The first time I kissed a guy

At the age of 24, I began to suspect I was gay. I’d only ever kissed one girl, at the age of 11, and I hadn’t enjoyed it. I had had sex once, with a prostitute, and she hadn’t turned me on either. While working at a ski resort, I met Tony, a German guy. He was effeminate and stereotypically gay.

tony m, looking disturbingly handsome

We became friends, and one night, we were alone in my room, playing poker. We were both a little drunk. I mustered up my courage and told him I knew he was gay, and was unsure of my sexuality and wanted to experiment with him. He was taken aback and flustered. Eventually he composed himself and said we would have to take it slow and see how it went. But before he left, he decided to kiss me. I noticed I immediately got an erection.

A few days later I was alone in the laundry room. By coincidence, Tony came in to do his laundry too. We made small talk, then an idea crossed my mind. I told him to shut the door. Then I kissed him again. It was strange feeling a moustache against my skin. I smiled and opened the door and left. I felt fluttery and excited for about an hour after.

Another day, we took a walk into the town. He wanted to know how long I’d known I was gay. I shrugged. He proudly said he’d known all his life he was gay, from when he was a boy. I realised how different we were – I had always been attracted to girls, with only one or two exceptions.

By this point, his personality was grating on me. He was self-absorbed, overly talkative, bitchy and boring. I became tired with our conversations. He didn’t have any friends at the resort, that I knew of.  I wanted to distance myself from him, partly because I was afraid of homophobia if anyone found out about us.

One night I found myself staying over in his bedroom. He was drunk. I took off only the minimum of my clothes and pretended I just wanted to sleep. He fell asleep quickly, snoring. The bed was made for just one person and was uncomfortably small. I stared at his bedroom ceiling the entire night. His room was stiflingly hot, even though it was the middle of winter. I left as soon as morning came, making sure no-one saw me.

Tony visited me at work to tell me he’d dreamt about me, and hinted that he was starting to fall in love with me. I was angry that he’d come to my workplace when he knew I wanted to be secretive about our relationship. I told him to leave. Later he came to my apartment, with a plan that we should go to Hawaii together. I told him I’d made a mistake and I wasn’t gay after all. He became angry at me for leading him on.

During my last couple of weeks at the resort, I admitted that I was still curious to try sex with him. However, he was still annoyed with me, But he was a bit drunk and he admitted he hadn’t had sex for a few months. He said he was going to his bedroom, and if I wanted, I could follow. After he left, I sat in the lounge for several minutes, unsure of what to do. In the end I went to my friends’ house next door instead.

When I left, he gave me this note in German:

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Here’s a translation courtesy of Reddit:

Dear Paul,
It was a pleasure getting to know you. Best of luck and success on your journey. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any inconveniences with everything I’ve done. But I’m sick of playing hide and seek. Safe travel and have fun with the translation.
Ps: keep me up to date via Internet. You always meet twice in your life.

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