A Wasted Life

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This is more of an essay, or perhaps an autobiography, rather than a story. Although much of what I have to say is based on my life experiences, the first lesson I have to share is to “Be yourself” and don’t try to live your life to anyone else’s expectations. I was born in 1941 and raised in a small, rural community in upstate New York. Now, in those days it was not cool to be queer there, or in most places in the US.

The second lesson, if you are fortunate enough to find someone to love that can return that love, make sure the relationship is based on love and intimacy, not just sex.



When I was in first grade I came down with Rheumatic Fever, and was pulled from school for the rest of that year, and restarted first grade the following fall. Due to the Doctors’ orders, I was restricted from participating in most sporting events for at least a couple years for fear of damage to my heart.

Due to these physical restraints, the other boys in my class had a 2 or 3 year jump on me. While I was sitting on the sidelines, they were learning, and developing skills at shooting basketballs, throwing and hitting softballs, playing volleyball and soccer. Typically, the P E Teacher would select team captains, which would then choose the players for their teams. Because I was considered the poorest player I was always the last to be chosen. This may be the reason why, even today, I am not into sports.

In high school, things went pretty much the same. If some of you older folks might remember, most schools back then had open showers. One big stall with 5 or 7 shower heads. The guys would come in from the gym, strip and shower. All kinds of cock hanging around, but never any hanky panky, I noticed that most of the guys were cut, but there were a couple that still had foreskins. I was hung like a stud mouse, and it was embarrassing to me to strip in front of those guys.

One afternoon one of my classmates and I were hanging around after school let out. We both lived within walking distance of the school and didn’t need to catch a school bus home. He was the biggest guy in my class, about 6’4 and well over 200 lbs. I don’t even know who started it, however, we agreed to suck each other. He was huge, about 9″ long and seems like the diameter of a coke bottle. Playing with this monster I of course got as big a hardon as I could get. He clamped down a little too hard with his teeth and hurt me and almost choked me to death with his, so we ended up just jacking each other off. His was the first dick I ever had in my mouth. I had a couple or three JO sessions with a couple other classmates my senior year. We all graduated in 1959.

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After graduation I secured a job in a city about 25 miles away. To save gas and car expenses my Dad arranged for me to ride to and from work with Acky. He was married to a woman that Dad worked with and he worked the same hours that I did but not the same place. Acky was probably about early 50’s. He and his wife had never had children of their own but adopted a girl 2 or 3 years older than myself and a boy about 4 or 5 years younger than I.

One day, on the way home from work, Acky pulled off the side of the very lightly traveled road to take a leak. He said he wanted to show me something. He insisted I feel the “lump” in his shaft. Yes there was one and me feeling it caused him to get an erection. While I “felt” the lump he asked me not to stop (feeling it) as it felt very good to him. He said my hands were so soft, like the hands of an angel. This whole episode caused me to get a hardon also, but I didn’t let him know. Suddenly, his cock started pulsing, and shot off a seemingly endless amount of semen. Over the next few months he had me “feel” his cock several times more and it always ended with him cumming.

After that first time, I said I had to get my rocks off too, so I ended up stroking him off and then myself. He never offered to suck me or asked me to suck him. At the time I know I would have let him suck me if he wished to and I don’t know if I would have gone down on him. He had a golden opportunity, in those days, to help me come out and didn’t. I was dying to come out and he let me down. I’m sure he knew that if I were 100% straight I would never have been willing to touch his cock. Even though that happened well over 50 years ago, I can still remember what his cock looked and felt like.

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In 1963 I had the draft board breathing down my neck and by early 1964 I was faced with either “let them draft me for 2 years” or “enlist for 3 years and have more options.” I selected the 2nd option and signed up to enlist in the Army. Now this was long before DADT. There was a question that confronted me, which was “Do you have or have you ever had homosexual tendencies?” Problem here! I had had a couple of gay experiences, but did not recognize that I probably was gay, so I answered “No.” Like this is 1964, and anyone who was gay was either in the bahis firmaları closet, or lied about it as I did. Who wants to be a queer? Would have been so easy to avoid the draft just by answering “yes”


8 weeks of basic training at Ft. Dix, NJ and then AIT at Aberdeen Proving Grounds, MD and I soon found myself on a Troop Ship headed for Germany. At graduation, at Aberdeen, there were several hundred graduates, and only about 8 were sent to Vietnam. We had other soldiers that also came from Aberdeen during the next month that reported that almost all were being sent to Nam.

