My best friend and I played sexual games together from about age 6 to 11. Early on (6 on up) we would put our cocks in each other's butt cheeks. Later (9 on up) we would watch each other hump playboy centerfolds on the bed. Although I couldn't cum I did occasionally (I realized later) have dry orgasms. Unfortunately, we quit playing with each other at age 11 when (I suspect now) he started to cum. I couldn't cum until I was In 6th grade, 12 years old (1969).

At age 10 my parents asked me if the owner of the local hobby shop had ever "touched me" (he'd been arrested for molesting little boys). He hadn't. And I was SAD about that! I wished he had! I also (occasionally) in these years, hitch-hiked. Though I, of course, was trying to get somewhere, I also hoped that someone would molest me. I was kind of fuzzy on what "molesting" meant. I thought it involved them showing me porn and letting me touch myself over my clothes (though I thought they might "do something" to me, too).

I've had very deviant fantasies from an early age. And a bra and slip fetish. My fantasies, from as early as I can remember, involved exhibitionism, voyeurism, incest, bi, bras, slips, tits, sucking and fondling tits, bondage, rape, wearing women's underwear, being a woman, being each member of the family in turn in full family straight and bi incest. And this all started before I could even cum. 

At age 10 and 11 I would occasionally would wear my 13 year old sister's Hawaiian grass skirt (and nothing else), and dance for some of the neighborhood boys (singlely and in small groups), pretending I was a girl, WISHING I were a girl, with my little boner sticking out of the grass. I'm not sure what I wanted. I wanted them to touch me. I wanted them to touch themselves. Mostly I REALLY wanted to be a girl. And to have tits. And to turn those boys on. I always initiated it. One time I let 3 boys shove a Popsicle stick in my ass. It did nothing for me. I really wanted to have a pussy and have the boys play with me. Most of the boys were slightly older than me. None of them were particular friends of mine. I was too ashamed to do it in front of my best friend. One day my older sister (an unpleasant born-narc. We've never got along) caught me. She made the other boy go home, made me get dressed, then dragged me down to my best friend's house (where our mom was visiting my best friends mom. I don't know where my best friend was...). Anyway, my sister told mom, in front off best friends mom, exactly what happened. They questioned me. I lied (poorly). I knew they knew I was lying. It was pathetic. I was humiliated.

It was never mentioned to me again. Admittedly I was already messed up sexually (hell, I was raised catholic!), but this experience sure didn't help! I never got a chance to wear the grass skirt again although in the following year I was wearing and stealing bras and slips. I started wearing my moms bras and slips when I jacked off when I started cumming. I also would steal bras and panties off of neighbors clothes lines and jacked off with them. I also went through the underwear drawers of my friends sisters and moms whenever I could. I'd also try to find any porn the parents might have.

In 1972 I was a 15 year old freshman in high school. I went to a private, catholic, all boys high school across town. As a result, every day I transferred buses downtown; and I walked past an adult bookstore. And one day I roused my horny-fueled courage and tried to get inside. And I succeeded! And in 45 minutes I learned more about sex than I had learned in the previous 15 years.

In those days they didn't wrap the magazines in plastic. You could flip through the entire magazine. I'd never even seen pubic hair before. I had NO idea what women were like "down there". I had no idea what intercourse was like. I'd never seen a hard penis other than mine (since I was able to cum). And in those 45 minutes I saw masturbation (by both men and women), cum, intercourse, oral, anal, gay, lesbian, and bondage. I was in heaven.  When I got home I IMMEDIATELY went to my room to jack off to remembered images.

I stopped in most every day for 3 weeks. And then I walked into the back room. A giant space filled with movie booths. There was no video; it was all silent film loops, the clacking of the projectors the only noise. The magazines were really pricey but I could afford the occasional quarter or two for a few moments of explicit film sex. Excellent jacking off material for when I got home. There were no doors or curtains; privacy was ensured by the layout of the booths.

Have I mentioned that I was kind of naive? Two things baffled me about the movie booths. First, why were there so many guys hanging around back here? I mean, I'd go back there, look at the title, listen to see if the projector was already running, go in, watch one or two quarters worth, then go home (I always looked at the magazines first, then go to the movie). Anyway, that's the LAST place I'd hang out. I felt so guilty and embarrassed and ashamed just being there. And it was so... grimy. It was also weird the wide range of the men that went to the bookstore - business men, blue collar, men in their 20s, 40s, and 60s.

The other thing that baffled me was why did men walk into my movie booth when I was watching movies? Couldn't they hear the projector going? It was so embarrassing! Sometimes they asked if they could watch! No! Not only "ew!" but also "how cheap can you be!" (How naive could I be?).

Anyway, after about 3 weeks of looking at magazines and 3 weeks of magazines and movies, I ran into a guy who knew what to do and who he was dealing with. He came to the booth opening, put a stack of about 20 quarters on the coin box and, at the same time, said, "do you mind if I watch?" Holy crap! I don't want to watch porn with someone else! I don't want him to know what turns me on (because I'm so ashamed of it) and I'll be... aroused. And I'm embarrassed by that, too. But holy crap! All that free porn! I've never watched more than four quarters worth at a time!

"Ok," I mumbled, and moved over to make room for him. Porn, porn, glorious porn. But why does this guy keep trying to engage me in conversation? I don't want to talk! I want to watch porn and try to pretend he's not here. But I don't want to be rude. And he's paying for the porn, I'm the freeloader. Plus, I'm just a kid. He's an adult! 30 or 40 years old.

So he says embarrassing things like, "boy! She's got really nice tits, doesn't she?" And I'd give him monosyllabic replies. And then he'd say something like, "boy! This is really making my cock hard. How about you? Is your cock hard?" I had to admit that it was (I couldn't lie to him - he was an adult!).

And it progressed. Do I mind if he rubs himself over his pants? Encouraging me to touch myself. Telling me how much better it feels if HE touches me (it really does!) and finally he's on his knees in front of me, pulling down my pants, sucking my cock, fondling my balls, fingering my ass crack, and then bringing me to the most exquisite orgasm I have ever experienced in my life. Cuming in his mouth was both the best and the most shaming thing I'd ever felt (perhaps #1 and #1A with the Hawaiian grass skirt incident).

Anyway, I came, zipped up, and ran from the bookstore crying. I knew I was messed up sexually before this, and I knew I was bad/immoral/sinful. But as I walked out onto the sidewalk I knew that I had crossed a line. I was dirty. And I could never be clean again. I had done something for which I could never be forgiven. I was warped, broken, a flawed creation. Naturally I would never do this again. It wouldn't change anything, I couldn't ever atone for it, but at least I'd never do it again.

Never lasted 3 weeks. Cum, tears, shame. The next never lasted 2 weeks. Then I gave up on quitting.