SummerFire, AutumnRain:

One Boy's Story

The Introduction


You can call me Danny. I'm a fairly typical guy in many ways, I think - white middle-class American male, somewhere around 40 years old, married with kids, mow the lawn on weekends, go to the beach in summer...... you get the idea. :) I'm basically outgoing and make friends easily, and people tell me I'm a nice guy. Those people have obviously never seen me before my first cup of coffee in the morning, however. :)

Typical guy. Maybe.
I did not, however, have a typical childhood. And that's what this is all about.

This site is an autobiography of my boyhood, focusing on my sexual relationships with other boys. I guess you could call it my "sexual autobiography." I'm not happy with that label, mainly because it just sounds sleazy. But I don't have a better term at the moment. And in any case, the defining characteristic here is my sexuality. Sex wasn't all I thought about as a kid, but it was a Very Big Deal to me.

I was interested in sex as far back into childhood as I remember - and from the very beginning, I knew I liked both boys and girls. I wouldn't necessarily say that I was more interested in boys than girls before age 16 - but I was definitely more active with boys than girls. I think that's partly because I really liked boy-sex back then, and partly because boys were more willing to experiment.

I began trying to have sex with boys around age 8; came very close at age 9; and finally succeeded at age 10. I was interested in girls too, but didn't have sex with a girl until age 14. I had sex (which I'll define as BJs or more) with many boys before I quit. I don't know how many, but it was somewhere between 30 and 50. That seems like alot, but maybe I've led a sheltered life. :) I deliberately stopped having sex with boys at 16 years old, and abruptly went into deep denial at that point. The narratives on this site mostly fit within the above timespan. There's more to my life from 16 onward, of course; but it's kind of ordinary. :)

How do I feel about all that now, over 25 years later? It depends.
Some days I think it was awesome - fantastic - for me and for my young friends.
Some days I look at myself in the mirror and see a former predator.
I don't know how to reconcile the two. Maybe I never will.

So Who's This Danny Guy, Anyways?

I told you a few details above, and I include some additional info on my Background & Summary page. I'm going to be obscure about saying much more than that, for obvious reasons. I'm not overly concerned about legal issues. I'm not involved in any sexual relationships with anyone except my wife, and I haven't been sexually involved with anyone under the age of consent since I was that age myself, over 20 years ago - and I never will again. But I recognize that this is controversial material, and there are alot of folks out there who would probably love to harass me if they knew who I am. And there's the possibility that some will consider this pornography, despite my vehement objections. So, forgive me if I'm vague about who and where I am.

Along the same lines, I will state up front that not all the details in these narratives are true. I've changed locations and other identifying details. (I hope it goes without saying that all the names are fictitious, but I'll say it anyway for the record.) The core-incidents are essentially accurate, but I shifted details around, altered sequences, and occasionally made up some things that would be too revealing if reported truthfully. So if you want to play Clue Master and try to discover my identity by fitting pieces together, don't waste your time. Anyway, "Clue" (the board game) is alot more fun. :)

My Orientation

Well... lessee... right now, I'm facing south, I think. :)

Okay, fair question. I don't like labels. Nobody likes labels, when it comes to describing themselves (but it's very handy for describing other people, huh? :)) I'll swallow that objection for the moment, and say that I guess it depends on whether you're talking about the past and/or the present. I don't think a person's sexual orientation is fixed for life. I don't think it's a choice, either (and I'm offended by the "Christian ex-gay" movement for that reason, among many others); but I think you can slide up and down the Kinsey scale over the course of a lifetime. That's been my experience, at least. (The Kinsey scale, for those who may not know, is a way to measure the degree to which a person is homosexual or heterosexual. It ranges from zero to six, as I recall, with zero being exclusively heterosexual and six exclusively homosexual. I think it's oversimplistic, but it's a useful beginning-point.)

