Robert was 32; he was a man, a leader, a far cry from the black guys his age.
Jamie was a bit overwhelmed as he absorbed this new submissive aspect of his personality. Where is this taking me? he wondered. How would an objective observer view me? Rephrase that -- how would a gay observer view me?
That person would say that Jamie was a lucky young man. His folks were understanding about his homosexuality, though they made with the occasional stupid joke or insult about it.
Other relatives were a mixed bag, some not caring, others complete assholes. Jamie's goal was to get out of his small town and go to college.
The school was in a large urban area and counted about 10,000 students. It proved to be a godsend for Jamie. There still many assholes and remarks about being a homo. Yuck yuck. But it was a significant improvement over his suburban home.
Jamie went a little overboard with his loving, fooling around with guys in the gay student group, cruising the library, checking out the burgeoning gay part of town.
He'd made a pretty good exploration of his sexuality. He'd sucked and fucked, giving and receiving, rimmed and been rimmed, stalked glory holes and gave a few anonymous blowjobs. He'd done bisexual and gay three ways, and attended a couple orgies.
He lasted two years in college, picked up some credits but realized he just wasn't much of a student, at least at this point in his life. He learned that his sexuality was a top priority, and he did not want to be cooped up in classes and poring over books.
So, he left school and upped his hours as a clerk at a record store in an upscale part of town. It wasn't great but he learned how to use a cash register, interact with customers, and prove he was a trustworthy employee.
With a modest stipend from his folks, he was able to pay rent in a group home in a neighborhood convenient to buses and the under-construction Metro subway. The house was kind of a dump, but the best Jamie could afford.
That fall a new guy moved in. Phillip was a slim, pale white guy, about 20 or 21, five foot six inches tall, and in attractive shape. He was shy, a little strange, but whenever he saw Jamie he smiled and waved, though he didn't do much more than say hello.
It was clear why Phillip was attracted to Jamie. He was young and attractive white guy with feathered brown/blonde hair hanging over his blue eyes. His tight body had been shaped by several years of swimming in high school. He filled out his jeans with a rounded butt and a lump in his crotch.
Phillip and the owner of the house were raking leaves in the front yard. Jamie stopped to shoot the breeze and learned Phillip was paying his rent by doing odd jobs around the house.
The phone rang and the owner went to answer it.
"So, how are you liking the place?" Jamie asked.
"It's okay, I especially like the tenants," said Phillip, glancing into Jamie's eyes and giving his body a once-over.
Was that a look, Jamie wondered? Phillip seemed different but Jamie hadn't figured he was gay.
Jamie played it straight. "Most everyone is cool but be careful to stay away from John when he's had a few, he starts looking for a fight," he said.
"Maybe you could take care of me if he got mad," Phillip mumbled.
Where is this going, thought Jamie. "I don't know ... maybe," he said, noncommittal.
"Can I ask you a question," said Phillip, looking up into Jamie's eyes. "I was wondering, have you ever been to a gay bar?"
Well, that's a novel approach, thought Jamie. I might as well be straight-forward, the guy doesn't look to be a gay basher. Still, just keep it brief. "I have. How about you?"
The boy laughed, looked away, looked back. "There's a gay bar near the Metro stop, The Red Room, have you been there?"
"I have. How about you?"
"I was there last week and there were two guys making out in the middle of the bar. One had his hand in the other guy's pants. It was very bold," said the strange boy.
Jamie did not know how to respond to that. What an odd conversation.
"Jamie?" asked the boy. He paused, looked down, appeared to gather his thoughts.
Jamie waited; a few seconds passed. "Yes?"
"Can I blow you?" said the boy.
Jamie was a little stunned, then thought that gays are saying, 'we are everywhere,' and it looks like it's true. Hell, go for it, the guy looks promising.
