My First Gay Bar

...another in a series of first-times for a sex addict!

After having sex w/a few men at this point and shoplifting male magazines (which told me about things like gloryholes, restrooms, parks, etc) I decided to try a gay bar. I'm not sure how I came to this conclusion - but I did.

I was a resourceful kid. Remember - these were the days before the internet. I found in the white-pages a 'gay hotline'. It was a resource for troubled souls who needed guidance. That wasn't me. A guy on the line (Greg, I remember) told me about a number of bars. He gave me names - and these were listed in the white pages as well. These places were called things like 9 of Hearts, Keys, Illusions! UGH. Even at 17 I knew they were lame. But then one struck a chord: Sumpter Trucking Co. That was the one.

Dowtown was a good 30 min drive - so I had to figure out where it was and how to arrange being away from my parents. Again, using my wiles - I hatched a plan: I worked at a restaurant that turned into a bar after dinner. I bussed tables and barbacked (no - not barebacked........well, that's not true either) until 2:30a when the bar closed - and then it was usually until 4a before all was cleaned up. My parents never expected me home before 3:30a at the earliest.

One night, at work, I conveniently got ill around 11p. Instead of going home - I headed downtown. As smart as I thought I was, I had at least two things to learn:

• Don't go to a gay bar on a Monday night
• Don't go to a levi/leather bar dressed in a yellow Polo shirt, chinos and Topsiders (the uniform I had to wear to work - it was a very preppy town)

There were 5 guys in the bar - including the bartender and myself. Besides the bartender, I was also the youngest guy there by - ohhhh - 4 decades. Sitting at the end of the bar, I believe I was approached by each and everyone of those guys. SHOCK! . Each at some point and time bought me a beer. That'd be a third lesson. Don't drink 4 beers quickly on an empty stomach when you're 17. You get tipsy!!!!

The bartender kept an eye out on me making the guys back off somewhat. Though the guys didn't interest me, I did want to see what was in the bar, backrooms, etc. But I was nervous and ventured nowhere.

I only knew the bar I worked at closing at 2:30p. But by 12:30, the bartender started to shut stuff down. He hustled the guys out - but not me. He said I could stay until he broke down the bar. I don't know if he knew I was underage or not. Maybe I was just closer to his age. I'm guessing he was early 30s. Decent enough looking. Dark hair/beard. Leather vest. 501s.

He came and sat next to me - and chatted. Eventually his hands were on my thigh. His tongue in my mouth. I reciprocated.

At some point, tipsy turned into drunk. He showed me around the bar. There was no backroom as I had imagined. There was - but it wasn't what you'd think. Just an out of the way room for a pool table. Before I knew it was sitting on the edge of that table making out w/the bartender. Before I knew it he had my pants off and I was still on the edge of said table.

If you really stretch your imagination - you'll figure out that I eventually was on my back on that pool table and not taking the cue. His cue - yes. Tsk Tsk Tsk on him for taking advantage of a drunken minor!!!! .

What I remember was enjoyable. Afterward (or during?) we exchanged names. To be honest - I kind of heard it. Kind of didn't. Kind of didn't care. He started being really sweet afteward. Yes- honest to g-d, it was a turn off. Excuse me - you just closed early to fuck a 17 yo on a pool table!!!!

After closing up - he walked me to my car. Asking to see me again! I said maybe. He asked if I remembered his name - and I was still drunk mind you - and said what I thought it was - 'Mary'. After acting like a huge queen (or Mary) he said 'BARRY'. ooops on my part.

I did go back the next Monday. Another fuck. Then next week I left for college.