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Saturday, February 20, 2010


Like most boys I had a couple of little sexual adventures with other boys. When I was seven a boy named Donnie who was a year older than I was sleeping in my bed because his family had just moved from Springfield, Illinois to Merced, so they were staying with us until they could find a house to rent. Donnie talked me into taking my underwear off and told me that the way you made babies was that the man put his thing in a woman’s belly button and peed in it. His parents had a new born baby girl, so I thought he must know, but it still sounded dumb to me. How could babies come from pee? He got on top of me and tried to pee in my navel, but he couldn’t, so he said he had to go to the bathroom then he put his underwear back on and left the room. Little did I know he went into the living room and told my mother the sheets had come off the bed and he wanted her to come in and fix them. Before I knew it both our mothers came in the room and guess who got caught naked under the covers? My mother whipped my naked ass and told me I was a nasty little boy and Donnie had to go sleep in another room. As I lay there in bed feeling embarrassed and humiliated I knew that little bastard had done it on purpose, so I beat him up every time they came over to visit if he so much as looked at my brother or me the wrong way. No one could understand why I beat him up so often.

When we lived in Germany I had reached my full height of five foot eight by the time I was twelve and there was this kid who’d pitched a tent out behind our apartments. He wanted to compare “things” and he wanted me to rub mine against his. We only did it a couple of times and he always told me that mine was as big as his father’s. I didn’t wonder until years later how he knew how big his father’s dick was.

The first real sexual experience I had was when I was fifteen years old and it was the second summer I’d gone to Irving to work for my aunt and uncle. It allowed me to earn enough money to buy my school clothes and that was a big deal to me at the time because I loved to dress nice and I couldn’t have too many clothes. That summer I’d been living in Fayetteville, North Carolina, but I was able to ride back with my aunt, grandmother, and my two cousins when they drove out to visit us.

I would baby sit my cousins while my aunt was at work and clean the house. On certain days I worked with my uncle, who was a fireman on his days off with his lawn care service. He mostly worked on one large apartment complex called “The Beverly Hills Apartments” in the Oak Cliff section of Dallas, off of Davis Street. I thought it was all quite glamorous and I couldn’t wait until I grew up and could live in an apartment where they had a pool and people threw pool parties and cooked out. That was the lifestyle in the sixties and early seventies for hip swingers and I wanted to be just like them. I was very concerned with my looks at the time, and after being chubby most of my life I’d was down to one hundred and thirty pounds. I wore my hair very much like young guys wear it today, combed down across my forehead just above my eyebrows, wire framed glasses, very short cut offs and tank tops. For the very first time in my life I felt like I was good looking and fit in with the other kids in school.

When we worked we got to eat lunch at Norma’s CafĂ©, I can’t believe it’s still there after forty years. My favorite thing to order was a BLT, or a club sandwich with fries. I remember this sour faced waitress we saw all the time and my uncle said, “I’ll bet she wears droopy drawers.” I usually was given certain sections of the lawn to mow and water while my uncle trimmed the hedges, sometimes I wouldn’t see him for hours at a time. I didn’t think much about it then, but later I realized he was probably trimming some ladies hedges in an apartment there at the complex. I liked the work even though it was hot and humid, because I got to be alone and think about the kind of apartment I’d have and what kind of Cadillac I’d drive when I was grown up. Sometimes people could be a real pain in the ass though. They’d call me over and want me to mow a little section near their front door, or water a certain patch of grass. I always did what they asked me to, but I thought they were sure picky for people who lived in an apartment complex. One day a well dressed lady in a silver 1967 Sedan De Ville stopped and asked me directions to some place. I didn’t have a clue as to how to get there, but I sure did enjoy admiring her Cadillac and feeling all that ice cold air coming from her open window.

