Back Down Memory Lane, Part One
Before we get started, I want to thank each and every one of you for taking this journey with me. Dominion’s Opinions is officially a year old as of August 14, 2014. Ya Brista has written 47 opinions and more than 50,000 words, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your encouragement. I am always flattered and even a little surprised when a perfect stranger comes up to me and says that he (or she) loves my column. I am humbled by your support and hope to continue to prove worthy of your time every week for years to come. Sooooo, with that said…
Let’s get into it!
Last week, I shared my childhood fantasy in which my superhero alter ego was a woman. That stroll through the jasmine in my mind triggered a wave of feelings for and about my childhood, which is how I found myself parked in front of this house last Saturday, wandering…
By today’s standards, it’s a small house, but it looms large in my memories, because it’s the house in which I grew up. I wish I could talk to the kid who lived in that house 29 years ago. I have often wondered what I would say, how I would guide him through the experiences of that summer so long ago…
I remember what it was like to be 14 years old in that house. As the summer of 1985 began, I was a typically horny teen walking around with a perpetual erection for the cute girls in my neighborhood, whom my mother not so affectionately called “light-skinned heffas”. I had long since stopped playing with my sister’s dolls, such activities having been replaced by long afternoons of
with my best friend, JD. More often than not, those afternoons included secret games of naked grab-ass in JD’s basement that invariably ended with me spanking him and getting excited for reasons I did not yet have the language to describe. How was I to know that I was only weeks away from the single most important chain of events in my life ever, since my birth?
I don’t remember the exact day, but it was undoubtedly hot as hell, as summers in DC were wont to be. I ventured out to get the mail and came across a big envelope addressed to my Dad, marked “Adults Only”. Being the nosey ass that I am Intrigued, I hid it from my mother and retreated to my room, where I opened the envelope to discover it was a mail-order catalogue of adult videos. Alternating waves of fascination and excitement washed over me as I flipped its pages. Today, 14-year olds can google “porn” and this is among the first few images to come up.
It was a different story 29 years ago. There was no access to xxx porn for me. Yes, we had Sex Ed in schools and my parents were open in their communications about sex. I had also seen more than my fair share of Playboys and Penthouses, but with its graphic portrayals of sex, this catalogue was a treasure trove of
For several days, I just flipped through the first few pages, fascinated by the images that I saw. By chance, I flipped past those pages and some words caught my eye. Unaccompanied by any images, were descriptions of several films under the heading “All Male Action”. I was intrigued.
As I read the descriptions of the films, I pondered the meaning of the phrase “All Male Action”. What men would do, exactly, if there were no women around? Don’t judge me, it was a simpler time, and Ya Brista was not… Ya Brista back then. I was just a nosey curious kid living a blissfully sheltered existence in suburban DC, and in my naiveté, I was unprepared for what I saw when I flipped the page to the middle of the catalog.
Even though my mother had made those comments about me not growing up to be a sissy, I didn’t really know what being a “sissy” meant. There just wasn’t much discussion of homosexuality at all, in terms of what it was or what it involved, just the briefest of descriptions. Anyhoo, even if my mind wasn’t prepared for it, my dick sure was…
It was as if a switch that I hadn’t even known was there had been flipped on. I couldn’t stop looking at the pictures, and at night, I dreamed about the images, often leading to stiff sheets in the morning. Instinctively, despite our games of naked grab-ass, I knew this was not information and images I should share with JD, so I kept it to myself for several days. Finally, I shared the catalog with another friend, Charlie, the neighborhood bad boy.
Charlie was beautiful to look at. He was strong and athletic, with skin the color of a good piecrust, light brown eyes, and curly hair. He was an adopted kid who was forever acting out. We had gotten into several scuffles in the past, but that summer, we were friends.
One afternoon, when his parents and sister were out (why they kept leaving his bad ass home alone I will never know), I came over with the catalog. As he started to flip the pages, he started touching himself, and when he got to the pages with the “All Male Action”, he started touching me and before I knew it, he was on his knees…
It was the first time anyone’s mouth had been on my dick and it was incredible. It was warm and wet and intense, a sensation I’d never felt before and couldn’t fully describe, but couldn’t get enough of. He sucked me for what seemed like hours until at some point he stood up
to reveal this massive dick (at least it seemed so at the time, I’ve since encountered bigger) that he expected me to swallow. Charlie was much more sexually active than the sheltered kids in my ‘hood were, so rumors of his size had spread amongst the neighbors, but I was truly not prepared for what he unleashed.
Given that Ya Brista has never been a quitter, I gave it my best shot. He tried to get rough with me until I grabbed his nuts and threatened to rip them off if he didn’t quit fuckin’ around. Luckily, we didn’t do much of anything else because his parents came home. I was glad because my jaw was tired.
As I walked back to my house, a dread began to grow inside of me. Was I a sissy now? Could everyone see it written on my face, as if I had a scarlet letter painted on my forehead? Would Charlie tell others what we had done? In the five minutes it took me to walk home, that dread had become a full-blown panic attack. What was I going to do? Would my parents throw me out?
Looking back on it, so many of the things that make me ME took root that day, with my lazy jaw and aversion to dick sucking, as well as my affinity for pretty young damaged boys being chief among them. Would that I had someone to share my feelings with, in whom I could confide, but I did not, and that night, I felt truly alone in the world.
So many questions ran through my head as I cried myself to sleep that night, but by the morning, I had come up with a plan. I would go to the one place where I could seek answers. It was my refuge, my temple, my oracle.
The Library!
Tune in next week to find out how that one trip to the library changed my life for better and for worse and check out my letter to my younger self.
