I remember one of the last dares he said. It was very…it started getting me riled up.
“You have to sit here the whole time in just your boxer shorts.” More and more they started to get a little heavier, a little more intense to me. We didn’t do a lot of “Truth”, there wasn’t a lot of “Truth”, there was like “Dares” and they started off really light, little things, I dare you to go outside in the middle of the night, take your pants off or something and run outside and run back in, easy things. So the whole night we’re eating pizza, watching TV, playing video games, normal stuff, and he brings up the idea of playing “Truth or Dare.” And of course I’m like, yes! I don’t know how I’m going to make this happen but something’s going to happen. And I remember that urge for like, “This is going to be the moment, something, I don’t know what’s going to happen but this is going to happen.” We were always really close but there was this energy. He was being a little weird, maybe it was just because I was leaving, I don’t know. So I was staying at his house as a little goodbye, and that night was a little different. I definitely, I had encounters with girls and stuff like that, but I knew that wasn’t what I wanted, I knew that wasn’t how I was feeling. We still had not any real contact with another male. I would say it was a couple weeks before I moved to Georgia, it was the summer after my sophomore year of high school and I stayed at his house just as a kind of a last hoorah. We were on dance teams together, I guess I should have known he was gay then, but, we were on dance teach together, we ran track, we did a lot of sports together so I was always sleeping over at his house, and there would be times that I would be over there spending the night wishing something would happen, anything, a kiss, just him telling me, like, you know, high school boy’s fantasy I guess. We went through middle school into high school together and I definitely had a crush on him, I just never really, it was just like I really liked him, I didn’t know if he was gay, we never talked about it, I never even let that part of me really out. I had a friend who I had known since probably 7th grade. I didn’t really know anybody who was gay but I knew that I was gay. Growing up in Hawaii, it was different, it was a bit isolated, I didn’t have a lot of gay friends, I didn’t have any gay friends actually. Since then, he has tried to add me on Facebook a few times (he keeps making new ones) but I block him every time.I’m Tirrell and I’m from Atlanta, Georgia.īefore moving to Georgia, I lived in Hawaii until I was 15. After a few heated phone conversations that consisted of him drunk and accusing me of telling his friends that I didn’t even know, I finally blocked him on all social media and also blocked his phone number. He began to get really paranoid that I was telling people about our encounters. We hooked up a few times after that but I really began to question his sanity. He didn’t want his mom to come home and see that he had company. I then had to walk a block to my truck because he didn’t want me to park his driveway. I quietly opened the door and stepped outside. Luckily he had a door that led outside in his room. It obviously didn’t feel very pleasurable so I never ended up… Uhm… finishing.Ībout 30 minutes into the disastrous encounter, his mother comes home. He put the ziplock over my dick and tried to suck it. He went to the kitchen and got a ziplock bag (I kid you not). Neither of us had any condoms so he decided to get creative. He wanted to try preforming oral on me but didn’t actually want to put his mouth on my bare penis. We jerked each other off for a few minutes but soon grew tired of it. His mom was still at work and would be for the next hour or so. I was pretty horny so I got in my truck and drove to his house.
But, then it was a struggle.Īnyway, one day I had just gotten home from Hawaii with my family, I got a text from you know who asking me to come over. Now I find it funny because I have my own set of friends and am much more sure myself and what I stand for. In middle school, he was only nice to me when it was beneficial for him. He was (and probably still is) what you call a “follower”. You see, I use the word “friend” lightly. The conversation was usually nothing out of the ordinary and then would unexpectedly take a sexual turn. I had been texting an old friend back and forth for a couple months.