My first gay experience was at the Curzon Cinema at the far end of Sauchiehall Street Glasgow. I'd been to "mucky" cinemas before but somehow never realised what actually went on.
I'd found an empty row near the back and was looking forward to a furtive lengthy solitary wank while watching the softcore straight porn film. Then a guy came into the same row and I hurriedly put my cock away and zipped up my jeans. Unbelievably ( I was SO naive) he sat next to me on my left blocking the exit to the aisle so I just sat there frustrated at being unable to toss myself off and and get temporary relief for my permanent youthful horniness.
Then it started - his right knee made momentary contact with my left knee (I didn't know at the time that this was how it always started) and then it kept happening. Finally it touched and stayed there - I was frozen to the spot, somehow unable to move and the next thing was his hand on my knee. My mind was in a total whirl, why was I letting this happen ? And more to the point, why was it turning me on ? His hand oh so slowly caressed its way up my leg as I remained frozen - the feeling of horror that a man was touching me combined with the pleasure of being touched somehow enhanced by being "desired".
His hand edged nearer and nearer to my crotch as my brain span with conflicting feelings. I can still remember the grating sound of my jeans being slowly unzipped followed by his cool fingers expertly extracting my eager cock and masturbating me. I exploded after only a few strokes my spunk shooting everywhere as my load pumped out uncontrollably.
Then the spell was broken. I rushed out of auditorium tidying myself up as best as I could with wet patches of fresh semen on my jeans. As I went out into the brightness of the street, hiding the evidence with my anorak, I felt nothing but shame imagining everyone knew where I'd been and what depravity I'd indulged in.
That night I alternated between self-loathing and masturbating furiously remembering how good it had felt. I came seven times before falling into a fitful sleep.
After a few months, the desire to experience the pleasure of another man's hand on my cock outweighed the "gay" stigma and I became a regular at the Classic Grand in Jamaica Street Glasgow whilst also developing a sixth sense for toilets where cockfun was to be found.
