Man Boy Love Stories

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Man Boy Love Stories

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You probably think I’m about to share some hot erotic story with you based on the title of this page. Sorry to disappoint but that’s not what this story is about. Instead, I’m going to tell you how I ended up falling for a gay guy who I’ve secretly been in love with for over a year.
Just to tell you a little about me – I guess I’m your average dude that’s into average guy things. If I had to describe myself, I suppose I look a little like that actor Grant Gustin from the Flash except I’m a little older at 35.
I’m married, have a wife and two children and live just outside of the Tampa Bay area in Clearwater. I love football and am a diehard Bucs fan. My job is really quite boring – I work for a local municipality in waste management (Yes, I’m a garbage man but I get paid really well).
So about a year ago, I joined a new gym because I was hoping to find a facility with more free weights. As it turns out, I ended up joining a chain outfit because it just so happened to have what I was looking for.
One Monday night after work, I stopped in to do a chest workout. I always try to pump my pecs on Mondays because it’s just part of my routine. I remember loading two 45-lb plates on each side of the universal bar and then trying to execute the reps. That’s where I ran into trouble …
I got two lifts out but on the third one, I was struggling. If you have ever lifted weights, you know how scary it can be when you realize you might not be able to finish a rep.
As I started to panic a bit, a guy who was working out on the bench next to me saw my dilemma. He immediately got up and positioned himself behind me and clutched the bar with his hands, helping me to pull the weights back up to the stand.
As we got to chatting a bit, he told me his name was Billy. Super nice guy who apparently had been working out at this gym for several years. We swapped stories about our favorite workouts and talked a little bit how crowded it was in the free weight area.
Billy is one of the most athletically built dudes I have ever seen. He looks a lot like the well known bodybuilder with a twin, Lewis Harrison ( see not safe for work link ). In fact, I’ve even heard people at our gym ask him if there is any relations.
Same age as me but probably looks closer to 30. This guy has 16 inch guns, a massive chest and veins popping out of his forearms like the hulk.
So as time went on, I would regularly see Billy on Monday nights. It didn’t take long before we became workout buddies. What’s been nice about our friendship is knowing someone is waiting there for you. It kind of holds you accountable so you don’t skip gym visits, you know?
Honestly, I had no idea that Billy was gay. It never really came up I guess. Plus he never gave me an indication to think he was gay either. Sorry to be stereotypical but this is Florida so it’s not like I haven’t been exposed to guys who are into guys. The guy just doesn’t give off that vibe.
So one night after working out, we decided to grab a cup of coffee at Perkins – which is nothing more than Denny’s with a different name. As we drove from the gym in his black pickup truck, I remember him telling me that he thought my arm tattoo was cool and how he was thinking of getting something for himself.
It seemed like we were at that restaurant for hours – to the point that I had to call my wife and let her know I was going to be late getting back home because I was hanging with my gym buddy.
After we talked about how we might change up our workouts so that things didn’t get stale, the conversation turned more personal. He told me that was born in St. Pete and was a mechanic for an airline. I shared with some things to – about my wife and two boys. Plus there was football.
At some point, I remember him telling me that he had broken up with someone about six months earlier. As I listened carefully, it became clear to me that his ex was a guy that he met at AA.
Looking back, I can remember feeling a bit shocked that Billy was gay. Like I said, he just never game me that impression – ever. And he never once made me feel like he was looking for something.
Later that night when I got home and went to bed, my wife and I made love. What’s weird is that I started to have flashes of Billy in my mind.
I can remember kissing her and thinking of him when my eyes were closed. My wife must have figured out something was off because she asked if I was OK. I told her that it had been a long day and that I probably just needed to rest.
Just having those thoughts about Billy kind of bothered me for the next several days. Trying to concentrate on my work wasn’t easy. And meeting him at the gym was even more difficult. That was over 10 months ago.
Since that time, I’ve started to have full on fantasies about my gym buddy. It’s just been easier to go with them and not fight them. I won’t lie to you – there have been a few times when I’ve even had dreams about him where I woke up the next morning with full on wood.
I’m straight – seriously – I am. But there’s just something about this guy and I don’t know what it is. And my attraction to him goes beyond just his physique. Billy makes me laugh and is super funny. I just feel like I can let my guard down around him.
It’s hard to admit it but I think I am in love with him. Worse, I am pretty sure he’s picked up on it because of some comments he’s made. If he’s attracted to me, he’s not letting on.
Just last week, he told me that he’s started seeing someone. A guy he apparently met online. He also broke the news to me that we might not be able to lift weights anymore together because he’s going to be spending more time with this person. I remember how jealous I felt and just having those feelings freaked me out.
All of this just sucks. I’m so confused. I mean I know that I am into women. I’m also very attracted to my wife. Still, I don’t know what to do. I can’t get Billy off my mind. He’s even started to pop into my thoughts when I spank my monkey.
Can a straight guy fall in love with a gay man? I’m here to tell you yes because it happened to me – and still is. How it happened I don’t know but it did.
Now I’m starting to question my own orientation. Maybe it’s time to talk to a professional.
Do you have a story you would like to share. Visit our pitching guidelines and share how it really happened to you.
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Letters From Our Readers

Dear NAMBLA:

I recently turned 15 years old and would like to commend NAMBLA on the
Bulletin. I figured I would write to help educate your readers on
what a 15-year-old thinks and sometimes has to go through in the 80s
and now the 90s.

