Stroking Men: My Secret Gay Life

By Mark Champion

A never-before heard story of what secretly goes on behind closed doors with American males prowling the internet for sexual hookups with other men.

Mark Champion's shocking memoir details a divorced Christian family man who starts experimenting sexually at age 57. Over the course of six years he slept with over 100 guys, including many married men that were secretly having gay affairs, out gay men that were cheating on their exclusive partners, young promiscuous single hunks with hot bodies, and lonely old widowers that wanted to relive youthful gay experiences.

This raw and blunt life story, that details each man-by-man experience of the author's sexual adventures, will offend some and shock others while uncovering what really goes on between two men both online and behind closed doors in America. The author states startling conclusions about the LGBT community and how Christianity should address gay sexuality. It's unlike anything that has been published before and 100% true.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9780359408511

Book preview

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1. Chapter One – Man #1 Freddy

Of the men’s cocks I’ve touched, Freddy was the only one that was technically not an adult, and that’s because he was the first. As mentioned previously, Fred was a school buddy and I was at a sleepover at his house so we could get up early the next morning to do his paper route together. He was thin, dorky-looking with thick glasses, and not a guy I had ever thought about in any sexual way.

That changed when he crouched down on the floor to crawl in the dark to my bed, placing his hand on my crotch to teach me how to masturbate. He asked me if I had ever jacked off before, and I had no idea what he was talking about. So he showed me, and the feeling was both scary and exciting.

From age 12 to 16, Fred and I would get together every couple of weeks, usually in my bedroom that had a lock on it. At first we just jacked off side-by-side, sometimes stroking each other’s cocks. Fred had a very thin penis that seemed normal to me, but he admired my thicker member and he always ejaculated first.

Soon we got bored with that and started different positions. I remember bringing in photos of different naked women and jacking off to them sitting up. There were times when Fred would lay on my single bed and I’d kneel on the floor looking at his growing pubic hair while jacking his cock. We even tried strip poker and once I tried to trim his pubic hair. But the blowjob attempts were minor, and not once did we kiss or try anything anal. We just didn’t think about it. It was simply two buddies helping each other out.

Most memorable was the week-long summer camp we attended together. Fred and I couldn’t find too many spots to jack off together, so instead we spent a lot of time talking about tits and pussies and sex as we walked deep into the woods. Of course, my cock was hard the whole time and soon I noticed that by the end of every walk I had a big wet spot on the front of my shorts. We would sometimes sneak into the rest room to grab each other’s crotches, but it was my first experience with the precum that occurs from the longing for sexual release.

When we turned 16 we both got jobs at the same place and worked the same shift. So we would start to jack off in the car after work. One night I was driving Fred home and he was playing with my hardon while I was driving, so I pulled over to the side of the street and unzipped. He pulled his dick out too, and soon we were going at it at 10 p.m. in a car along a public street. I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw a cop car approaching, so I freaked out. We covered our private parts and waited for the police officer to slowly drive by wondering what we were doing. We quickly zipped up and headed home.

When Fred suddenly wouldn’t return my phone calls anymore I wondered what was going on, but the day finally came when he showed up at my house for what I thought would be another wonderful session of mutual masturbation, only to be told by him that he had a girlfriend and didn’t need me to help him out any more. I was sad and there was a drop in my self-esteem, knowing that an intimate buddy picked a girl over me, but I got over it and starting dating females myself.

Looking back 50 years later I realize the seeds of my affection for men started with those times in my bedroom with Fred. He was my first, and for a long time my only, means to affection. My parents were not physical in any way so the only good feelings I had in my body in my developing years were from Fred. There was no kissing or hugging or even consoling touches, but sometimes all a guy needs is a bate buddy to help him feel good.

2. Chapter Two – Man #2 Charles

I had no physical contact with men from age 16 to age 57, with one key exception. And that was a surprise. He was my very good church buddy Charles.

The epitome of laid-back southern charm, Charles had never finished college and was happy in a manual labor job. He was a bespectacled redhead who had dated a few women and was loved by all due to his laid-back humor, but he never seemed to keep a serious female relationship. He worked and went to church–that was it.

I had already known Charles over ten years when he started changing. By his mid-30s he was never married, had moved in with a roommate who was very flamboyant, and would disappear at night to drive almost an hour away to the big city where he had become a partier. The homebody Bible study Christian had turned into a club-hopping trendy drinker.

My life was solidly built around my family and Charles was nervous when he called one day in the late 1980s to ask if we could talk. I told him that my wife was working that night and he could come over after the kids went to bed. It was then in the privacy of a darkened living room that he slowly opened up about his secret life of gay clubs, bathhouses, happy ending massages, and sex with men.

