My Weird Little Sex Life
By The Gargoyle
The following content is absolutely true. I've changed some of the names to safeguard my own anonymity.
AGE 5
I got a thing for feet. Always have. This sounds ridiculous but I think it's got something to do with this: Socks and underwear. As a small child I saw some kind of connection between socks and underwear.
I understood very clearly that the things behind your underwear were private. You weren't supposed to see the things behind other people's underwear nor were you supposed to expose the things beneath your own.
Underwear formed an extra layer between your clothes and your body - between your pants and your really private parts. Socks also formed an extra layer - between your feet and your shoes. So I interpreted that your feet were also private. I think that's the source of the fetish.
I remember in kindergarten - one day in gym class. There was a new kid in our class. He must have just moved to the neighborhood. He didn't have the proper gym attire. Now for crying out loud, we were five years old. How could one not have the proper gym attire? Shorts, T-shirts and sneakers were the standard issue for five-year olds. What the hell else would five-year olds wear to school? Okay so this kid might have been new to the country let alone our kindergarten class. The point is - He had these shiny black shoes that were right out of the question when it came to gym class. Therefor he went barefoot.
Barefoot.
I was stunned. His naked feet slapped against the gym floor as he ran around. He might as well have been running around with no pants or underwear as far as I was concerned. How could he dare expose himself like that? I would have fought to the bloody death before stripping my feet naked in front of a classroom of boys and girls.
At this time in my life I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. I have an uncle only ten years my senior and at that time he was around 15 and had a bedroom in the basement of my grandparents house. I spent many nights in his bed with him, in our pajamas. I remember one night we were horsing around on his bed and for a joke he grabbed my bare foot and stuck my toes in his mouth. Don't get me wrong. He's entirely straight. For him it was strictly a joke but it must have left a mark on me - for me to remember it to this day.
I was already masturbating at this time. I started at four. I guess that's a little precocious. I discovered it by humping a pillow in effort to suppress the urge to pee. For the next 13 years I got off strictly by humping pillows. Oddly I never thought to use my hand til I was 17.
This practice of humping pillows - When I was very young I gave it the name "homework" of all things. Homework was a term I'd heard from my young uncle and aunt and I didn't know what it meant, nor did I know the name for pillow- humping so I just threw the two things together. Seemed sensible enough to a four-or-five-year-old.
One evening in my uncle's bedroom I wanted his attention - probably wanted him to play a game with me. But he, sitting at his desk explained, "I can't. I'm doing my homework."
"Well then I'm gonna do my homework too," I declared and proceeded to climb onto his bed and grind myself silly against his pillow. He just looked at me a little strange and that's when I began to realize that my 'homework' wasn't necessarily fit for public performance.
THREE APPROACHES
The school where I attended kindergarten was quite close to our apartment - separated only by a large park and small wooded area. One evening my friends and I were playing in the park and one by one they were called home. I think there was a rule that I was to go home whenever the last of my friends were called home but this evening I didn't. I decided to hang out alone for a while just to be adventurous.
The sun was setting. I heard a voice calling to me. It came from the dense coniferous trees on the other side of the steel 'frost' fence that bordered the park. I spied a boy - significantly older than myself - wedged between the trees and motioning me to come over. I obeyed - perhaps out of fear. I was generally shy and mistrusting of older boys - assuming they were mostly only interested in beating up younger boys.
I approached cautiously, planning to run like hell if he started to climb the fence. I don't remember how the conversation started but he quickly brought it around to the subject of streaking. I'd never heard the term before. He explained it meant taking off all of one's clothes and running around in public. He claimed he did it all the time and urged me to give it a try - right then and there.
I was not comfortable with this and not at all keen to try. He offered incentives. He explained that there were great rewards for taking off my clothes - chocolate, cash, my very own TV for my bedroom. He said he'd been given all these things in return for stripping naked. I didn't believe him but was afraid to say so. He must have really wanted to see me naked because he tried for the longest time to convince me. I wanted him to leave me alone but was a bit scared to leave without his permission.
It grew dark. We heard my mother calling for me. He did some serious back-pedaling in a hurry. He told me that what streaking really meant was being a good boy and doing what my mother told me. Then he took off.
The next day I told my friend Johnny about the encounter. He wasn't especially bright. At the mention of the chocolate, cash and TV he promptly stripped himself naked and began running laps around the parking lot. His mom showed up all of a sudden and gave him an earful and a whack on the ass. No cash or prizes.
