My Gay Life

The life of a gay Indian teen, and his exploration of his sexuality.

Chapter One

Hi, my name is Sunil Kotal. I’m seventeen and I’m Indian. My parents brought me to to England when I was six years old. I’m quite tall at five eleven, but I’m rather slim in build. I have long black wavy hair, and I’ve been told that I am handsome, but I prefer to be called pretty, as I am gay. I have known I liked boys since early school days, when I found myself admiring the other boys in the changing room. I began masturbating when I was thirteen, and the object of my fantasies was a gorgeous boy in my class, named Kevin Porter. I was attracted to him from the moment I saw him. Sadly, Kevin was not gay and so my fantasies were never fulfilled. But, happily another boy in my year, Ian Boyce, was. He was nowhere near as beautiful as Kevin, but he did seem to like me rather a lot.

He started to hang around me all the time, and he made it clear that he enjoyed being with me. So much so, that I began to think that he fancied me.
He would give me little gifts, books, toy cars, that sort of thing. We were only thirteen, so neither of us knew anything about sexual attraction, or what it what it really meant to be gay.
One day, we were in the dining hall, and Ian had gone up for seconds. I happened to notice a small magazine in his duffel bag on the floor. I pulled it out and it was a gay magazine. Not the explicit anal fucking type that is common today, but a magazine about male nudists. I quickly flicked through the pages of naked men, posing and playing beach games and the like. All the men in the pictures were young muscled hunks, and all had limp penises. Even so, the sight of these stunning men, caused me to have an erection. I was so transfixed by these wonderful pictures of well-hung beautiful men, that I didn’t notice Ian slide on to the bench beside me. He looked horrified. He snatched the magazine out of my hand and stuffed it back inside his bag.
‘That’s my property, not yours. You shouldn’t have touched it.’

He got up with his dinner tray, grabbed his bag and walked off to another table. What I had discovered, without realising, was Ian’s wank mag. When he disappeared at break time, he must have been in the toilet, masturbating with the magazine. Things were very awkward between me and Ian for the next week or so, he didn’t come near me, and avoided even looking at me the whole time.
Eventually, I cornered him in the playground and apologised. I assured him that his secret was safe with me, that he needn’t worry about me telling anyone, and I meant it. I asked him if I could see the magazine again. He looked deeply suspicious. ‘Why do you want to see it?’
I shrugged. ‘Because I liked the pictures…..’
He looked defiant. ‘Well, you can’t. I don’t have it.’
I wasn’t to be put off. ‘Well can you bring it tomorrow? I’d really like to see it Ian, really I would. It’ll be our secret then, just you and me, OK?’
He still looked doubtful. ‘OK, but you promise not to tell, promise?’
I promised him as sincerely and as convincingly as I could, and he seemed to accept it. We had no further contact that day, and the next day, Ian kept his distance again. I guessed he still wasn’t sure of my intentions.
It wasn’t until the last bell, that I saw him to talk to. As all the rest of the class filed out to go home, Ian walked across the playground to the toilet block. I followed a minute later. Inside, Ian was nowhere to be seen, but then a cubicle door opened and he beckoned me inside.

With the door locked, he made me promise again not to tell, I did so, on scout’s honour. Though I wasn’t a scout and nor was Ian. He fished inside his bag and brought out the same magazine, but now it was looking rather the worse for wear, and some of the pages were stuck together. I had a suspicion about the glue. He handed me the magazine and I turned the pages, slowly this time, getting a really good look at all the naked men. As I leered at the men with their big limp cocks and their lovely round arses, I began to get an erection, a noticeable bulge appeared in my trousers. It was becoming a little uncomfortable, so I adjusted myself. Ian noticed my discomfort and said. ‘Does it do that to you as well?’
‘What?’
‘You know, give you a hard on?’
‘Yeah, I suppose it does.’
Ian smiled. “Yeah, me too, I’ve got one now, do you want to see it?’
I became embarrassed and stammered, ‘Err, yeah….OK.’
Ian undid his zip and pulled out his cock, it was stiff and hard, I had never seen one, other than my own of course, so close up and in the flesh.
I was even more embarrassed now, but I just stared at his beautiful stiff, white cock. He held it in his fist, slowly stroking it up and down, it looked wonderful.
‘Can I see yours?’
I put the magazine down on top of the cistern, it was surplus to requirements now, seeing as I had the real thing in front of me.
I undid my trousers and took my cock out. Happily, it was as stiff and as big as Ian’s.
‘It looks nice Sunny, really nice.’ Sunny is what everyone calls me. ‘Can I touch it?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah if you want. Can I touch yours?’
And so, began my first gay sex experience. A mutual wank in the boys toilets at school with Ian Boyce, aged thirteen. We both ejaculated pretty quick, but managed to avoid getting spunk all over our clothes.

We met up regularly to wank each other off in the toilets, over the next six months, but we never went further than that. No bum stuff, not then, but I have made up for it since. Ian though, clearly put off by the anti-gay comments he had heard in the school, decided that being queer wasn’t for him. He just lost all interest in me and our secret meetings in the toilets.

