This morning, I am blogging from bed via my Nokia N800 internet tablet. I wanted to put a thought or three down before I turn in. After being a member of Laura’s Playground for more than a year now, I observe that one of the most common reactions from girlfriends and spouses when their mate comes out to them as a cd’er is for the s.o. to ask if we are gay. For the record, I am straight, not homosexual. I have had two homosexual experiences in my life, which from the statistics is more than most men will admit to, even though Kinsey’s results show such (especially adolescent experiences)experiences to be typical throughout the population. My particular homosexual experiences were also incestuous, and they both occurred before I turned 18, so technically and legally speaking, I was not capable of consenting to either relationship, although the relationship with my brother was certainly voluntary and not forced upon me except perhaps in the sense that I looked up to my brother and perhaps he took advantage of my youth as well as the fact that he was maturing sexually sooner than I, him being a year older than I. My uncle is another story, however. He lured me with praise, special attention, gifts, he let me use his cameras (he was an amateur photographer) and the like, all the while ridiculing my brother so I would feel special. We went skinny-dipping together down at the creek behind our home, on the premise that he and his siblings used to do it all the time when they were young, and this was a right of passage. I swam in the nude, my young athletic body must have been tantalizing to him, as I tried to hide my erection underwater at first, and then as I quickly lost my inhibitions and allowed him to see my manhood. That was when he photographed me, and I posed for him as an artist’s subject. Later, he took me to a cast party for a play he was crewing on, enticed me with the beautiful Amanda, who as if scripted, teased and flirted with me as he fed me hard liquor, and got me so drunk I vomited by the side of the road on the way back to his rented townhouse where I would sleep with him that night. He is a pedophile who had done this before and I’m sure he has since, and I am a coward because I never told anyone about it until revealed it to my psychiatrist when I was 20. I am now 42.
More later, kisses-KM