I’m sure my jaw dropped as he told a tale that I could not fathom. This guy that had been a boring church kid without a care in the world, and suddenly had found happiness in having a strange man stick a cock in his hole. Charles explained in detail what went on in the bathhouses. He said his massage-giving friend had recently been secretly hired to give a sexual massage to a major straight celebrity (and he named names). And Charles  talked about some dangerous guys he met in the gay clubs.

My reaction was to be supportive of him personally but to ask a lot of questions about the safety of his choices, especially in the AIDS era. He admitted the bathhouses were not safe but that he enjoyed the mystery of strangers blowing their loads inside him. He knew that he should always use a condom, but said it felt much better without one. He said that he didn’t know the names of everyone he hooked up with, but that anonymity was part of the excitement.

But about two hours into our discussion came the real shocker–Charles had always been attracted to me and wondered if I would be willing to experiment with him. Me? The boring family guy with average looks? He reminded me of a time we went to the beach together when I was single and we rented a hotel room on the beach. There he saw me coming out of the shower with my semi-hard dick waving back and forth. He said he was mesmerized and had been thinking about my thick cock often in the decade that followed. He even said that seeing me nude is what got him interested in men.

Well, what is a guy supposed to say to that? I was in my 8th year of marriage, with children and had a pregnant wife who wasn’t much interested in any more sex. And as much as I’d like to say that as a Christian role model with strong moral values I turned him down and encouraged him to change his choices. But I instead turned off the living room lights, sat next to him on the couch, and let him start to undress me.

The first time was awkward. He took the lead obviously and unbuttoned my shirt, started kissing my neck, and eventually tweaked my nipples then planted a kiss on my lips. These were new experiences with a man, and were received with a mixture of titillation and trepidation. And, to be honest, his kisses made me feel like throwing up.

We went back to the master bedroom and tried feeling each other up. I was hard but didn’t feel like cumming. He wanted to cum but saw how freaked out I was and said that we needed to stop to let me think about it.

So that ended the night but there was a second time, only it had him picking me up in a car at night, playing with my crotch while he drove the streets, and us ending up at my office, where we went inside the locked windowless room and started making out. That led to my pants being pulled down, and he started sucking. We were both hard and I was getting used to the times he’d come up for some kissing, but there was something weird about it that I didn’t like. We were two longtime straight Christian friends were suddenly acting like crazed animals in heat.

We finally agreed that it just wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t comfortable with it and I think he was working too hard to get what he normally could have much more easily.

So Charles and I never touched each other again but remained friends, as a matter of fact very good friends. When I moved away we kept in touch and he continued to tell me about his escapades, until one day I got the call I feared would come. He told me he was HIV positive, and had been told there was a chance he’d die of AIDS. From there he went downhill quickly, trying experimental treatments but never regaining his strength. Within two years he was dead and I was honored to be asked to speak at his funeral in front of a community filled with gay men who knew him.

It was a tough crowd though. They stared as I talked passionately about how much he loved his mother and how strong his faith was. No one said anything to me afterwards, and I wondered if Charles had told some of them that the reason he first got interested in men was due to me coming out of the shower in that hotel room many years ago. Or told some of them that he had unsuccessfully tried to hook up with me a few times. And here I was still living a straight life, never publicly admitting my secret experimenting with him–did the funeral goers object that I shouldn’t have been asked by his family to speak?

And even worse–knowing that he said I caused the spark in his male interest, was I to blame for his ultimate death?

Those questions have haunted me for decades. How could I have handled things differently? Is there something I did that triggered his bad choices? Should I have tried harder to physically bond with him instead of pulling away?

While I don’t have answers, I do know that Charles planted seeds inside me that didn’t come to fruition until 20 years later. He was the first man I kissed. He was the first man who gave me a real blowjob. He was the first to rub my crotch in public and tell me that he wanted me. Those were all intense, special feelings for a guy who was living a straight family life. And now he was dead.

3. Chapter Three – Man #3 Dave

It should come as no surprise that after dealing with the AIDS death of my friend Charles that I didn’t even consider meeting with men in the years that followed. It took over two decades for the spark of same-sex desire to be lit, and as I mentioned earlier that came after my wife stopped having sex and I stumbled onto male sites looking to recreate the affection I received in childhood from my jackoff buddy.

