Robert sat daydreaming in the computer tech class on a hot, end-of-summer day in Washington, D.C., in 1978. A 10-year Navy vet, Robert was a straight acting, straight appearing six-foot, two-inch black hunk who had applied to attend the prestigious computer tech class.
Robert understood that learning tech was great for his career. But he already knew the material and he was thinking about the dynamite sex he had the night before with the hot young white boy. Jamie.
The sex had made Robert admit to himself he was gay.
He knew that he was not a guy who occasionally screwed men just to get his rocks off. No, he liked going to bed with men, and he got turned on by cocks and by sucking them. And he loved sinking his dick in a tight male butt, especially if it belonged to a fresh young white guy.
His memories took him back to his first sight of male-male sex. He had just come of age when he stumbled upon the family preacher, a fire-breathing gay-hating black man, seducing a sweet 18-year-old caramel-skinned virgin boy in the church basement.
Robert was transfixed as he secretly watched them. The kid sucked the muscular preacher, then the man gave the kid a hell of a fuck, then they told each other they loved it.
The memory made Robert think of time lost. I was turned on like I had never been before. I wished I were that preacher. I wished I were that kid. I was gay but I couldn't admit it.
But that was a different time for gays. It was 1964 and Robert was eighteen when he surreptitiously watched the preacher. Gays were shunned, reviled. It was the late 1970s when Robert sat in class. Times were not much better but there was the growing gay pride movement, and, in D.C., gay sex was widely available.
So where do I go from here, he wondered. He'd wasted a lot of time, but he was still young. Was it possible to live as an out gay man?
Sure as hell not in the military. Come out and he would be out, all right, out on his ass. He had given 10 years to the Navy, but you could kiss that goodbye.
The class ended and the professor asked to speak with him. Robert had come to respect the fit, white man. He knew his stuff and he wanted his students -- black, white, whatever -- to succeed.
They went to a nearby coffee shop and the teacher got right to the point. "I know this is personal, Robert, but I won't waste your time. Where do you want to be in five years?" he asked.
Robert gave his speech about captaining a ship, all the while thinking, do I still want that?
"Here's why I ask," said the teacher. "I've taught this class to about two hundred students. And you are the best student I've ever had. You learn quickly and you're a leader. The class listens when you speak, and your questions are incisive."
He explained the Pentagon planned to triple enrollment in the class and expand tech training. "Here's my pitch -- I'd like you to join me in teaching this class. You'd keep your rank with the Navy and be stationed here in D.C.," said the teacher.
Robert was floored. He enjoyed the technology training but never thought it could lead to a new career.
"Wow. I'm flattered sir. It would be a major change for me," said Robert, who was already thinking he wanted the job. He had gotten tired of the constant travel aboard ship, living out of cramped quarters, and coming home every few months to his empty apartment in Virginia.
Could this be an answer to the dilemma of his sexuality?
Robert walked to his room at the Y in a daze. Things were going my way, he thought. He liked D.C., and an assignment near the Pentagon could be great for his career.
He was wound up, but it was too hot to go jogging. He decided to visit the Y's gym.
Robert didn't know it, but golden boy Jamie was thinking along the same lines. He
too was wound up, but it was due to going to bed with Robert the day before. He had walked over to the Y for a quick swim.
Jamie changed into a tiny blue speedo that matched his eyes and hugged his pale, round bottom. If you got it, flaunt it, he thought as he made his way to the pool, a towel flung over a shoulder.
The Y was a major cruising spot in the 1970s. Hook ups were common, sex occurred spontaneously in the showers and sauna, and there were blowjobs in dark corners of the locker room every day.
His walk to the pool caused guys to stare and a few made horny comments. Jamie was not a stuck-up prick tease. He liked to show off the goods, but he shared them too.
The humpy, 21-year-old white guy with the feathered brown hair did laps for about 20 minutes. Jamie's slim, toned body made clear he a good swimmer. He had been on his high school team until an incident with the coach forced him to leave the team.
Jamie rested for a few and got out of the pool to get a drink of water.
Meanwhile, Robert was doing his three times a week free-weight routine. The burly black man sweated freely as his arms, shoulders and back muscles expanded and strained his white wife beater t-shirt.
Robert finished his workout and relaxed by walking around the track that overlooked the pool. He spotted a guy with a wide back that tapered into a taut speedo filled with a firm, round butt.
Damn, that's about perfect, Robert thought, as the swimmer bent over the water fountain. The guy turned and rose, his wet hair plastered to his head. Robert stopped in his tracks. Holy shit, that's Jamie.
This is too much, Robert thought. What do you call it -- Kismet? We were meant to keep running into each other. He decided to take advantage of his luck and 'accidently' bump into the young man.
Jamie, oblivious to being watched, returned to the pool to complete his second 20-minute workout.
Robert extended his gym session by riding a stationary bike, figuring the aerobic workout would take the place of his jog. After about 20 minutes he returned to the track overlook, didn't see Jamie, and hurried to the locker room.
Jamie was sitting naked at his locker, the wet speedo at his feet. The swim was great, but Jamie was disappointed in the Y's daily parade of males.
Then Robert came around the corner. Their eyes met.
"Fancy meeting you here," said Jamie as he took in the tall husky black man in the skin-tight t-shirt. "I thought this was a class day for you."
Robert moved closer to the naked young man and stood over him. "Class is done. It was too hot to run outside so I decided to get a workout in."
Jamie looked blatantly at the crotch of Robert's gym shorts about a foot from his face. "It looks pretty hot here too," he said quietly.
Robert grinned. "That reminds me, we didn't finish our meeting yesterday," he said, hinting that they never fucked though the sex had been boiling hot.
"Hmm, yea," Jamie mumbled, staring at the shorts. This guy kept putting his groin in my face, he thought, though I'm not complaining. He looked around the locker room, saw no one, and reached out and took hold of Robert's cock bulge.