My father is an alcoholic and my mother passed away when I was
ten. My life was in prepubertal turmoil. My father, when
drinking, was verbally and physically abusive. In my opinion he
really didn't care what I did. On many occasions I had to prepare
my own meals. I already knew that I stood alone. It was
time to run. I started missing school and became a streetwise
tough.

I feel that I am a sensitive person and considerate to others, the way
my mother was. But it wasn't always that way. Loneliness
shadowed over me. I started at about 11 years old to steal and
cheat my way through life, vandalizing property and the very things I
loved most. I was lost, not knowing who I was.

From what I can remember about mother, she was an absolute angel,
considerate and very willing to help others who were in need, sometimes
taking from herself. Even though my father never gave her
anything, she sometimes gave what she had most of and that was love for
people. My mother understood life. But not enough to pull
herself out of a crisis.

Despite all the good I remember about her, I continued to do the things
I was doing. Even when I didn't want to do things, I forced
myself into doing them for the hell of it.

Then one day when I was riding my skateboard at a local park I noticed
a man about 30ish staring at me. At the time I had no idea what
man/boy love was. However, I knew what faggots were. On the
streets, me and my friends used to tease and harass them. I
assumed he was one.

This particular day it was hot and I was thirsty. There was a
water fountain about maybe ten feet from where this man was
sitting. I was thirsty and decided to take the chance. I
skated over to the fountain only to find out that it was broken. 
I looked back only to find the man standing in back of me. 
"Thirsty are ya?" he said. I looked up at him and said in a wise
tone, "What's it to you?"

"I mean no harm," he replied, "just offering to buy you a soda.” 
He said he had two children about my age at home. He told me he
knew what it was like to be thirsty.

I immediately built up confidence with him. We went to a local
store for a soda. He asked me to sit and talk with him for a
while. To pass the time, I did. I sat with him for about
two hours. Those two hours changed my life in a very positive
way. The conversation we had, made me feel like someone
again. That is where this story really begins. We discussed
many things mainly about myself. I told him what had happened to
me, and that I felt rejected and unloved by everyone. He
understood my feelings. Just talking made me feel better, and
like I was someone, something I hadn't felt since my mother died.

It was getting late and I had to go. We said good-bye to each
other and walked in opposite directions, never setting another date to
meet. I got about a block away, and suddenly realized how great a
guy he was. I turned and jumped on my skateboard, cruising at
full speed heading towards him to make another time when we could talk
some more. He agreed to meet me the next day.

This time he prepared me a lunch and brought me a soda. He asked
me if I wanted to ride to a state park to relax and to talk some
more. I agreed, and that is where we went. When we arrived
he took time to explain some of the wildlife, and also the process of
evolution. His objective was to broaden my understanding of life,
and the difficulties of what anything in life has to go through to
survive. We walked through the park for hours talking, and I felt
a very special bond between us. He encouraged me to stay in
school. Looking back at the steps he took before even bringing up
school still fascinates me. He told me he was attending
university and almost finished with his engineering degree, which made
me feel all the more special. See, in my neighborhood there are
not a whole lot of educated people, let alone someone who would get
involved with me.

Over the next few months a deep friendship developed between us. 
I eventually found out that he wasn't married with children, he was a
poor student who didn't have anything. I think that I became his
biggest asset, as he was to me. My attendance in school improved
as did my grades. I didn't feel dirty anymore, no matter how much
my father tried to make me do so.

He took a lot of time trying to get through to my father, to help him
enter alcohol rehab in order to save his job- the only good thing about
my father- and he was about to lose it. He contacted my teachers
and my friends' parents, trying to get advice on how he could raise the
quality of my life. Surprisingly there were no suspicions on why
he asked so many questions. Quite frankly, I had no idea myself.

Like I mentioned, he was poor himself, however, he bought me
clothes. Not expensive ones, but clothes that raised my
confidence within myself. He also directed some attention on
keeping me off the street, in an indirect way, by spending a lot of
quality time with me.

As the months passed by my hormones started kicking in. Puberty
was on its way. At night I would get erections. All of this
was unexplained. Questions would have to be asked. But to
whom? You guessed it. I was embarrassed to inquire, but I
got myself together and went on a quest for sexual information.

