My Heart Goes Out...

I've lived in the Houston area... Many years ago.

I worked in an office building where I could see Buffalo Bayou...

I've seen Buffalo Bayou flood... When a normally placid, 20-foot-wide stream turns into a ravaging torrent of brown destruction...

I've driven past the Addicks and Barker flood control reservoirs...

I have lots of friends in Texas, even today. They're safe and safely evacuated.

My heart and prayers are with you Houston.

Why am I NOT surprised to see Texans helping Texans? I don't think you'd see that outpouring of neighbor helping neighbor anywhere on either coast. But in America's heartland? I can't see anything else in America's heartland.

Texas strong!

Fast Forward

Now I understand...  I understand what all bloggers go through. You start this blogging thing with all the best intentions of posting every day (or nearly so). But then after a firecracker start, life just gets in the way and it gets harder and harder. You find yourself saying "I'll just wait until tomorrow..." And the first couple of times you say it, you really mean it and you actually DO post something a day or two later. But then you find yourself slipping.

Yep. I could easily see that happening to me.

So I graduated, and a few years later "J" graduated as well. I was out in California when she graduated, she was still on the east coast. A long distance relationship if there ever was one. But somehow it seemed to work. We were in love, and we were very passionate in that love. She taught me everything I knew about sex.

The she moved down to Georgia for a few months, and got a DUI. I showed up in time to go to court with her, and while the judge didn't exactly "throw the book" at her, he definitely read her the riot act. It was about 4 months after that when we got married at the school we both went to, and then moved back to the west coast where I was already living.

Everything was great. Or so I thought....

Dum De Dum Dum....

And I hope to decipher that ominous music in my NEXT post...

And perhaps some pictures as well.

I'm Baaaaccccckkk!

Senior year...

Where to begin...

Top of the heap. Life is good. Life, in fact, is great.

"J" and I were roomies again. We partied hard. We drank incredibly. I evolved from beer to gin and tonic. Cheap gin and tonic. Happy hour for me was a weekly occurrence, and I spent much of every weekend in a drunken stupor. Then ran like a mad dog during the week to flush all the alcohol out of my system. I lived life like there was no tomorrow. I studied hard during the week.

I made it through. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel and - lo and behold - it wasn't the train coming the other way. I recovered from my broken leg and gradually got my life back in order.

I was about halfway through my senior year when I truly got to know the female "J" who was to change my life... Whenever I refer to "J" now, I'm referring to her.

I first MET "J" when senior year began. I'd say that it was love at first sight, but it wasn't. Not at all. I was a senior, she was a freshman. She lived 2 floors above me. Dark brown, relatively short hair, about 5'4" tall, with a round face and a bit of weight. She wasn't thin by any stretch of the imagination. Not fat at all, just "solid." But her smile and attitude were magnetic and I felt myself being drawn to her. Slowly, of so slowly.

It was somewhere around the beginning of my second semester of my senior year that one of "J"'s friends invited me to a party. Interesting party. I think almost all of the women there were lesbians. Not all, just... Almost all... "J" was there too. Her friend invited me because - I think - she had a crush on me. I felt nothing for her though. So I went to the party and drank beer with a bunch of women (who outnumbered the males by probably two to one), and had a good time.

On a whim, and completely out of character for me, I took a chance and asked "J" to come sit down with me. Miracle of miracles, she agreed. We sat on a sofa in a darkened living room, drank beer, and talked. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I put my arm around her. No resistance. I kissed her... No resistance. In fact, I thought I felt her reciprocating. Encouraged, I got a bit more aggressive with my making out... All indications were very, very positive.

I asked her if she had a boyfriend... She said yes...

I told her that I wanted to be her boyfriend... She said that she would break up with her current boyfriend...

We continued to make out. It was surreal for me... Magical almost...

