It was during the days of World War II. I was working in defense in San
Diego. The great influx of service men was something to see. I remember
one little tow-headed sailor who spent his time playing on an upright
piano in a service center. He seemed unusually friendly to me, and eventually
I invited him to spend the night at my place.
The evening went smoothly until bedtime. I undressed and invited him to do the same. He replied, "No, I'll just rest on top of the bed." Well, in spite of this show of timidity I rolled over and took him in my arms for a long embrace.
Shortly he jumped out of bed and said, "Something just happened, and I know you will never want to see me again." I laughed with understanding and assured him that the emission that he had just experienced was quite to be expected. After that, relieved he removed his Navy uniform and climbed into bed with me.
The next morning he told me the infatuation with me that had led to his unexpected orgasm. I told him that I understood completely, and would like to share the experience with him again. He became a regular overnight guest when he didn't have the duty. Finally, we mutually agreed that "first love" was what we were experiencing. I had enjoyed sexual encounters many times before, but this time the experience had taken on a new meaning. As deep emotions began to overcome me, my relationship with Herman began to overcome me, and Herman moved to the center of my life.
Like so much in life, though, all did not run smoothly for very long. Herman started mentioning a "Greek god" among his shipmates. Unbelieving that anyone could be as beautiful as he described, I suggested that he bring him along on his next shore leave. He did and it proved to be the undoing of our affair. When I saw Cliff, I saw lights and heard bells. I invited this Greek god to spend the night with us. He agreed. When we got into this double bed, the three of us, Cliff turned to me, grabbed me and held me tightly and began showering me with kisses.
Poor Herman, all he could do was lie there in an agony of rejection. Unnoticed and completely shut out of the happenings. It's a poor excuse I know, but I just couldn't help myself. I was sliding into a wild obsession, and the god was getting my hottest lovemaking. In fact, he told me later that he had never had an experience with a man before. Meanwhile, my lately beloved Herman sank rapidly into the depths of discouragement.
This tall beautiful blond suddenly filled all the dreams that I thought had come true with Herman. Over the phone my new love's "Hello Darlin!" became the highlight of my day. I thought it would last forever, but it too was destined to be short-lived.
Perhaps we could have made our happiness last, but his middle-class, Mid-west upbringing waged war in his heart against the primitive instinct of his natural love for another man. It was a war that he could not win as an untried young man drafted into the relentlessly hetrosexual military world. I have often thought that he disappeared from my life more in an act of sheer desperation rather than defying the will of his heart.
This was my first romantic devastation. I guess I was appealing enough to other men never to have to worry about another coming along, but nevertheless I was plunged into deep and sudden suffering.
All the while my patient Herman waited in the wings, and when my infatuation was over he came forward to comfort me, perhaps hoping to take up where we had left off, but that wasn't to be. It wasn't the same anymore. Finally he shipped out and life went on.