That was the first of three such propositions through my childhood. What can I say? I was a pretty cute kid.
Around the age of eight I met a new friend who's family had just immigrated from England. He became very popular because he had all kinds of toys that none of us had. He had an older brother that we never saw much of but one day he and I found ourselves alone together.
He had a very cool bike - the envy of the neighborhood - basically the early version of the 'motocross' bicycle. He offered to 'double' me on it. I sat in front of him and we rode around the apartment complex for a while, then stopped and sat side by side on the slope of a hill. He asked me what I wanted to do and I had no suggestion. I had no idea why this older boy would take an interest in me. I do now.
He suggested a game I'd never heard of before. He explained that one person would lie on their back while the second person would remove articles of the first person's clothing - one at a time - and have a peak at what lay beneath. I assumed the objective of the first person was to try to stop the second person. Not so, he explained. The first person was supposed to let it happen and simultaneously strip the second person. I didn't show a lot of interest in the idea and so he let it pass.
Would-be molester number three was a little more aggressive. This occurred at about age 11. I met an older fellow who lived across the street and a few doors down. Though we hardly spoke much we would always gravitate towards each other if I was alone, and we would just ride our bikes around together. He never approached when I was with friends. It was a strange association. One day we left the suburban survey where we then lived and found ourselves at a tree-lined creek surrounded by fields of very tall grass. It was a popular place for my friends and I to play but he was a bit too old for that crowd.
We dismounted from our bikes and walked alongside the creek for bit. The boy then told me that he wanted me to go lie down in the tall grass with him and that he wanted to take my clothes off. I said I wouldn't do that. He explained that no one would be able to see us and that he would strip too if that would make me feel more comfortable. I declined. He wouldn't take no for an answer. He threatened to throw my bike into the creek if I would not cooperate.
He tried for a long time to convince me but I wouldn't budge. Finally he marched back to our bikes, took mine and disappeared into the trees. I crept along the opposite side of the creek and spied on him. He found a place where the creek was wide and shallow. He carefully descended the steep bank and placed the bike on a little 'island' of sand. I was much smaller than him and didn't know if I'd be able to get the bike back up that bank on my own.
I sneaked back to where we'd last talked and he met me there. I played dumb and asked for my bike back. He lied. He said it was submerged. I wouldn't find it. He would only relocate it and give it back after I got naked with him. He tried at length but couldn't convince me. Finally he returned to the bike and brought it back to me - safe and sound. He rode away and never approached me again.
AGE 13 - 15
Shortly after this I was moved to a bedroom in the basement of our house. This afforded plenty of privacy and I would stay up very late, often reading books or exploring sexual fantasies. I was still humping pillows at that time and I discovered that the mirror on my antique dresser could swivel up and down if I removed a pin in the back that was holding it in place. I would angle the mirror down, climb on to my bed stark naked, chest down and looking forward at the mirror. I had a nice body - trim and toned. I liked to watch my naked butt (albeit at a sharp angle) as I humped away on the pillow.
I explored fantasies of being accidentally or forcibly exposed to girls. I would take scissors and cut my underwear down to almost nothing. I'd wear only that and incorporate it into my exposure fantasies.
Sometimes I would turn out the lights, open my curtains and sit naked on the deep window sill, parallel to the window with my bare butt and feet on the cool ledge, arms around my knees. There was a streetlight right in front of the house and I knew I was visible from outside, not that anyone would be looking in my direction.
Being a basement room the window was right at ground level. Several nights I got really gutsy and opened the window and climbed outside stark naked. I never went further then our front lawn.
Unfortunately it was a storm window and I couldn't figure out how to re-attach the screen once it was off. Eventually my parents discovered what I'd done to the window and gave me shit for it. I claimed I broke into the house when I'd forgot my key. They re-installed the screen and I never pulled that stunt again.
The street that ran behind our house parallel to our street was at a higher elevation than ours so the lots that backed on to ours were higher, their houses were higher and thus the fence between afforded lots of privacy to their yards and almost none to ours. One afternoon I went into the backyard shirtless to talk to my mom who was sitting in a lounge chair reading a magazine. She glanced at the house behind ours and smiled and said, "Did you know there's a girl staring out the window at you?"
I hadn't known but it was kind of flattering.
An older single woman lived next door and I would cut her grass and sometimes clean her pool. My family was welcomed to use the pool whenever we wanted if she wasn't home. The first time my folks let me use it unattended I got a little adventurous. I untied the string on my bathing suit and began diving into the pool, climbing out and diving over and over again. Each time I dove the suit would be pulled down a bit by the force of hitting the water but I would never adjust it. Eventually it was half way down my hips and my dick and ass were both half-visible.
