My story started when I was about 6 or 7. I had two brothers and one sister. My little brother and sister were not a part of my earlier memories. My older brother was the focus of my first memory. We lived in a large house made into two apartments. My oldest brother and I shared a small room downstairs. We had bunk beds. I was in the top. I can see my brother "helping" me into the top bunk. He always seemed to push my butt up with his hand.
Fast forward: the next year or so my father cut a hole in the wall of our bedroom and made a passage to the staircase upstairs. My brothers and I would share a Giant bedroom upstairs. There was a double bed and the bunk beds. I was now on the bottom, my little brother on top,and my big brother was in the "Big" bed. I liked sneaking in bed with my big brother. He would hold me and rub me. I liked the feelings he gave me. These are general memories, not one specific occasion. We did this lots of times.
The first real memory I have in that bedroom is laying across my brothers lap. I have my PJs down or off. He is rubbing my butt and tickling my hole. It feels good. I like it. I want more. I see him putting a pencil in my butt. It does not hurt. He makes it feel good. I know this is not something we should be doing so I never tell Mom and Dad. Another memory is of me bending over looking out the window with my brother doing something behind me. I have no PJs on. There is no pain. I like it. I want to do it more. I am alone many times with my big brother in our bedroom. It is our secret. No one knows.
I remember a boy down the street my age. I think we are in 4th grade. I love him. He is strong, he is fast, He is beautiful. We expose ourselves to each other. We rub against each other. This is something you do with some one you love. It was our secret.
Fast forward, I don't see my father much. We don't seem to get along. I never do anything right. I can't play ball good. I'm not big, no one likes me but my big brother. I am afraid of Dad. Mom threatens us with "wait till your father gets home" The belt hurts. Dad gets a new job, my family moves to a new town. I am in 8th grade.
We are in a two story house with stairs in the middle of the house. You can run around the whole house room to room, in a circle. Kitchen, Living room ,dinning,room, over the landing and back into the kitchen. I see D running after me. He wants to hold me down and take my pants of. I am getting bigger now and I know this is not right. I fight, and I run. He catches me. He holds me down and opens my pants. He plays with me till I come. I know this is not right but I like the feeling. He does not hurt me. I want to do it again. We do many times. Sometimes I fight, sometimes I pretend to fight, sometimes I Make myself available to him. It feels good, he does not hurt me. I am friends with a boy who lives behind our house. We camp out in a tent. I really like this boy. We take our clothes off and sleep in a sleeping bag together. We do other things. It all feels good to us. This is what you do with a boy you like.
The next year we move to our new house. The boys all sleep in the same room again. I am still in the bottom bunk. It is easier to get to me a night. This happens when I am sleeping, and sometimes when I am not. It feels good. It is our secret. He likes me. He likes my body. I am still small. I am the last one to be picked for any team. He never calls me names or hits me.
My brother moves out gets married and then moves back in to our house after his divorce. My little brother gets my sisters room. I am still in the big room so D. moves into my room. I sleep real sound. I don't want to hear Mom and Dad Fighting. I don't want to know what is happening to me while I sleep. I wake up a little and he is sucking on me . I pretend to stay asleep. Other times I sleep real sound. One morning I get up to go to the bathroom. I meet my mother in the hall. She says I" caught him at you last night" Then she screams at me, "You are going to be sick". That was that . It was my fault. I did it.
Later when I went to college I built a bedroom in the basement. No one bothered me there.My brother died of cancer when I was 19. No one ever talked to me about what had happened. I found out later he was known in the town for a good blow job. Years later I found out my parents were told he was doing things with boys in the back room of the local pin ball/candy store. This, when we lived in our first house in grade school. He had been arrested for solicitation at a rest stop when I was in H.S. BUT it was ok for him to sleep in the same room with his two little brothers all that time.
I am tired, I think I will stop there. I have been sexualized all my life. If I liked a guy I wanted to have sex with him. Having friends was hard, Walking the line between friends and sex partners has always been difficult.
I have been married to a great woman for 34 years. I have two wonderful kids. Most of this time I have either desired men or Had them. I became a sex addict. I do not drink or do drugs. My wife has stuck with me through all of this. She does not deserve what I have become. I do not deserve what I have become. I wonder if things would have turned out this way If I had a father who hugged me or a brother who didn't. What do you think?
Edited by roadrunner (10/26/08 09:14 AM)
Edit Reason: revisions requested by user