Money’s on the Dresser: Escorting, Porn and Promiscuity in Las Vegas Read Online Free PDF

that point on I finally knew what gay sex was all about. And I was hooked.

    My sexual experiences were pretty limited during high school. At fourteen, a friend of mine spent the night after a cast party for a musical we were doing. He slept on my floor, and throughout the course of the night we talked about everything. We discussed school, sex, our families, the churches we belonged to and much more. After a few hours, I got the impression he wanted me to lie next to him, so I joined him on the floor. We had been drinking, and it got flirtatious between us as the night wore on. It took me an hour of inching toward him to finally touch him. When I finally cuddled up close to him, he didn’t do anything. It took another hour for my hand to make its way down his body and touch his dick before he pushed me off. I crawled back to bed, humiliated. I thought I had hit the jackpot, potentially finding another guy who was like me, but I was wrong and felt like a complete fool. I’m not sure if he struggled with being gay or if he had wanted something more to happen, but within a few months the entire school knew what I had done and I was devastated. I went from finally feeling somewhat sexually liberated within my group of friends and accepted at school to feeling ashamed, rejected, and the butt of many jokes for the rest of my high school years. Throughout the next few years, every time anything sexual happened between a classmate and me, it would usually end up with the other guy getting freaked out and hating me. I think they would feel shame, confusion, and guilt about what we did, and they didn’t know how to process those emotions. They’d usually end up making fun of me with everyone else, turning away from me, never looking me in the eyes again. Eventually, the name-calling would start, and the guy I had experienced a few moments of intimacy with would be with everyone else whispering faggot, homo, queer, pansy, and so on. There were a few times guys would spit on me and laugh. I had no idea what to do but keep walking and act as if nothing happened. It took a long time before I was able to let myself open up to others sexually and emotionally because of this, and for years, I would expect any guy I was with to eventually turn on me.

    After my sophomore year, my older friends graduated and I was left with very few friends my own age. Things got worse and worse between my classmates and me, and the teasing got me so down I would skip at least one class every other day. Again, I thought maybe the solution was to transfer schools, and I somehow managed to talk my parents into it. My family had moved and I started classes at a school down the street from my house called Balfour Collegiate. From day one at Balfour, I worked incredibly hard not to speak to anyone, say anything during class, or talk to any teachers or do anything that would put me in a spotlight, except for joining show choir... a boy’s gotta sing, right? I completely changed the way I dressed, wearing only boring, drab solid-colored clothes. Almost everything I wore was army green or denim. It didn’t really work, though, and by the time my senior year came around I was the butt of many jokes as “the gay kid”... again! I literally stayed silent in almost every class, but the kids still saw me as a target for teasing. I would go home hurt, angry, and depressed, but I would often jerk off thinking about the guys who had ridiculed me. They were always the hot jock and popular type who I hated, yet I desperately wanted to be loved and accepted by them at the same time. Talk about self loathing homosexual, right?

    At Balfour, my depression worsened, and although I was fully aware of the physical changes taking place in my body, especially my increasing sex drive, the thing I wanted most was for a guy to love and be affectionate with and who would accept me. I wanted to have sex and be sexually free, but I was more interested in an emotional connection with