I wouldn't even look at the windows of the houses behind, not wanting to know for sure if anyone was watching or not. On the next dive the suit came completely off and I continued naked for a while. I was excited and scared at the same time.
My friend Steve Edison was a year younger than me. He was a bit of a pervert and quite likely gay or possibly bisexual. I haven't seen him since high school. He and his brother would have friends over for little skinny dipping parties. His parents consented to these events and would check on us periodically. It was usually his mother who would pop out the back door without warning and she caught many glimpses of myself and other naked adolescents this way. It was kind of funny at the time and didn't concern me that much.
They also hosted many sleepovers. We'd bed down in sleeping bags in the basement rec-room during cold months and in the summer we'd tent it in the back yard. Steve made it clear that the Edison's bed-time ritual must be observed by their guests. When Steve and his brother were ready for bed they would always go downstairs and kiss their mother goodnight. I assume this was usually done in pajamas. But during sleepovers we all slept in our underwear because that was the 'cool' thing to do. So before bed Steve would insist that we all strip to our underwear and parade to the living room or kitchen and present our half-naked selves to his mother for good-night kisses. It seemed harmless enough at the time but in hindsight seems a little suspect, doesn't it?
AGE 16-17
We started hanging out with a group of girls our age and some couples were formed. Two of the girls, Monique and Krista were quite interested in me but I had a pretty good sense by this time that girls weren't exactly my cup of tea - at least - they weren't as interesting to me as boys were.
One evening a friend's parents were out and we were sitting around their kitchen table playing cards. Monique, sitting directly across from me raised her leg and rested her foot on my chair between my legs. In no time she was grinding her toes against my crotch. I let her do it for a while but I wouldn't sleep with her despite her repeated hints.
We boys were skinny dipping at the Edison's one night when we heard the girls show up at the side gate. We all scrambled into our suits and climbed out of the pool to greet them. They were quite brazen, suggesting that we remove our suits and go back to what we were doing. We said we'd skinny dip if they would. They wouldn't but made it quite clear that they'd like to watch us at it. They became quite adamant that we should strip off and 'just pretend they weren't there' but it never happened.
Krista stood next to me and put her arm around my waist. I wasn't interested in her but didn't mind the contact. Her fingers began to wander around my lower back and then down to the waistband of my wet shorts. Eventually she slipped below the waistband and cupped the upper half of my right butt cheek, her fingers almost imperceptibly caressing my ass. That's as far as it went.
Mr. and Mrs. Edison were out of town that weekend. We boys stayed the night. There was some very underage drinking going on and a very cute boy named Kevin ended up in just his underwear and got very friendly and cuddly with everyone - boys and girls alike.
The next morning we were back in the pool when the girls showed up again. We weren't naked but Kevin was still in just his 'tighty whitey' underwear which by this time had become ripped in various places and was soaking wet from the pool. The girls had a hay-day with this, grabbing his undies at every opportunity and shredding them more. He couldn't have cared less and I found it all very arousing. Half his adorable little ass was showing as were his testicles for the most part and occasionally - depending on the angle - his dick. I was praying one of the girls would just rip the damn things off him but no such luck.
I lost touch with Kevin shortly after that and then heard that he had died while still in his teens. Some rare cancer or leukemia or something. He was such a sweet kid. Too sad.
OLD MACDONALD
I was taking a photography class in grade ten and one Saturday I biked up a 200-foot ridge (locally referred to as 'the mountain') and went to a park that offered a grand view of the city. I snapped some pictures and strolled through the flower gardens. I noticed a woman about my mother's age seemed to always be in the area and kept looking at me.
I sat on a bench overlooking the view and looked through the camera, fiddling with the aperture and shutter speed and what not. I sensed someone taking a seat beside me. It was the woman. She started up a conversation. She asked about my interest in photography and school in general. Her name was Marilyn MacDonald (her real name by the way) and she turned out to be a high school teacher but at a different school than mine. She told me how she'd married a farmer's son at an early age and they were still together with two kids - on a farm of their own in a rural community about a half-hour away. Apparently her husband was a little older and had had his eye on her for a while before her parents allowed her to date. She explained that she had never dated or 'been' with anyone but him.
I had a pretty good idea where all this was going and even though I was pretty sure I was gay I wasn't sure if I might be bisexual and wasn't entirely against the idea of finding out.