But what I found online wasn’t just men that wanted to help each other masturbate! How can one live in the modern era and not know that there are dozens of sites out there where straight married men live double lives searching for guys to have full-on sex with? I’d heard of guys hooking up on Craigslist, but I thought those were just out gay men and had never looked there to see what they were doing. It wasn’t until I stumbled  onto sites like SilverDaddies, Adam4Adam, ManHunt, and others that I discovered full-faced photos of married men talking about their cock size, showing off their holes, and discussing in detail their top or bottom preferences.

Then after almost two years of my wife refusing to have sex with me after she moved to another bedroom, I decided to jump in and post a profile, just without a face picture in order to remain discreet. It was then the nice guy 1000 miles away helped set me straight by rewriting my profile, telling me how to take decent body shots, and clicking the safe sex boxes. I finally got a bite from an older gentleman who liked my pictures. He said he was 60, while I was 57. Dave had recently retired as the superintendent of one of the largest school systems in the country, had a wife who was institutionalized due to health issues, and he wrote a long sob story about how he was longing for affection. He convinced me that he had barely any experience with men and lived alone so we could have a safe meeting. Dave said all the right things to make naive me trust him.

I was extremely nervous when the day came, for this would be the first time I had ever met with a stranger for sexual purposes. I parked about a half block from his house, fearing being seen even though I was in a neighborhood many miles from my home! I approached the door sheepishly, and when he answered the doorbell he was tall, broad-shouldered, strong, and gave me a large calming hug. He knew I was a rookie, and seemed to take pleasure in helping to initiate me in M2M sex.

The main things remember about my first time truly having a sexual encounter with another adult man are what I saw and smelled. His antique furniture, the candle, a giant TV in his bedroom, the hot room with the ceiling fan going, and his anti-bacterial wipes on the sink in the bathroom that he used to clean off his cock before we got in bed together! Maybe that last part should have been a red flag!

Dave was cuddly and affectionate but a bottom and wanted me to play with things I had never played with before. Touching his asshole? Was he serious?  Sucking his balls? You mean put them completely in my mouth? These were foreign concepts to me, while Dave acted like it was totally natural.

Then the oddest thing happened–he revealed that he couldn’t get hard due to his age, but that he could still ejaculate if I gave him a long enough blowjob. What did he mean his age? I said he was young to have erectile issues, and he said that 66 is normal for that to happen. Did he say 66? This was the guy whose profile claimed he was 60.

I was able to suck him to the point of him ejaculating, though it looked odd to see it come out of a limp penis. I did not ejaculate and he didn’t really try too hard to do much to me, but in the afterglow Dave wanted to lay on my chest and talk. It was then he opened up about his past, where he would travel the country secretly visiting gay bars, taking strange men to his hotel rooms, bedding anybody that was willing. This was the guy that claimed ahead of time hat he didn’t have much experience!

What I quickly learned was that you can’t trust what a guy says before you meet. Dave had just plain lied to me about multiple things–and that, in turn, could put me in danger with health risks. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, walking quickly to my car and noticing a neighbor looking at me like she knew exactly what Dave and I had just been doing. I talked out loud to myself the whole drive home, telling myself how stupid I was for trusting a stranger and saying I’d never do it again.

Which, of course, are the famous last words of an addict. Can a supposedly intelligent guy become addicted to sex with another man after just one experience?

I didn’t know it, but I was already hooked on male physical affection. I tried ignoring him for four or five days, but soon the urge came back and I responded to his emails. Within ten days I was back at Dave’s house to experience the antiques and heat and ceiling fan and limp cock–all so that I could get that great time of cuddling together where he opened up and talked. After ejaculating he would ramble on about politics (he’s a very liberal Democrat) and Catholicism (he was raised in it but didn’t practice much anymore) and housing prices and his wife’s health and everything other than sex. He almost never asking anything about me and never did he try to help me get off. It was just enough affectionate attention to keep me coming back after a week or so of swearing I was done with him.

We met five times over about two months, and every meeting was pretty much the same. I was glad when I got the chance to move away, because even though spending time in Dave’s bed was appreciated, it was not what I was expecting and I hoped a new town would give me a chance to find a real sexual relationship with a less dangerous man who I could trust to tell the truth. Now that I was a little bit experienced, I knew I wouldn’t be tricked again. Right?

4. Chapter Four – Man #4 Deacon

It didn’t take long for me to get a bite in my new town. A redesigned and more confident  profile had plenty of interest, and right away I heard from an older minister I’ll call Deacon. For a man with a very public position, he certainly had no problem being very open with me about himself. He suggested we Skype first, so I got a chance to talk with him face-to-face online, and grew to trust