Queer Breeze Through Pine Needles
I can’t remember exactly which was my first queer event, but I remember most of them — and I’ll try to bring them to you, even if not in perfect order.
The one that’s deeply engraved in my soul happened at the beginning of my exploring years. It was just a regular day of young guys playing hide and seek, but something about it felt different.
One of my neighborhood friends — I’ll call him Tomy — was two years older than me. He asked if I wanted to run and hide together, and I didn’t hesitate.
The city where I was born, and where I’ve spent most of my life, is a small European town nestled high in the mountains. A short run from almost anywhere leads you straight into the woods. That’s exactly what happened.
We ran until we reached a secluded spot, fully covered by trees. I sat down on a broken log while Tomy stood in front of me, watching me from above. Then, with a bold tone, he said:
“I have one cigarette. Do you want to share?”
“Certainly,” I answered immediately.
He pulled the cigarette from his pocket and handed it to me.
“Light it, if you want. But I’ve hidden the lighter on me – you’ll have to find it first. If that’s fine with you.”
Tomy’s eyes were full of passion as he spoke.
I joined the game and asked, “Is it in your left sock?” -checking with both hands.
“Cold,” he said.
“Is it in your right pocket?” I asked, gently touching him there.
“Hot,” he replied.
Then I put my hand on his left pocket and felt his rising bulk.
“You are almost there,” he said, gently touching my hair.
I looked into his eyes and began to rub his bulk. I could feel my blood rushing through my body, and I felt his pulse in every part of him. He touched my face with his left hand while unzipping his pants with his right.
“Can you take it?” he asked.
“I’ll try,” I said – and the magic began.
I tried many things that day in the woods. But I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.
The only sad part was that, as I walked home, I had a lingering feeling that I’d done something very wrong.
I don’t have photos of most of the moments that shaped me. So I’ll use random images — like this one from San Francisco. Even though I took that photo, the real events happened far away from there.
❤️🔥Exited