Here's what insomnia and a hurricane outside will do for you! I realize how much of the bullshit I write I know is nowhere as important as some of the things I think about to myself, which is why so many of the things I keep in my journal are for myself only, and no one reads them - NO ONE.
Some of that is just for my own peace of mind, some because I'm not brave enough to have it known by all. I have to keep some stuff for myself. This post is the result of feeling that it wouldn't hurt to give a little glimpse into that honesty I keep reserved. Might even help ::shocked look: to know me better, the pretty AND the ugly. Deep down I don't care who knows some of this stuff, but to keep some mystery makes me feel more complete. You should never really know everything about a person, some stuff is just for themselves.
There's a fine line sometimes between what we know is to be kept inside our brains and what - in split seconds, sometimes - goes flashing through long enough to annouce its importance with a huge BANG!
that seems so totally taboo, so "I wound NEVER..."
that the mere thought of someone else hearing it would be your undoing. As I get older, that line becomes more and more weak.
I know that at least part of the reason why I'm fucked-up is because of sex. Don't get me wrong, I'm a grown man and I like myself just fine, so this is not self deprecation. I've admitted to pretty much anyone who asked that in my past I was a complete whore, especially in my teens and going on until my middle twenties. I've learned to embrace that part of me, good - bad - and indifferent and just accept him. Disclaimer:
The remainder of this post is about sex, and some of my own personal experiences. If you don't want to know that much about me, then I suggest you stop...
You dirty little fucker, I knew you'd keep reading. It's okay, I have nothing but respect for that and even more if you leave a screened comment after reading the rest of this shit!
Being very precocious, I was very learned as a teenager about anything I could want to know about. Growing up in the Eighties I was well versed in what was safe sexually, which led me on the other path of all the stuff you could
do that was perfectly fine, if not downright normal considering the changes in how we all felt about sex at that time. I've had an acute awareness of safe sex and proper precautions, having been born in the beginning of the Seventies and growing into life since the advent of AIDS, so I always felt that deep sense of urgency to practice and insist on safety whenever I played. And knowing how not to play opens you up to all of the other ways TO play. I'm not exactly shy, and at times I'm overconfident. When you're a horny, determined teenage boy, that works in your favor - especially when you aren't afraid to ask for you want. Most of the time it helps you GET what you want. And when you have inattentive parents, you have a lot of freetime out in the big, big world.
I was that boy people grew up both resenting and also secretly wanting to be. I was that boy people envied because I knew tons of ways to talk anyone I wanted badly enough into bed, and in a lot of ways that alienated me. The best part of that was that I already knew most people were sheep and were going to think and say what they wanted anyway, so fuck 'em! Do what you want to do, keep it to yourself, and make no apologies for it - ever. And I've pretty much stuck by that notion.
I was a voracious and totally predatory teenager, too. Who really knows why, I have my speculations, but I was always ready at the drop of a hat, and crafty enough to seduce whomever I had designs on. I was very observant in Junior High and High school, I knew how it worked. Everyone felt like I did, some had the balls to do it (The Bad Ones), some had here and there experiences but saved most of it for "The Big Day" (The Good Ones), and some always wanted it but never got it (The Frustrated Ones). The Bad Ones just did what they wanted, but weren't too cool about it, didn't really talk about it, and got it whenever they wanted. The Good Ones got what they needed
, never as much as they wanted
, but nevertheless got by well enough. I have no clue what went on with The Frustrated Ones, that's because I was one of The Bad Ones. Sometimes even one of the REALLY Bad Ones. Which was great, because I had no shame even then and if I wanted to fuck, it was as simple as deciding on it. If you're determined enough, you can make almost anything happen. If you're horny enough, you do make it happen. If you talked too much, no one took you seriously. If you knew what to do to seduce someone, you could take them totally by surprise and MY GOD you wouldn't believe the reactions from people, some of it even I can hardly believe even now.
People you would never suspect.
People you know right now.
People you would want to know.
People who would disgust you on sight.
Girls are nice.
Boys are nicer.
Men are sometimes the best.
Sons of my parent's friends.
Friends of my brothers and sisters.
Adult friends of my parents.
The boy who lived across the street that I went to school with.
The preacher's son. ::evil grin::
The rich and very generous business man.
Several lowcountry boys with such strong bodies, southern accents, and charm that you can't NOT want them.
Soldiers that were so macho you wanted to fucking kick them, but just sexy and just hornily drunk enough
to make it obvious that they could be persuaded.
The hotel doorman that was married and had a kid or two, while he was at work.
Friends of mine. (even some newer ones - if you want to know if I'm talking about you, ask me in private one day, I have no shame and I'll tell you :).
Former friends of mine, that I've seen a lot more of than most have.
The boy who cut my parents grass.
That really unbelievably hot trucker at a rest stop.
Guys in parks.
Guys in bathrooms.
Guys in cars.
Guys from school, even the jocks that EVERYONE wanted.
Guys from bars when I was too young to have even been in there.
Perverts like yourself, whom you meet in all kinds of places - including dirty book stores.
The guy at the amusement park when I was on a family vacation.
The doctor I "played doctor" with.
Paying for it.
Getting paid for it.
Yeah, I said it - I said all of it.
All of this in my teens and twenties.
A whole lot more that I can hardly remember, too. I'm not the least bit ashamed about it, either. There is no reason to be and you waste a lot of energy on that bullshit. It's one of the most liberating things I've ever done for myself, writing and admitting this. Even moreso because I'm putting it out there for anyone who wants to read it, whether you know me or not.
So here it is, that glimmer into my past is now yours. I think it's only fair for you to tell me now. Comments are open, whether you're on my friends list or not - all comments are welcomed.
Who were you? Were you Good, Bad, or Frustrated? Who was it you wanted to be? What about all of it, any of it?
All comments to this entry are to be screened and viewable only to me unless you specify otherwise. Be as downright dirty and honest as you want to be, so knock yourself out. I want to hear it, I'm all eyes and ears. Be as explicit as you want. Tell your friends about this post, link them to it if you want. I wonder how many people will be brave enough to respond...