Currently I prefer women, and have since I was around 16 years old. For a while I wrestled with whether that preference was genuine or whether perhaps I was living in perpetual denial - but I've come to believe it's genuine. I've rarely if ever had any interest in adult males. I was interested in other boys when I was a boy, obviously. In terms of past behavior I was definitely bisexual; from ages 9-10 through 15, it's fair to say I was mostly homosexual. I'm not interested in boys now, sexually (although I went through a period of major confusion over that issue, not long ago.) I'm completely uninterested in pre-teenage girls, and always have been. Like the majority of heterosexual males, I find older teenage girls pretty damn sexy, and I'm politically incorrect enough to say so. :)

In terms of behavior nowadays, I'm more vanilla than vanilla. I haven't had sex with another boy since I was 16 years old. With one exception at age 21, I've never had sex with an adult man. I haven't been sexually active with anyone except my wife since we got married, when I was 25. And my idea of a wild, exotic sexual experience nowadays is leaving the lights on. Yawn. :)

In case you're wondering (and you should be wondering), let me repeat what I said above: Nope, I'm not looking for any kind of relationship with a boy or boys. Or anybody else, except my wife. Despite my focus on boy-sex in these narratives, I'm not sexually interested in boys now, as an adult. I'm not a pedophile. I was interested in other boys when I was a boy - not adult men. The idea of inter-generational relationships literally never occurred to me as a kid.

I think it's a bad idea for adults and kids to have sex. Two (or more) boys experimenting with each other can be harmless and fun. A man and a boy together can screw up the boy's thoughts and feelings. And I doubt many boys would be interested in adult men, anyway. If you don't believe me, take a poll of gay/bi/curious boys.

Why this Website?

Geez, I dunno. Why not? :)

Seriously: I really don't know all the reasons I'm doing this. I'm not an introspective person by nature, and when I try to examine my psychological motives, I usually come up with no answer. (Writing these incidents has required a certain degree of introspection, and invariably it's those sections that give me writer's block.)

There's one overriding, driving impulse behind all this text, and that's the fact that I need to write. I need to write.

I wouldn't want to call myself a "writer". To me, a "writer" always sounds like somebody who smokes a pipe and wears tweed jackets with leather patches on the elbows, and uses words like "obfuscation" in ordinary conversation, and goes through six drafts in the process of jotting a note to the mail carrier. I don't do that. Besides, tweed makes me sneeze. :)

But if a "writer" is someone who writes, then I qualify. Because I have this feeling in my head sometimes that I am bursting with words, and if I don't let them out, there's gonna be an implosion.

So, why this writing? Well, it's autobiography, for one thing. They always say to "write what you know". I guess I know as much about my own childhood as anyone else. :)

It's more than autobiography, though. I mean, I could've decided to do a website on my soccer-playing experiences, or about my science-fair project in fifth grade (it was a homemade telescope, and a big flop - the damn thing couldn't pick out a full moon on a cloudless night :)). Naturally, I throw in details about many of the important things I went through as a kid in the course of writing it all out.

But let's face it, Josephine: This is mostly a sexual autobiography. Sexuality was a very big deal to me as a kid. I have my "theories" (such as they are) about why that was true in my case, and I'll discuss that as we go along. For now, let's say that I don't know that I had alot of choice in the matter, at least in the beginning.

So, again: Why this website? Geez, I dunno - and now, I'm not being flippant. I guess it's a form of therapy. I'm very conflicted about all these experiences you're about to read. I have no idea what the shrinks would say. But my layperson's point of view is that writing them out, and posting them for the world to see, gets them out of the dark dungeon in my psyche and sets them up in the sunlight, so that they can... well... what? Dry up and blow away?... Let's just say: So they can change. And I can change. Change is good.

Okay, I'm wandering off into shrink-territory, huh? The above is as psychological as I want to get here. (I am resisting the strong urge to go off on a mid-length rant about the "science" of psychology, which I hold in low regard. I'm not convinced that psychology is much better than astrology to give me clues about how people tick. And I'm not being flippant here, either. Okay, I said I'd spare you the rant... :))

Let's Get One Thing Straight

I'm tempted to make a joke about the heading above, but I'll be serious. Here's the thing: Yeah, I know these narratives are about sex, and some of them are very explicit. That's how I write. I'm a detail guy. But listen: They are not pornography. I didn't write them for that purpose, and I'll be damned if I'll stand by and let anyone call them pornographic. I've already gone ballistic over that issue with more than one person who read earlier drafts. This is autobiography. I won't try to tell you it's great literature. But it's not written to get anyone off.

Yeah, there's sex. Sex happens. But I hope this website has more meaning to you than that. If you just want to get off, there are alot of other places on the Net you can find. My analogy is fast food versus a decent restaurant. If you're just trying to satisfy an urge, go to McD's. You'll be in and out in ten minutes, and you know exactly what you're gonna get (and it ain't fine dining), and you don't have to put up with extraneous crap like a waiter and potted ferns. If you want something more than just satisfying your biological urges, however, then I doubt you'll be satisfied with the golden arches. Same here. If you're after relief, I suggest you check out some other website. There's alot of stuff here that you'll find distracting, like conversation.