Our relationship grew quickly. I'd liken it to flare. One moment it's not lit, the next it's burning furiously. But it was only making out for a long, long time. Months. I think I was frustrated, but the problem wasn't HER, it was me. I was too afraid to take that next step. I had gone from nothing to first base to second base almost overnight. But I couldn't get to third... For months.

Then it happened...

No, it wasn't sex. It was another accident. Not a major-injury-inducing one, and I was by myself in the car, but it DID total my car. And man did it piss me off. Guy ran a red and T-boned me a month and a half before graduation. Totalled my car... TOTALLED MY CAR! AARRRRRGGGGHHHHH. Note that I said that it wasn't major-injury-inducing. But I was concussed. And THAT's what led to my having sex for the very first time. That's how I popped my cherry. Second semester of my senior year of college.

So after taking care of all the police and insurance stuff, I made my way back to the dorm. Got in touch with "J" and told her what had happened. Of course my brain was still fuzzy. Her roomie was there, as was mine, so she told me to meet her in one of her friends' rooms. Both her friend and her friend's roomie were away. So we showed up at her friend's room, and she held me and kissed me... We ended up on one of the beds, and she began undressing me, then herself. She continued kissing me and telling me she loved me. She positioned me on my back and straddled me. I was hard... I was excited... I was completely caught up in the moment. She reached down and took me in her hand, then guided me into her and sank down on me. I remember that she just stayed like that for a moment... Completely motionless. Straddling me, me inside her, and her leaning forward so she could kiss me. I remember thinking to myself how warm she felt. How good she felt. How safe I felt.

And then she started moving. Slowly. Cautiously. And about 10 seconds later, I squirted. I remember that feeling. So incredible.

That event broke the dam. We were like bunnies. We had sex everywhere. And I do mean EVERYWHERE. She introduced me to the marvelous mysteries of oral sex... MMmmmm Gooooddddd! No kidding, we "did it" about everywhere you could imagine. Car? Yep - of course. Hotel rooms? Yep. A closet next to the reception area in the main reception area? Of course! I went from no sex to being a sex-crazed maniac literally overnight. Life was GREAT!


And then the magical day... I graduated.

Going Away for a Couple of Weeks

Hi all. Just to let you all know that I'll be offline for a couple of weeks while I'm away on a business trip to a place where blogs like this are blocked... Really!

I should be back before the end of August.

I Begin to Come Out of My Shell

So where to begin...

My sophomore year at college was an interesting one. Academically, it felt a lot easier than my freshman year. I finally felt that I could just breathe. I was about 300 miles from home, and really didn't get home very much. Didn't have my own car at the time, so getting around was via the "shoe leather express." I continued to run a lot, both for the fitness aspects of it, but also because it gave me the opportunity to just be a vegetable. For some people, running is like Hell on Earth. For me, running was something completely different. Something completely enjoyable and relaxing. The very idea of going out for a multi-hour run was an incredible high for me. I would just throw on my running clothes, head out, set a pace, and keep going... and going... and going... Even today, the memory of doing that is a very pleasant one. I averaged more than an hour and a half of running each day, which meant somewhere around 12 miles or so.

Socially, I slowly began to break out of my shell. I had a cousin "D" who lived nearby, and I occasionally went over to her house. She and I were about the same age, and her dad was related somehow to my father. So we definitely weren't first cousins, just "cousins" if that makes sense. In any case, nothing ever romantic between us, but she did set me up with a friend of hers "J", because "J" needed a date for HER HS senior prom and I was available. Again, in the "friend zone" but I didn't really mind. I was just starting to come out of my social shell, and didn't want to jeopardize things with my cousin, so I was a proper gentleman when I was with "J."

"D" was somewhat of a wild child, but not hugely so. She ended up going to a junior college about 50 miles away, and we drifted apart. Haven't heard from her since I graduated, and occasionally wonder what ever happened to her.