She confessed that some of her own students had started to catch her eye. This didn't shock me. I had a female math teacher in a class where I sat in the front row. Whenever I wore shorts I would repeatedly catch her looking at my legs.
Marilyn asked if I had a girlfriend and smiled when I said no. She told me that her husband felt bad that as a teenager she had never experienced sex with anyone but him and that he now invited her to do so - but not with a man. He wanted to be her only man but she could have sex with a teenager if she wanted and suggested that she find a virgin to educate in the ways of sex. She said I was cute and asked had I had sex before. She was pleased when I confessed that I hadn't. Was I interested in getting together with her some time, she wanted to know. I said quite possibly, and she gave me her number.
When we'd said good-byes and she left, I watched her walk across the parking lot to the far side and climb into a pick- up truck. I turned back to the view and listened as the truck pulled up to the near side of the lot and parked again. Moments later I felt her hand on my shoulder.
"Do you want to get together now?" she asked. "Will you come home with me?"
I did. On the ride to her farm she assured me that we would be alone. She told me that she'd been looking for a young man for some time and that she'd placed an ad in a newspaper. It garnished just one reply but the 18-year-old had declined at the last moment.
We arrived at the farmhouse and sat in the living room, me on the couch. It didn't take long for things to heat up. She started to undress and I started to do likewise but she asked me to wait. She wanted to do that for me.
In just her bra and panties she came to me and lifted my t-shirt off. I lifted my ass so she could take my shorts down. She removed my socks. I kept hearing creaking noises as she stripped me and I asked her more than once - was she sure we were alone in the house. There was no other vehicle in the lane-way but there was a garage and the door was shut. She assured me more than once that we were alone and next thing I knew her hand was inside my underwear playing with my dick. I marveled at the new sensation.
I thought I should reciprocate so I touched her breasts and she reached behind her to remove her bra. Off came my underwear, then hers. My dick was finally hard. I was hoping she'd suck it but she never did. She lay back on the couch and guided me inside. No condom. It was the wettest damn place I'd ever been. There was just so little friction I wondered how I'd get off. This didn't compare to a pillow at all.
"I'm sorry I'm so wet," she actually said to me.
We went at it for a while. She continually ran her hands along my back and ass which felt good. I just wished there was more friction.
I don't know if it was a sixth sense or what but suddenly I was absolutely positive we were not alone. I pulled out.
"Someone's in the house!" I insisted. She held on to me like she was afraid I'd bolt.
"It's okay," she said. "It's just my husband." I looked around wildly and there he was. I saw his head pulling back behind the corner of the hallway.
"Come out," she told him. "It's okay," she said to me. "He just wants to watch. He won't touch you!"
My dick was softening quickly. This had become awfully weird all of a sudden. Her husband walked over and introduced himself. He knew my name already. He'd been listening to us the whole time. Here I was naked on my knees, straddling his wife on his couch. He shook my hand while his wife was shaking my dick, trying to keep it alive. I was sure I couldn't go on at this point.
He scooped up my clothes from the floor, half-hazardly folding them and placing them on the coffee table. He complimented me on my body and urged us to continue while he took a seat and watched. I realized at this time that his motives were not entirely unselfish. He was clearly getting something out of this.
We rutted some more, working up a good sweat. I got over the creepiness and started to get turned on at the idea of an audience. It took forever to come but I did. She didn't as far as I recall. The husband had taken my shorts and undies in the meantime and they were now in his hands on his lap. I don't know if he'd sniffed them or what.
Marilyn donned her panties and put on MY t-shirt. It was snug on her and I was a little irritated. I wanted to get dressed but they had confiscated everything but my socks. It was strange to be sitting around completely naked with two clothed adults while the wife sat beside me and continued to fondle my body. We talked for a while. The husband repeated many of the things she'd already told me. They'd got their story straight, true or not.
Eventually they surrendered my clothes, watched me dress and drove me back to the park, me sitting between them in the truck. They made me promise to call them but I didn't. I was shocked one day when my mother answered the phone, passed it to me and it was Marilyn. I can only surmise that I had some kind of ID in my shorts and that's how they were able to look up our number.
This pissed me off because now I had to come up with some story when my mother demanded to know who Marilyn was.
They really wanted to hook up again but I never did. That's the only time I've ever had my dick in a woman. I'm 36 now and I sometimes wonder if I've got a 20-year old son or daughter somewhere!
To be continued.