I can't control your reactions, obviously, and if something in here arouses you, then it arouses you. But I don't care to know about it. I would one hundred times rather provoke a reaction in your head and your heart, than elsewhere in your body. (For what it's worth: writing out the memories didn't get me aroused in the least. Not even the most explicit parts.)

How I Wrote The Narratives

I was planning to write here about the process by which I went through the memories and wrote them out. But I kept getting bogged down. It's a process that's almost impossible to describe. I've been hypnotized a couple of times by friends, and that's what it seems like: you're there, aware of what's going on around you, but you're also living through an experience somewhere else. It's more vivid than mere memory. People have asked me how I can remember stuff like conversations, and what the birds sounded like, and so on. I don't know. I definitely don't have memories like that in ordinary day-to-day life. At any rate, whenever I try to describe it, the words start to wiggle off the screen, and the experience defies capturing. Who knows why? Anyway, I'll let the narratives stand on their own.

Having said that, I'll add: There's no guarantee that everything in here happened exactly as I've written it. For one thing, as noted above, I made deliberate changes to protect my identity and my friends' identities. And I guess there's always the possibility that I have false-memory syndrome, and none of this happened. In fact, I could be a 56-year-old chain-smoking waitress at a Red Lobster restaurant in Tulsa, and this whole thing could be a weird dream I'm having. Or I could be a ghost, and haven't realized it yet. (Any of you ever read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance?) However, since I just pinched myself and didn't wake up, I'll assume it all happened more or less as I'm remembering it. :)

You should also take most if not all of the direct quotes in here with a grain of salt. I violated a cardinal rule of English Composition 101, and put quotation marks around conversations, even though I don't always know if that's exactly what was said. I did that for a simple reason: the alternative was to keep inserting awkward and annoying phrases like "...I don't recall the exact wording, but he said...", or, "...this is a paraphrase..." So, don't assume that quotation marks here mean the same thing they do in the newspaper.

One note about the language in the narratives: I debated whether to write them using polite terms, like "intercourse", or crude terms like "fuck". I decided to go with "fuck", for two reasons: (a) that was how I thought and spoke as a boy, usually; and (b) it just sounded so damn clinical and sterile the other way, like a medical journal report. The downside is that by using bad words, I come off sounding like a sleazy porno-story writer. I hope no one is offended by the language. I'd rather be honest, though; and that's the way it was, back then. (I've tried to keep this index page to a PG-13 rating, though.)

And, one final language note: Don't tell me. I know. "Alot" isn't in the dictionary. English teachers would whack me with a ruler for using "alot" in an essay. Well, I don't care. I think "alot" is a word; I like it; and I'm gonna keep using it. Alot!! :)

The Index

How to Use the Index:

I'm using a seasonal index. For each year of my life, I divided the year into quarters, corresponding to the season. I was born in August, not too long before the fall equinox, so this worked out pretty well. It is, of course, a Northern Hemisphere seasonal index, since I grew up in the USA. Apologies to those south of the equator. :)

  • a = autumn (last part of August through November)
  • b = winter (December through February)
  • c = spring (March through May)
  • d = summer (June through first part of August)
Example: 10d = incident when I was 10 y/o, in June, July, or early August (i.e., not long before my 11th birthday)