My junior year at college gave me my first real exposure to real life I guess. Remember how I didn't really get along with my original roommates? About halfway through my sophomore year, I ended up rooming with a guy who was about 4 years older than me (another "J"). Nothing unusual there, he just started college a bit later than the rest of us. A hard-bitten, crude guy who (in our junior year) would get really frustrated with his courses and end up throwing his books against the wall. An interesting person to say the least, "J" educated me a lot about life. I guess he was like the big brother I needed as opposed to the one I had. "J" and I were complete opposites from a personality standpoint, but somehow we always got along. But one thing I remember about "J" was that he was hung like a horse...

So back to my junior year... Alcohol... Ahhhh. The miracle of alcohol... In the form of beer... Lots and lots of beer. Bathtubs of beer... Fortunately I was still running as much as I ever did, of all that beer would have probably killed me. I ran a lot. I ran a lot of road races. I ate like a hog. I drank like the proverbial fish. My roomie and I partied like there was no tomorrow. We ("J", me, and a couple other friends) spent a lot of time in C&W bars, where you could just go in order a couple pitchers, and chill out. Maybe play a little pool, or maybe some shuffleboard. But never far away from a beer.

It was through another one of our friends that I got introduced to "M," a co-ed at the local state college. "M" was a slightly chunky, short-haired blonde with a huge case of attitude. We got along immediately. While I never popped my cherry with "M", I can honestly say she taught me a lot about male-female interactions. It was during my junior year that I first encountered my majors courses (engineering, remember?) and really had to hit the books a lot. Unfortunately that hurt me where "M" was concerned. She wanted a lot more time with me, but (while not being dumb as a rock) I couldn't give her that time because my calendar was pretty full already. School and grades were my number one priority.

It was during the second semester of my junior year that I got my first car. Oh man... That was great. Not a pussymobile at all. A somewhat sensible, used sedan that I bought with 66,000 miles on it at a time when 66,000 miles was considered a lot of miles. But it ran, it ran well, and it served me very well until I got liquored-up and crashed it a couple of years later. DAMN... It was a great car... But with my own car, a lot more drinking opportunities opened up for me.

The highlight of my junior year was something bad. Really, really bad. I went home for Christmas break and was spending a nice vacation with my folks. My brother wasn't there for some reason, I don't even remember why. So I was home, and was using one of my folks' cars to get around (I didn't have my own car yet). It was December 30, and I was out at a bar. Of course I got liquored up. Severely liquored up. Of course I got behind the wheel. I was young. I was bulletproof. Nothing was going to happen, right? It was December 30, it was cold. Roads were icy in spots. Of course you know what happened next...

I remember to this day waking up and noticing something wrong. There was no car in front of me, but I was still sitting in the car seat. I don't remember the impact. Somebody who lived nearby called the police and ambulance, and I was taken to the hospital. I had to spend several hours lying on a gurney drying out before they could take me into surgery. I really didn't know how bad it was until the next day, when I learned about the major, compound fracture to my leg, the reconstruction of my leg, and how close I had come to having my leg torn completely off below the knee when I snapped the car in half around the telephone pole... My mom took pictures and showed them to me. Picture a giant knife slicing the car in half from side to side, right where the engine firewall is... The front end of the car was about 50 feet away from the back half of the car. I was still in the back half. When the front half sheared away, it tried to take my legs with it...

10 weeks in a cast. 16 weeks on crutches. Months more before I could walk normally. Even months more after that before I could run again, and close to a year later before I could run again, pain-free.

Was it an eye opener for me? You betcha! Did I continue to get liquored up and drive? Of course I did. For about another 6 or 7 years before I finally grew up. I think I drank so much because of my insecurity. But eventually I grew out of it. Thank God... Or I'd be dead right now.

Interestingly, I never did get a DUI charge. Maybe the cops thought I had "paid the bill" enough already.

