Having trouble telling my story to my wife so I thought I'd write a short version and see if by sharing it here, it can provide the courage I need to share with her.

I looked up to him. He was older. I was only 7 or so. He was a teenager. I wanted to be like him. I wanted to be liked by him. I felt special when he included me in anything ... playing football, watching TV - whatever.

I talked to me about things I didn't understand. Girls and stuff. He removed my pants ... all my clothes. He told me how it made him feel good and asked if I liked it too. I didn't. I couldn't understand. He made me lay down on my stomach. He took his clothes off. He got on top of me and slid something between my legs - between my upper thighs and butt. He went faster and faster and grabbed me tighter and tighter even though I struggled some. Sometimes his penis went between the crack of my butt. I don't recall if he penetrated me. I may be blocking. But the friction of his penis between my legs would rub me raw. Eventually he would ejaculate on me. I would feel his warm semen all over my backside and between my legs.

He would hurriedly tell me to put my clothes on. He seemed angry with me now. He ordered me never to tell anyone. I didn't. I was afraid. My memories are sketchy. It's been over 30 years. I cannot recall how many times he did this to me. I know it was more than once. I remember slightly him bringing another boy. They each took turns and stood watch for the other. I didn't like that at all. I liked him. I wanted to be included. But the other boy I didn't like and he held me down and hurt me.

I cannot say how many times this happened or what else happened. It was so long ago. Just brief memories. A longing to be included. A feeling that this was being included somehow. Not understanding it. And feeling raw afterward. And used. And dirty. And afraid to tell.

Fast forward another 7 years. I'm 15 or 16. I am in High School. I was a "cowboy." I worked on dairies and was involved in "Future Farmers of America" (FFA). I took "Ag classes" at school and liked my teacher, who was also my FFA advisor. He liked me. He knew I didn't like the dairy I worked for and asked if I'd like to work for him on his ranch. I accepted.

Looking back it was classic "grooming" I suppose. Treating me as a friend not a student or employee. Making me feel special. Buying me things (he helped me buy a pick-up truck and put new tires on them). Could he sense that I was lonely and rarely saw my parents? Did he know I was struggling with my faith (I was raised in a Christian home and was questioning belief in God)? Probably.

I would work after school. But many times I would stay over on Fridays so I could work Saturdays. No problem, I'd sleep in the bunkhouse. It was hot in Louisiana. The bunkhouse had no air conditioner. He invited me to his house after work to cool off and have a bite to eat. He came out of the bathroom stark naked and a sheet. He laughed at my shock! He wrapped the sheet around himself as he stood over an air conditioning vent. Said it was a quick way to cool off. He invited me to do the same. Can't remember if I did. I felt awkward. But I was indebted to him by now (owed on truck) and considered him a friend. I laughed it off. I stayed in the spare room of his house that night for the first time.

Though a minor, he asked if I liked beer. Of course! What 16 yr old didn't? We bought a case. It was the day when VCR's were new. Did I want to watch a movie? Some porn? Sure! Never seen it before. We drank more beer. I get out of the "work clothes" and am down to my underwear. I get very drunk. Somehow, he put a mattress on the floor in front of the TV and said I'd be more comfortable watching that way. I was in no mood to disagree - drunk and fascinated by the porn. Suddenly he's behind me. I am already excited by what I'm seeing. He slips a hand into my underwear and begins fondling me. All this is a blur as I write. I'm confused. I like it. I don't like it. It's weird. I'm drunk. I'm that little kid again wanting to be liked included ... act grown up. He masturbates me until I ejaculate. He smiles and I feel sick. I'm pretty sure I threw-up.

I work the rest of the school year and into the summer. All this continues. More grooming. More drinking after work I feel more and more indebted to him. In some ways, actual affection for him? I like being liked. The sexual activity progresses and he also takes photos of me (thankfully, pre-internet ... but am I in magazines somewhere?).

When school starts back, I'm growing to not like this and what I've become. He notices. Feels me slipping. Hints that "friends don't abandon friends" ... promises me more stuff ... even wants to include me in his will (he has heart problems and is close to 60) ... he has no kids ... I'd get it all. I tell him that friendship and work are one thing but I'm not comfortable with the sex any longer. This disturbes him. He manipulates my feelings and twists things I say or don't say. I feel threatened. Will all this come out? I'm miserable. Feel like killing myself - think of it often. So much hurt and shame inside. I can tell no one.

Finally I get the courage to make my break. Nothing is the same ever again. At school, I have to take his class and am still involved in FFA. I see him begin to groom others. I'm ashamed. I say nothing. I'm being replaced. I feel something ... but not sure what.

I enlist in the USAF before I graduate. I want to get far away from there ... him ... memories. I do ... but cannot leave it behind. It's a part of me. It's stained me. It haunts me still.

I'm now 39. Married to a wonderful woman who has stuck with me through thick and thin. I have three great kids. These events had been successfully buried until recent triggering events. First, news from the Michael Jackson trial brought these memories flooding back. And then, at my church we implemented a "Child & Teen Safety" policy to protect kids from predators. I took the training and watched interviews of adults who had been molested as kids, as well as interviews with former molesters. These two events together, really brought it all back. I began to feel depressed. I sought help on the internet. I found "MaleSurvivor.org" and am so thankful.

I will get better.