It was August 5th, 1970, a day I’ll never forget. I was leaning against a fence watering this area of grass and I noticed this man in his late thirties walking by carrying boxes, he appeared to be moving. He would look at me every time he went by and I thought, “What are you looking at?” Then on his fourth or fifth trip he started walking toward me I thought, “Oh hell, what does he want me to do?” He just came over and started talking about the weather. He said, “It sure is hot today isn’t it?” I said, “Yes, I heard on the radio its ninety eight degrees right now and it sure is humid here in Dallas.” He said, “Oh, where are you from?” I said, “Fayetteville, North Carolina.” He said, “Really, do you go to high school there?” “Yes” I said. “What grade are you in?” I said, “I’m going to be a sophomore.” He said, “I bet a good looking guy like you has lots of girlfriends.” “A few.” I said. Then he asked, “Do you date anyone in particular?” I said, “Kelly” as I thought, “What in the hell is this guy doing asking me all these personal questions I don’t know him it’s none of his business.” He told me his name was George and I told him mine was Sammy and he said that he’d had a room mate, but the guy had moved out, so he was moving from a two bedroom to a one bedroom in the same complex. He asked me a few more things and then said, “Would you like to come up to my apartment for a drink?” I said, “No, I don’t drink.” I didn’t in those days. Then after more chit chat, he said, “Would you like to come up to my apartment for a Coke?” I said, “No, my uncle might get mad at me for not watering this grass.” He must’ve thought he was talking to the dumbest kid in the world, I was pretty naive back then.
Finally as he was getting ready to leave he said, “I don’t really have anything in my apartment to drink, but if you’d like to come up and get cooled off you’re certainly welcome.” I told him no and thanked him anyway. As he began to walk away a light went off in my head DING! I suddenly felt even hotter than before and slightly out of breath. I said, “Wait, I’ll come with you!” as I turned the faucet off. I followed him upstairs to his apartment. I didn’t have a clue what was going to happen, but I knew my life was about to change. As we entered his apartment he shut the door and began showing me around. It was a small place, so there wasn’t a lot to show. He had a nice burnt orange swag lamp in the corner of the living room and a little patio off the dining room. Then as he showed me his bedroom he pulled me to him and started kissing me. I’d never had anyone stick their tongue in my mouth before and my left leg began to involuntarily flop like a fish out of water. I didn’t want him to know how nervous I was, so I put my leg down forcefully on the floor to keep it from shaking. We stripped our clothes off and began making out on the bed. He went down on me and then wanted me to go down on him. I’d never done it before, but I just tried to do what he’d done to me. He and I were both sweaty and I was both slightly repulsed and at the same time excited by his slightly sweaty smell. When he ejaculated in my mouth I thought I was going to vomit from the salty taste of it, but I kept thinking, “This is what you’re going to be doing for the rest of your life, so swallow it.” I gagged, but I forced myself to swallow it, then he did me. I couldn’t believe how it felt jacking off was never like that. I hurriedly dressed and he wrote down his name and phone number for me and made me promise to come see him again. I told him I would be leaving the Friday after next and I didn’t know when we would be back again. I went back to watering the lawn and soon my uncle came and got me so we could go home for the day.

When we got home my aunt took my cousin’s and me to North Park Mall. I rode over there in the back of her gold 1969 GTO and sniffed my fingers discretely while Freda Payne sang “Band of Gold” on the radio. His male smell was all over them and I couldn’t get enough of it. That was on a Wednesday and when we went back on Friday George had me come up to his place. After making out for a while and taking our clothes off he laid a towel across the bed and got out a bottle of “Corn Husker’s Lotion”. He lay down on the towel on his stomach, rubbed some of the lotion on his ass, then some on my dick, and wanted me to fuck him. I didn’t know what to do, so he guided me in and I thrust like crazy. When I came I thought my head was going to explode. I didn’t know a man could do that to another man, by that time I was thrilled by all my new discoveries. When I went back downstairs my uncle said he’d been looking for me and I made up some excuse about where I was and what I’d been doing. I don’t think he believed me for a minute and I even thought I saw him look in the direction of George’s apartment, but he didn’t press the issue. I was horrified to find out that we weren’t scheduled to work at the apartment before I had to go back to North Carolina, so all weekend I made myself sick trying to figure out how I was going to see George one more time. I know I called him a couple of times when no one was home and I don’t remember if it was his idea or mine, but I put my star sapphire ring in my pocket then began to whine about taking it off while I was watering some hedges and forgetting it. My uncle said,” Well it’s probably gone by now and I can’t take you back over there until Tuesday anyway.” I kept on until he said he would drive me over there. I don’t think he believed me because instead of helping me look for the ring, he dropped me off and said, “I’ll wait for you at Nora’s.” I got to have sex with George one more time, we only exchanged blow jobs because I was in a hurry, but it was wonderful. I walked over to Nora’s when we were through and proudly held up the ring in my hand with mud on it that I’d “found” in the flower bed.

George and I kept in touch over the years even after my mother became suspicious and asked me how old he was. He’d sent me a photo of himself and I told her he was in college, but the photo showed a handsome dark haired thirty eight year old, so after that I suspect she started reading his letters and throwing them away except for the ones I was able to intercept at the mail box on my way home from school. I always day dreamed about moving in with him when I graduated high school. He was the father figure I was looking for and I just knew we could live happily ever after. The last time I saw him was in February 1978 when I drove from Midland to Dallas to trade my Cadillac Coupe De Ville for a Lincoln Mark V. I stayed at his apartment that night and we had sex, but I was twenty three by then and I suspect George was a “Chicken Queen” and I was too old for him.

I know we spoke on the phone a couple of times over the years and in 1990 when I was living in Dallas I sent him a card inviting him out to dinner to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of my “Coming Out”, but I never heard from him. It seems to me I did some research on the internet years later and found out he died in 1991. I think it was probably from AIDS, but I’ll never know he would only have been fifty nine years old. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see him one more time because I’ll never forget him and my first time.

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