It wasn’t until a little later that I got my hands on a real gay porno mag. “Stroke” magazine was a real revelation to me. Men putting their cocks in other men’s mouths and up their arses seemed so incredibly sexy and I got incredibly horny, just thinking about all the pictures. The man who gave me the magazine was a temporary maintenance guy at the school. His name was Gerry and he was in his late twenties and really fit looking.
He approached me one day as I was coming in to the school. He was by the main gate fixing a hinge or something. He called me over and said that he knew about me and Ian, as he’d seen us coming out of the toilets several times and guessed what we were up to. I denied it of course, but he just said something like, he wished that he’d been there with us.
Before I walked away, he said, ‘Pop in to my hut and I’ll show you something you’ll like.’

Initially, I had no intention of going anywhere near his hut, but what he’d said about wanting to be there, had me wondering. Plus, I was intrigued as to what it was he had to show me. So, at the end of classes, I wandered over to the maintenance hut, which was just a few yards away from the toilet block.
I looked around the playground and saw no one. I knocked on the door and it opened immediately, and Gerry was standing there.
‘Come in kid, what’s your name?’
‘Sunil, but everyone calls me Sunny.’
“OK Sunny, my name’s Gerry.’
I looked around the hut, it was full of tools and wood and metal sheet and stuff. A workbench covered in tools, went around three sides of the hut. It had one small window, but it was covered by a girly calendar and some stickers.
Gerry locked the door behind me, which worried me a bit. I thought, what if he’s a serial killer and not, as I hoped, a queer.
He smiled at me and said. ‘So you and your mate been getting up to sexy stuff in the bogs eh?’
Again I denied it, and began to feel very uncomfortable.
‘Oh, ok. If that’s the case, you won’t want to see what I’ve got here.’
I almost said no, and that I had better go, but my sense of curiosity got the better of me.
‘Ok, what is it?’
Gerry gave me a broad grin. ‘Have a look at these.’ He opened a tall locker and removed from the shelf, a stack of photographs.
He handed them to me. Some were black and white, others were colour.. All of them were of men engaged in various homosexual acts.
They were nothing like the pictures in Ian’s little magazine. This was full on gay pornography. Men with cocks in their mouths and others with a cock up their arse. Every picture had an image that was graphic and hardcore.
‘So, what do think of them, Sunny. Like them?’

I was speechless. I looked up, and Gerry was grinning from ear to ear. I glanced back at his locker and saw on the shelf, a glossy colour magazine.
He saw where I was looking and said, ‘Oh, you want to see that as well?’
He grabbed the magazine and handed it to me, and took the photos back.
It was a copy of “Stroke” magazine.
I leafed through it, page by page. The pictures were of a much better quality than the amateurish ones I had just seen. These photos were amazing. The erection that had been growing in my trousers, suddenly increased.
A movement out of the corner of my eye, caused me to look away from the very explicit pictures. Gerry had undone his overalls and had got his cock out. It was huge, much bigger than mine or Ian’s. I was fascinated by it, as he slowly stroked it up and down.
‘So you like cock, do you Sunny? Why don’t you have a suck on this eh?’

I was so tempted, believe me. I really wanted to slide that huge cock in to my mouth suck it. But I was terrified. This was the real thing, not just two school kids messing about in the toilets. He was a grown man. Supposing he wanted to do more with me, supposing he wanted to stick his big cock up my tight arse. I threw the magazine down and headed for the door. It was locked and I had trouble getting it open.
Behind me, Gerry was saying. ‘Come on kid. Just a quick suck. I won’t cum in your mouth, honest.’
That didn’t stop me. I managed to get out of the hut and I ran most of the way home.
From that day on, until I was sixteen, I had no sexual contact with anyone at all. But that doesn’t mean that I stopped masturbating, far from it.

One of the boys in my class told me that he rolled up a towel like a Swiss roll and fucked it. He said it was supposed to feel like a girl’s pussy. It occurred to me that if it could feel like a pussy, it could also feel like a boy’s arse.
And so, my time in the bathroom, when I was meant to be having a shower, I was in fact, wanking in to a rolled up towel. I laid on the floor with the towel under me and pretended that I was fucking various hunky men up the arse.
Pretty quickly, the towel became caked in dry spunk, I couldn’t let my mum see it, so I kept it. I hid it under the bottom drawer of my wardrobe.
But the images I had seen in that copy of “Stroke” magazine did not leave me.

The thought of having a man’s cock up my arse, plagued my imagination.
I was desperate to feel the pleasure that an anal fuck was supposed to give.
And so, I began to experiment, I tried different things in the bathroom. I took it easy at first, trying the handle of my toothbrush, it didn’t have the effect I was hoping for, which was to feel what it was like to have my arse full of a man’s hard cock. It soon dawned on me that I needed some sort of lubrication. My first choice, toothpaste, was not the success I was hoping for. It didn’t ease the entry of the things I tried, but it did make my farts smell nice. Luckily, there was a jar of Vaseline in the bathroom cabinet, and that worked much better. The handle of my hairbrush slid up nice and easily, and it felt really nice.

I graduated up to bigger and bigger things. Eventually, after several months, I shamelessly ended up using my mother’s deodorant bottle. It was rounded at the end and long enough to double as a cock.
It felt glorious, stretching my arsehole wide open. It made my wank in to the towel, ten times better. After that, every time I wanked, I had that deodorant bottle right up my arse. Even when mum finished with it (I always washed it afterward use) I retrieved it from the waste basket and kept it with my towel.
By the time of my sixteenth birthday, I felt that I was not just eager to fuck a man up the arse, but also more than happy to have a cock shoved up my arse as well.

And that happened, just two months after my birthday.

TBC
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