Germany was nice, and I loved it there. I got “found out” by another soldier, who introduced me to a few others that were gay. We kinda had our own little club, and it was cool. The soldier that found me out was Spec 4 Harry Alexander. Most everyone called him Alex. He was the first guy to ever suck me off, and the first man I ever sucked off, and swallowed. The way Alex and I did things, there was never a mess! He often would say “C’mon Spence, let me buy you a beer.” That was his way of saying it was time for us to have sex, and it was good.

The biggest regret I have of anything I did while in the army was to not have shared permanent addresses with Alex when I left. He was soon to return to the US and to his home in Texas. I think that what we had was bigger and better than just sex, even though we never kissed or made out.

One (straight) soldier was drunk one night and physically threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t “service” him. I wouldn’t. Even gay guys aren’t ready to have sex with just any guy. I reported him, that started an investigation, and several of the straight guys stated they believed I was gay, even though I had never touched any of them. So I got a “general discharge under honorable conditions.”

In retrospect, I cannot help but wonder, maybe I should have been a slut for him. Maybe I would have been able to complete the whole 3 years!

A Funny story. I had referred to a soldier, who was very nice and well liked, as always being so cheerful and gay. He called me on it. Asked me what I meant. I didn’t realize, at the time, that “gay” was another term for homosexual. No, I did not mean that I thought he was homosexual. It was then that I realized that one of the carnival workers was always asking me if I was gay or just acted that way. So how does one “act” gay? Who knows.

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It’s May of 1965, I’ve been out of the Army now for a month and am starting work as a milkman for a local dairy. Yeah, out at 6 AM delivering milk on customers’ doorsteps,

After several months of working there, Bill, the cheese maker had befriended me. He didn’t have a car but offered to come down one Tuesday evening and bring some beer. It seemed like a good plan, since we were both off on Wednesday and we could sleep in. After splitting a couple of six packs, it was after midnight and he couldn’t get a taxi home, and I was in no shape to drive, we went to bed in my full size bed. Bill was about 20 years my senior, and I was never against sleeping with another guy. I had done it plenty.

After going to bed Bill started to get a little frisky. His hand (accidently?) landed on my cock, and it started to get hard. Then he suddenly grabbed my hand and placed it on his erection. At this point I sat up on the edge of the bed. Bill asked “What’s the matter Doug? Haven’t you ever slept with a man before?” I said I had, but not like this.

The truth of the matter was that Bill was the first I had slept with who was older than myself. I was about 24 or 25 and most of the guys I had slept with were 18-20. I was usually happy if they allowed me to give them head, and never asked anything in return. Bill was about 43, almost 20 years older. I don’t know to this day why I rejected him so quickly. I wished in months afterward that I had not reacted the way I did. I believe in my mind, at the time, that I had not accepted my self for who I really was. Yep, I was straight (I thought) and he was infringing on my manhood!

It was somewhat commonly known that Bill was queer. This was another missed opportunity for someone to help me come out.

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I was still fighting the sexual identity thing and really believing deep down that I was straight, and in 1968 I married. The marriage lasted until 1973, and I fathered 2 sons. Even though they both accept me as gay today, they’re both happy that I did go through the marriage thing. They say if I hadn’t they wouldn’t be. I guess they are right, and I love them both. They are 48 and 45. The oldest never had any kids, and the younger only had a daughter, so the Spencer line ends here.

After the marriage ended, with my sexuality being one of the primary reasons, I became an OTR (Over The Road) truck driver. During the summer of 1973 I picked up a hitchhiker in northern VA that was headed for, if memory serves me correctly, South Carolina. Because of some kaçak iddaa of the questions he was asking me, I suspected he was gay and he admitted he was. I finally admitted to him that I was maybe bi. He was actually going to SC to try and find an old lover, but we both determined that was likely going to end like finding a needle in a haystack. He changed his mind and decided to ride all the way to Orlando, my destination.

