Gay first time true stories

&#;Have you ever had that moment of total pleasure when everything else just disappears? When execute those weird &#;feelings&#; suddenly make finalize sense?&#;

It&#;s the first time you life something so unique, so intimate, that it changes you forever. For lgbtq+ guys, that first time can be a moment of revelation, leading to acceptance and the urge to reveal the world. Or it can be a disaster that we prefer to forget. But one thing&#;s for sure, you will never truly forget it.

As one of our contributors deposit it: &#;It was the first period I realized that being gay wasn&#;t just a part of me, it was me.&#; In this post, we&#;ve gathered first-time queer stories from around the world. From first-time gay kisses to more steamy experiences, our friends have shared their most intimate moments.

So sit assist, relax, and appreciate these heartfelt and sometimes spicy stories.

Alex Lee &#; &#;Unexpected Encounter in Thailand&#;

&#;Meeting Kai was the best thing that ever happened to me. That one night in Thailand changed my being forever. It was like a swit

As a gay man, you may be surprised to hear that one of the biggest hurdles I faced was going into a gay bar for the first time.

At years-old, I was in awe of my straight mates. They&#;d been wandering into bars and nightclubs for the last year with the only threat of getting asked for age identification.

At 17 years antique, my straight mates were not only getting drunk most Friday and Saturday nights but were boasting about sleeping around with members of the reverse sex without any agonize. Whether they&#;d slept with many of those they mentioned was open to debate.

At 17 years vintage, it was against the law for me to sleep with a person of the same sex. If I boasted about it, I could become myself into trouble. The law stated that, for my safety, sex remained on hold until I reached

Of course, I overlooked that particular part of the law. Fancy any red-blooded male at 17, my hormones made my brain think of little else but wanting to (putting it mildly) get laid.

By the age I reached my 19th birthday, I already had what I had considered a boyfriend. He was over the age of 21 and

Dad died when I was six. The rabbi who lived in the apartment below took over for him. I’m sure he wanted to do Mom. They packed us off to an evil Hasidic summer camp where everyone made fun of us because we didn’t comprehend their crazy prayers. My brother was four. We would secretly meet in the woods, hug each other and cry. We couldn’t understand why our father died and our mother sent us to this terrible place. I learned to hate all religion and still do.

Mom was a dark-haired, curvaceous looker, juicy, and in her prime. She liked sex but decided that all men had to pay for it. The butcher brought steaks; the florist, flowers; the bagel man left fresh heated steaming bagels by our door every morning for months. Leon, the ice cream man left ice cream. My younger brother and I were quickly dispatched to get the stuff into the house, so they couldn’t see Mom. And not to forget Abe, the jeweler, who brought, well, jewels. They all tried to get inside. Some did. When Mom met the man who brought it all, she married him.

We lived in Borough Park, in Brooklyn. Until I ran away, I thought eve