I hope I'm not boring you guys out there.

Anyway I explained to him the occurrences I was experiencing. He
explained in detail the reproductive process, also the sexual behaviors
of a variety of people including man/boy love. At first it was a
little scary. I kinda put two and two together and asked him if I
was there for that reason. He replied calmly, "Only if you want
it.” The conversation was dropped at that point. It was to
give me a lot of thinking to do. I went home that night and
started writing my very first journals. This man had given me so
much in the year or so since I'd known him, and I had given him so
little. It was time to repay what I called a debt.

I went over to his apartment the next evening and asked him what he
meant about what he said the previous night. He told me that he
was a little scared that I would never talk with him again, and that he
should have never brought it up. I explained to him it was all
right, and that I didn't know how to start. "I'll show you if
you're ready and if you want me to show you," he said. He also
stated that sex wasn't the most important thing in our relationship,
but could be very gratifying if we did it right.

We went into his bedroom, and he asked me to sit on his bed. He
tried to make me as relaxed as possible. I think he was as
nervous as I was. He massaged my back and gradually worked his
hand down to the button on my pants. He looked at me and asked me
once more if I was sure that I wanted to go through with it. I
hesitated and replied yes. [. . .] How gentle he was. [. .
.]  I'd never felt anything like
it. [. . .] A relationship was in the making, at my own
pace. 
(Eventually I did get better in bed.)

The months went by. Nothing could have been better between
us. Until I made a big mistake and went with another guy that I
met in an arcade. I really didn't feel there was anything wrong
with it. By this time I was more experienced and wanted to seek
adventure. Till this day I don't know how he found out about
it. He got very angry at me and didn't want to see me
anymore. I had hurt him in such a way that now I
understand. After three months of being away, I had to make
restitution with him. I tried calling him, just to hear his
answering machine telling anyone who called that he would get back to
them as soon as possible. He was lost and I was right behind him.

And pretty soon I again would have nothing. My father was selling
our house. He could no longer maintain it with no income. 
But he had enough to drink every day. He was just going to get an
apartment somewhere in Maryland. I had the feeling that he didn't
want me with him. I lost interest once again in school, though I
did attend. How could I be so stupid, I asked myself over and
over again.

Then one day by coincidence I bumped into my friend on the
street. I walked over to him. His first words were, "Take
that earring out of your ear and do something with that hair."

"I'll see you tonight, I guess," I replied.

"Here's five dollars for a haircut. Intelligent people don't walk
around like that," he said.

And we parted. That night I went over to his apartment and
resumed our relationship, never once bringing up what happened.

It's a little over four years since we've known each other. He
since graduated college and is living in another city, away from his
apartment which I currently occupy at his expense. He is
currently employed at a major company, making six times what my father
ever made. My father is still drinking heavily. I no longer
speak with him for obvious reasons. I am in the 11th grade doing
well, and hope to be emancipated next year from my father. I am
drug-free and also anti-drug. I hope to further my
education. Maybe I'll set up a shelter someday for homeless and
for abused boys.

I guess the point that I wanted to make which inspired me to write this
article for your magazine is that I've heard so many bad things about
pedophiles and the harm that they cause to kids. In some cases
this may be true. If you are a boy-lover, don't supply boys with
drugs. We already live in an oppressed society. It's
difficult already growing up. Not everyone's situation is as bad
as mine was. But due to someone who cared, my life has new
meaning. My life has been for the last four years and will be
more functional than it would have been even if my mother would have
lived.

Please don't abuse the situation by incorporating pornography into your
feelings towards us boys. You get caught and it makes the
pedophiles who really care for boys look even worse than what people
already think.

I also want to take time to compliment Louis Miguelito on his article
in the May '92 Bulletin. Many readers probably couldn't
understand what he meant. I think maybe I do. I wish you
much luck in the future. Just feels like I know you.

The Peanut -- Delaware


 Personal
Experience / Stories
of Man/Boy Love

From the NAMBLA Bulletin, Vol. 
13 , No. 6, Pgs. 22 - 24, July/Aug 1992.

Personal
Experience

Stories
of Man/Boy Love




I don't remember when I first saw Adam. When I

started sixth grade in Mrs.Tronik's class, I was so busy trying to get used to

my desk and my new school and my new class that I wasn't really paying much

attention to anybody, and I was for sure not in the market for a friend. My Mom

and I had moved to Lakeland, Florida from Towson, Maryland just one week before

school started, right after Dad left. I didn't even know where we were going

until after we got in the car. I had spent the two weeks prior staying with Dad

in his little apartment he had moved into while my Mom was institutionalized

after a nervous breakdown in which she tried to kill herself. Apparently after

my Dad told her about his girlfriend he had been seeing and that he wa
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