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On Friday evening I dropped him off at the truck stop in Orlando, rented a hotel room for us, took the truck to the terminal and got a taxi back to the truck stop as I had a couple of days off. By the time I got back to the hotel room Mel had been busy checking out the nightlife in Orlando. He INFORMED me we were going to hit a couple of gay bars. I told him I’d never been to one and didn’t plan to start now. He won.

We called a taxi and he took us downtown to a gay bar. It was kind of dark, but seemed like most any other bar to me. There were a couple of weirdly dressed women in there and Mel informed me they were in drag and were really men. Then we walked from there to the “private club” called the Diamond Head Lounge. There was a security guard at the bottom of the stairway and he asked us if we were members. Mel grabbed my hand, stated we were and led me up the stairs. He told me he gets the first dance with me. I couldn’t imagine dancing, especially a slow dance, with a guy – but we did dance. On a slow dance he pulled me close, blew lightly in my ear, and all I really remember is two erections happened. I never had experienced an erection when dancing with a woman.

I felt like I had gone to the other side of life. I began to see my closet starting to disintegrate before my eyes. Here I was surrounded by at least 200 faggots. Many more that I ever imagined seeing in one place. Girls dancing with girls I’d seen before, but seeing men, dancing with other men, was different, and somehow awesome. Suddenly, it seemed being gay wasn’t so different after all. I had always thought of gay guys together as just being something sexual. A few of these guys were much more intimate.

That night we returned to the motel and slept together in the full sized bed. We did not kiss or make out, or have sex, as he claimed I wasn’t his type. Saturday morning after breakfast he went on his way and I never saw him again. Actually, at this time, I had yet to kiss another man.

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Another company driver, Chuck, and myself are in the local truck stop in Orlando, FL. It has been arranged by dispatch that he will ride with me from Orlando to Jacksonville. Another driver had abandoned their truck and left it at the Jacksonville Terminal and Chuck was to pick up that truck and deliver the load that was on it.

It is October and my truck is loaded with frozen orange juice destined for delivery to Pittsburgh, PA and Rochester, NY. As Chuck and I are leaving the restaurant area of the truck stop, we passed by a slender, blonde and attractive young man who was looking for a ride. I asked where he was headed and he answered “Gastonia, NC.” I told him I wished I could help him, but our company forbids having riders.

When Chuck and I got to my truck, he looked at me and said, with a kind of knowing grin “You wanted to pick him up, didn’t you.” I answered “yeah, but I know we’re not supposed to.” Chuck then told me he wouldn’t say anything if I wanted to take him (the hitchhiker) with us. I went back and told the young blond guy that maybe I could help him out, and he followed me back to the truck.

The type of tractor we were using had only two seats, one for the driver and one for a passenger. I told the young man he would have to ride in the sleeper compartment until we got to Jacksonville. So he climbed up into it. During the approximately 3 hour ride to Jacksonville we learned what we could. His name was Dave, he was from Mobile, AL and he was hoping to get some roofing work at Gastonia. From what we could gather, his mother was a waitress and his father was a drunken piece of shit.

We pulled into the Jacksonville terminal, I topped off the fuel tanks, Chuck left to get the truck he was picking up, and we hit back onto I-95 North. I explained to Dave that I was not able to actually get him to Gastonia, but I could get him to where I-95 and I-40 crossed. He needed to head west on I-40 to get to Gastonia. He said he appreciated the help I was able to give him.

As I drove through Georgia and into South Carolina Dave finally asked me where I was actually going and I told him I had a stop in Pittsburgh and would empty out in Rochester. He said, in his deep southern drawl, “I ain’t never been further north than Georgia. I bet it’s purty up there this time of year.” I told him it probably was, as this is the time of year the leaves are turning.

I then asked him when he needed to be in Gastonia, and he told me he didn’t really have any particular time to be there. No one knew he was even coming there, kaçak bahis he was just hoping he could find work there. Then I popped the question. “Dave, would you like to stay on with me for a while, all the way up north and back down?” He said he would, but he didn’t have money for food. I told him that if he would help me unload and load the truck, I could afford to feed him. His reply was “Deal!”

