Topped for the First Time by Fred the Ministerial Student

Davenport, Iowa, December 1979

There are a practically infinite number of bedroom acts you might want to engage in during a date with this guy, but for most gay men, the Big Four are anal top and bottom and oral giving and receiving, or in the terms we used in the 1980s:

French active/passive
Greek active/passive

French was the mainstay.  You didn't even need to ask; you could just assume that any guy you met was up for oral, both giving and receiving.  It's just what you expected to happen in the bedroom.

It's the only major activity that I knew about for 1 1/2 years after figuring "it" out.

Well, where was I supposed to learn about Greek?

There was no gay porn then, at least none that I had access to.

The Joy of Gay Sex had been published but wasn't on the shelves at the Waldenbooks in the Mall.

I had only been with about three guys, and none of them suggested Greek, or even mentioned it.


Then, on December 16, 1979, during my sophomore year in college, Fred the Ministerial Student asked me for a date.  He was 27 years old,  immensely attractive, my height, with an open smiling face, a tight swimmer's build, nice biceps, and an "innie" belly button.

We had dinner in a Chinese restaurant in Davenport and then returned to his tiny two-room apartment, where I tried the "yawn and stretch" maneuver to put my arm around him.

After kissing for awhile, we went into the bedroom, tore our clothes off, and fell onto the bed, where I went down on him.  I was being French passive, although I was doing all the work.

He wasn't quite as big as the guy in this photo, but still a lot bigger than any of the three I had been on before.   I gagged and choked.

"That's ok," Fred said.  "I get that a lot.  It's the curse of the well-hung man."

He pushed me back onto the bed.  I thought he was going to go down on me, making me French active, but instead he threw my legs into the air.  It was uncomfortable, hard to breath with all that weight on my chest.

Hey, what's going on?  What's he doing?

He spat on his hand, rubbed it on his penis, and tried to push it inside me!

The pain was intense!  "Hey, wait!" I yelled.  "What are you doing?"

He pulled out.  "Sorry -- I thought you were a bottom."

"Huh?"

"Are you Greek active?  I figured you were Greek passive."

I had no idea what he was talking about.

"What's Greek?"

"I'll explain later."  He moved into the 69 position.

During our second date, Fred showed me a copy of The Advocate, which had personal ads with code like French p, Greek a/p.  The two main gay activities were French (oral) and Greek (anal).  For each you could be active (inserting) or passive (receiving), or versatile.  You could like both equally, or prefer one.

I was so surprised that gay magazines existed that I barely paid attention to the code.

"So, I know you're French passive.  Are you Greek active or passive?"

"I don't know.  I've never done that Greek thing before."

"Why didn't you say so?"  If you're a virgin, it's easier from the rear.  And I'll lube more, don't worry."

"Couldn't we, like, kiss and stuff?" I asked.

"Oh, no, it's great.  You'll see.  You just have to relax." He fondled my butt.  "Nice!"

When we went into the bedroom and got naked, he turned me over on my stomach.  He took a jar of vaseline from the nightstand, and, I assume, smeared it on his penis.  "Just relax," he repeated.  "I'll take it slow."

And he was inside me again.  It still hurt, but it was tolerable, and it was kind of nice feeling Fred's body push against me.  But then another problem arose -- apparently pressing against the prostate triggered my urination reflex.  I had to go, now!

I pushed Fred off and headed to the bathroom.  Back in the bedroom, Fred said "Yeah, that happens sometimes.  I should have warned you.  Ready to try again?"

We tried again a few more times.  I got used to it, at least enough to allow myself to be talked into it, but I still couldn't see the attraction.  Either you couldn't breathe, or you were facing the wrong way. You couldn't kiss.  It hurt.  It was messy.  It ruined the mood to ask "have you cleaned down there?"

And it was really annoying to hear Fred whisper in my ear "Just relax!" as he tried to drive a baseball bat into my butt.

Through college and grad school, I was asked to be Greek active or passive on occasion.  I usually refused.

By the time I got to West Hollywood, Greek was implicated as a main way to transmit the AIDS virus, and thus extremely rare. Guys rarely requested it.  Between 1985 and 1997, I was Greek passive with only three people, and Greek active with two.

But lately I've noticed a big increase in Greek.  On the Plains, most of my dates throw their legs in the air the second we get into the bedroom.

Is it became I'm older, a "daddy"?
Or are guys in the Straight World less concerned about AIDS?
Or is it just the 2010s?

Go figure.

See also: I learn about oral sex; My second Greek passive experience; Fred hooks up with Ron Reagan Jr.