Opening a New Chapter

I graduated from high school (no, I won't even tell you what year it was). I will say that I graduated 11th in my class. Most of the kids who graduated higher than I did hadn't taken nearly as many courses as I did. In fact, during high school, I filled every available class period with something... Usually something "difficult." Why did I do that? Well, at the time it seemed like the thing to do, and it's not like I really had a social life. I went to school, I went to practice, and I went home and chilled, usually with a book in my hand. I don't even think I watched too much television. Although I had a pretty good friend who was really high on the Johnny Carson show... I didn't even watch sports because they didn't really interest me.

So I graduated...

And went off to college. My older brother went to a school that was only about 60 miles away from home. Me? I went to a place about 300 miles from home. I started with 2 roommates (assigned), but really didn't get along with them. Decided that I wanted a technical major (engineering) and began taking all the required freshman courses. Didn't make any intercollegiate teams for sports. So really I just kept my head down and tried to stay out of trouble. This was at a time when you could legally drink at 18  in most places, and I didn't really drink before college (although my parents thought nothing about opening a bottle of wine at the dinner table and allowing me a glass or two). So I was introduced to the mysteries of beer... Lots of beer... But I don't think I ever really got snot lockered... At least during my first two years of college. That came later...

Notice that in my story so far, I haven't talked about that first romp in the back of the Buick or anything like that. I haven't talked about fingering a girl's quim or feeling her up... I didn't talk about that because it didn't happen. In contrast to many, if not most of my peers, I was still an inexperienced virgin. Not necessarily out of a lack of desire, rather it was due to that pesky fear of rejection. Oh yeah, I got  along with everyone in a "group setting" but when it came to one-on-one? Failure every time. Did I masturbate? Nope. Given the very sheltered and somewhat solitary life I lived, it never occurred to me. It was only when I got to college and was exposed to a bunch of much more "crude" males that I began to figure things out...

But one thing that's important about my entry into college was the reinforcement of something that I first noticed in the showers when I was cleaning up after my high school practices... I was smaller than virtually all... if not all... of my male peers. Simply put, I first noticed in high school and really noticed when I got to college that I was a shrimp dick...

And in my next installment, I think I'll recount year 2 and 3 of college where I began engaging more with the tender gender... And some of my failures along the way.

A High School Rite of Passage

In high school I didn't date at all during my first three years, and I dated only a little my senior year. Oh, the guys on my cross country team and my track team "hung out" with a group of girls who (for the most part) were also into high school athletics. But until my senior year, I never contemplated asking one of them out for a solo date. One thing I remember about myself at that time is that I was absolutely terrified of rejection. The thought of me asking a girl out and of her saying thanks but no thanks petrified me... Turned my knees to jello...

So I guess I compensated by trying to be nice to everyone. And I think I was. Along with being "confrontation averse." Avoiding confrontation is a big part of my personality - albeit a secret part - even today.

Finally, during my senior year in high school, an external event forced my hand... Prom... Growing up in the era that I was growing up in, it was unheard of for a guy to NOT ask a girl to go to prom... And to ask over and over again until you got an acceptance.

So I screwed up my courage and asked "G"... One of the girls I secretly pined over. I didn't know until later that another one of my classmates was also thinking of asking "G" to prom. She was two years behind me and (to my mind) an incredible beauty. Smart, outgoing, athletic, as tall as me, dark haired... In short, for a guy like me a wet dream.

And she said YES!

I was over the moon...

I spent a lot of time trying to make everything perfect for us as I got ready for prom...

For me, going to prom was rather anticlimactic. I picked up "G" and we had the requisite pictures taken both at her parents' house and at mine. Then we were off to the event. Standard rubber chicken dinner. Lots of songs spun by the DJ in a ballroom that (now, years after the fact) is evoked every time I think of the movie "Footloose." Being somewhat of a dweeb who had never done something like this before, I had no idea how to "dance" but somehow muddled through. I am absolutely positive that she thought of me as being in the "friend zone" and therefore "safe."

The night ended on a quiet note... No, I didn't even get to first base with her, to my disappointment. We remained friends after prom, but drifted apart. I still have the prom picture - this acne-faced kid with a shit-eating grin on his face, standing with Aphrodite... To this day, I think of her and I cannot help but wish her every joy and happiness. For just a short time, she gave them to me - at a time when I needed them so much.