The Index

  • BACKGROUND & SUMMARY - I suggest you read this first; it's a narrative summary of all the detailed narratives on the website, as well as some additional information to help you get the context.
  1. Beginnings
    1. 4?: Where's that airplane going? A clue to the future
    2. 5?: "Playing doctor" with neighbor girls & boys
    3. 7?: Earliest remembered orgasms
    4. 7d - 13d: Played youth-league soccer
    5. 8a: Ricky and I get curious: first mutual exploration with another boy
    6. 8b: About a rare Southern snowstorm, innocence, and joy
    7. 8d - 12d: City rec-league swim team: Fish discovers water
    8. 8d: David and I try on swimsuits
    9. 8d: The first time I got drunk
    10. 9b: Mike and I go out for the YMCA wrestling team
    11. 9b: Under the stairs with Matt
    12. 9c: First time I kissed a girl
    13. 9d: I take the family car for a joyride
  2. YMCA Summer Camp story-cycle: my sexual awakening at 9 y/o
    1. 9d: Opening day comes; on the bus
    2. 9d: All about that first, full day
    3. 9d: Y-camp sex education - theory, and practice
    4. 9d: Skinny-dipping
    5. 9d: How to play "grab-the-weenie"
    6. 9d: What happened that night in the woods with Joe
    7. 9d: Closing day
  3. "What's it all about?" I teach my friends
    1. 10b: My 5th-grade school photo, and the story behind it
    2. 10b: I find my "Big 3" sex-education books; began teaching my friends what I learned
    3. 10c: Youth-group campout, and three of us show off our weenies to 25-30 boys
    4. 10c: Demonstrating to Shaun how I turn the little tickle into a big tickle
    5. 10d: Ricky and I get curious, again: first mutual masturbation to orgasm with another boy
    6. 10d: My friend Scotty sleeps over
  4. Losing my (boy) virginity at 10 y/o
    1. 10d: How it happened with Alex and me, up on the roof
    2. 11a: Boxers or briefs? My choice, and why
    3. 11b: I enter puberty
    4. 11c: Alex and I play with model trains - sex and sweetness
    5. 11c: Circle-jerk: first of three times, none of which were in a circle :)
    6. 11d: Alex leaves
  5. Boy-crazy, accent on "crazy"
    1. 11d: About being promiscuous
    2. 11d: Christine (14 y/o girl) moves in next door; I realize girls aren't easy like boys
    3. 11d: Getting picked up at the mall... or trying
    4. 11d: Seducing a 17 y/o: Brandon and me at the pool party
    5. 11d: Y-camp, the second time
  6. All-boys military school, 7th-12th grade: Kid in the candy store
    1. 12b - 16b: On the swim team, 7th-11th grades
    2. 12b: "Tie a string around it": Swim-team boys wearing Speedos have no secrets
    3. 12b: My friend Buddy: cutest boy I never convinced to do it
    4. 12d: Florida vacation, and pick-up soccer leads to pick-up sex
    5. 12d: Trying to 69 with a 16 y/o lifeguard
    6. 13a: Finally succeeding at 69ing to mutual orgasm, with friend D.J.
    7. 13a: "Hey, buddy - you a queer?": First of several fights
    8. 13c: Push too hard, and you lose a friend
    9. 13d: A soccer game, a soaking rain, and a bunch of wet boys
    10. 14a: Losing my virginity, again: girlfriend Julie
    11. 14b: Tim, a kid with a special talent
    12. 14b: First of two times time I was forced to suck off an older boy
  7. My boyfriend Kenny, at 15 y/o
    1. 15a: Kenny and me: soccer and sleepover, and that first time
    2. 15a: Soccer trip: Kenny and I find something to do on the long bus ride home
    3. 15b: One of the most awesome things I've ever done with another boy, and one of the most awful.
      1. "I want more than his finger in there": we decide to try it
      2. "I hope you brought something slippery. 'Cause spit isn't enough, ya know": Two boys out in the barn
      3. "How far in are you? More than halfway?": Danny underneath, and a flood of new feelings
      4. "What's up? Why did you do that?": Kenny underneath, and a shameful moment
      5. "It still hurts when I push on it and stuff": the messy aftermath, and what the books never tell you
      6. "You are so awesome...": a small postscript about love
    4. 15c: "Hey, Danny - where's your boyfriend?": Getting beat up, again
    5. 15c: Stupid fight, bad feelings, wounded pride - Kenny is gone
    6. 15d: In the dark: a boy in a cave
    7. 15d: With my friend Jim - the last boy, the last time
  8. Closing one door, opening others
    1. 16a: I make a conscious, deliberate decision: Boys are in the past.
    2. 21a: Am I gay? An experiment, and an answer

If you've skipped all the way down here without reading the rest of the site... you should be ashamed.

Just kidding. :)
If you did skip ahead, you may not be aware that I have another website that also contains autobiographical material. It's a more "literary" effort than this one, and the stories are more fictionalized, so I could do a better job of storytelling. You'll find alot of overlap in subject matter, however, and you'll also find some things that aren't discussed here. (If it bugs you, you'll be glad to know that I consistently spell "alot" as "a lot" on that website, too. Since it's literary, I thought I'd keep the purists happy. :))

Please check it out, if you haven't already:

"Biographical, supportive stories for boys who are gay, bisexual, or just confused -- you are not alone."

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This website and all its contents, including linked pages, are copyright © 1997-2002 by the author. Publication, reproduction, or distribution elsewhere, in electronic, print, or other form, is prohibited without explicit permission from the author.