I was really curious as to what Dave had hanging. I asked if he wanted a shower and he said he could sure use one. We stopped at a truck stop in one of the Carolinas, to eat and get showers. This was an older truck stop, you paid like a dollar for the wash cloth and towel. The showers were old school, one big stall with about 6 showerheads. I like this type of showers, especially since I really wanted to see Dave naked. So I paid for 2 towels and we headed for the showers. He wasn’t hung really big, actually kinda small, maybe about 4 inches soft. I didn’t really care, it still looked tasty but I wasn’t able to do anything there for two reasons. I didn’t really know where Dave was coming from yet and there was a good chance that another trucker would pop in for a shower at any time.

I hadn’t really thought about it before now. I brought in my small denim travel bag. It carried a couple changes of underwear and socks, and a case that held my toiletries, razor and toothbrush, and soap. I suddenly realized, Dave had nothing other than the clothes he was wearing. No change of clothes, socks, even a toothbrush. I share a lot but not my toothbrush. I asked him if he wanted to brush his teeth and he said he would love to. After we got dried and dressed, I told him to stick around a minute and watch my travel bag for me.

I went out to the truckers’ store and bought a new toothbrush, in a plastic case. When I returned and handed it to him he just beamed. I handed him my toothpaste. “When you finish, just put yours with mine in the bag, ok?” I said. He nodded. I’m realizing at this point, I am taking almost complete responsibility for this young blond. We are going to need to do some shopping in the very near future. Dave HAS to have at least a couple changes of clothes. And we’re heading north in October and he doesn’t even have a jacket.

Someplace along the way, while driving at night, I got so horny and turned on by this young guy. I was wearing shorts and I kinda worked my erection out of the leg of my shorts and was slowly masturbating it, and when I came, I just let my cum squirt onto the floor. It was pretty dark, the only lights inside the cab was from the dash lights. I thought Dave was sleeping, slumped over the doghouse.

A few minutes later I saw him masturbating inside his jeans, so evidently my stroking turned him on. I asked him to stop, and he said “why, you were doing it a few minutes ago, now I need to get off.” I told him I didn’t want his cum to go to waste and I wanted to swallow it. He grinned and said he could wait a few. OMG I wanted him so bad. I soon found an exit, parked on the ramp, and we both went into the sleeper compartment.. Even though I had just gotten off a few minutes before, I was horny but had lost my erection.

I pulled Dave’s pants down and exposed his cock. It wasn’t real big, about 6 inches hard, with a nice diameter, and hard as steel. I buried my face in his bush, surrounding his cock with my mouth and started sucking while Dave moaned, and squealed in ecstasy. He stopped breathing for a minute, his whole body tensed and shuddered and then I felt the whole of his mansmilk shoot into my mouth and it tasted so sweet. The first wave and then a second followed. He then sighed a deep sigh while I sucked the last few drops out. He then went flaccid, and pulled up his pants. We climbed back down to the seats, and I moved the big rig back to the highway and we continued north.

We never slept together. When I needed to sleep, Dave would usually go into the truck stop lounge and watch TV and maybe drink coffee or soda. Then while I was driving he would often fall asleep slumped over the doghouse that was between the seats. We did eat together, as I made sure he was well fed. Sometimes, when I crawled in the sleeper he would crash over the engine cover. When I woke up he would be gone and I always hoped he wasn’t gone far. He usually was watching TV in the lounge.

We finally got to Pittsburgh and it was about 8 PM. I backed the trailer into a receiving dock. The warehouse was closed and I had an appointment to unload at 6 or7 AM the next morning. So we had some time to kill. I locked up the tractor, and we went on foot to try and find someplace good to eat. We found a small Italian restaurant and enjoyed a good dinner. After eating I asked Dave if he was going to need to take a crap before morning and he said he was OK. Next chance would be when the warehouse opened the next morning.

On the way back to the warehouse we passed a convenience store. I asked Dave if he would like some beer and he said he could enjoy one or two, so I bought a 6-pack. Where we were parked for the night there were no bathrooms, but when all you gotta do is piss, it’s just a case of opening the door of the truck and let it go. It was still fairly early, and the unloading appointment wasn’t until 6 or 7 the next morning.

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