High School Years

High school was an interesting time for me. I would say that I was a geek, but that wouldn't really be true. Yes, I got phenomenally good grades, but it wasn't because I ever studied. I took every advanced course that was offered, and just seemed to do well in all of them. I do remember doing the homework that was assigned, but other than that I just paid attention in class, stuck my hand in the air from time to time, and "participated." And the grades just came. I don't think I ever worried about grades, in fact I don't think I ever even consciously thought of them.

So high school academics weren't anything challenging at all.

But I also took part in high school athletics, running cross country and track. Most enjoyable for me, but as I reflect back on the sports I enjoyed they weren't team sports. They were sports where individual effort was what mattered. I didn't pay attention to the "big" sports like football or basketball - and even to this day they hold no appeal for me. Just not interested. I was a little bit smaller than average for high school, and really didn't even "catch up" size wise until I was well into college.

After school and my practices, I would usually just head either to the library or home. I didn't "hang out" with any of the cliques in the school, although I seemed to get along with them. I guess you could call me "happy go lucky" in my demeanor. I remember that I used to go for drives around town during my last couple of years in high school. Small town, lots of back roads but nothing really "out in the sticks." Just winding country roads in suburbia.

I was generally a loner and didn't see anything wrong with that at all.

A Jumble of Memories

Moved a lot when I was young. Never really lived in one place long enough to make any close friends either in school or out of school. I remember getting really excited when the Sears catalog arrived (I don't remember how often it came in the mail, just that it did). Of course when I was little, I remember studying the toy section like a biblical historian studying the Dead Sea scrolls. It was several years later that I remembered looking through the women's lingerie section as well... And getting excited... Well, as excited as someone my age could get excited. I don't remember ever seeing a Playboy magazine when I was growing up, at least until much later. I remember a solid, patriarchal family... Very "nuclear" in its structure and interactions. But I also remember that my mother was very self sufficient and strong. I remember some real knock-down-drag-out arguments between my father and mother, but at the end of the day, I had absolutely no doubt that my parents loved each other beyond belief and would crawl through fire, broken glass, and razor blades for each other. My mother was much more "cosmopolitan" while my father was much more "country." I never doubted that they loved my older brother and me very much and that they always pushed us to be self sufficient, self-aware, and emotionally strong. I remember being in many fights with my brother. But I also remember him picking me up and carrying me home when I got hit by a car one time... As I got older I came to realize how much I loved and respected him, even if he was often a pain in the ass so many times! I think he was one of the most intellectually gifted and naturally curious people I've ever known.

How Long Have I...

How long have I been a sissy? All my life I guess.
How long have I known that I'm a sissy? Ah. A far more challenging question. Not nearly so long.

All my life, I've been a bit different.

Oh, don't get me wrong. As a kid, I did all the kinds of things that the other kids did. I camped, I took part in high school sports and summer sports, I went to the library and read. I rode my bike. I played in the sandbox with the other kids. I played a LOT with my Legos! I played with model trains and did basic woodworking - to this day I can build a mean birdhouse! I did LOTS of things that the other male kids did. I can't say I really got picked on for being small, or "puny" or anything of the sort. In many ways, I guess you could say I was as average as average can be.

But inside, I always knew I was "different."

I've never blogged before...

But an online acquaintance suggested that I begin blogging to tell my story. And what a story it is... Perhaps not as "interesting" as that of my online acquaintance, but interesting to me at least. To my online acquaintance, I won't share even your online handle without your explicit permission. But if you come across this blog, you'll know who you are, and I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have helped to free me.

As for you, the people who may come across this blog and actually read it, I hope you enjoy my story. I don't think I'll be able to tell it overnight, and even the words I choose will have to be very circumspect in some cases because - like my online acquaintance - I will do everything to remain anonymous.