Dance to the beat of my own drummer

I grew from that 13 year old boy, little by little, into a tough street smart kid on the brink of manhood. My hormones were running rampant. It was a terrible time for me, not knowing what the hell my body was doing. I was horny all the time, my emotions were up and down. At one point I cried at everything, I could not stop. I was taught that men don't cry, only girls and sissy boys cried. So at 15 I was having this internal turmoil going on in my head about what my body was doing. I loved women and how could that be if I was crying all the time. That made me a woman...didn't it? Hell I didn't know who or what I was. I thought about suicide, after all I was a woman in a mans body. My dad would be ashamed of me and the embarrassment that would cause my family was more than I could bare. I did not have a clue about life but thought I knew it all. One day my mother came upon me in my bed room with tears in my eyes. She sit me down and wanted to know what the problem was. I resisted and told her there was nothing wrong, I just had something in my eye. Mom was a smart, tough, little bit of a woman. She stood 5' 4" in high heels and carried a big switch, by the time she had me I was the 5th in my family with my younger brother to follow soon after. So everything I was going through she had seen already from my two older brothers. Finally I broke down and told her of my fears about crying and becoming a woman, I had to be with all the crying I was doing, it was either that or I was gay. (lets be clear at this junction I had no feelings of being attracted to males) But I liked women, I was a very confused young man. I was never told the story about the birds and the bees, or any other stories that included a sex talk. My macho father was a hard working man and they had just forgotten about the two latecomers to the ball game. My brother and I were the rookies in question. So mom being mom, very gently told me to shut the hell up, stop this bull shit crying (did I mention we were from the south where they teach you to swim by throwing your ass in the deep end of the lake and telling you dinners on the stove, you either made it home and had learned to swim, or there was extra food left over) and sit up straight for gods sake and listen to me. First of all you are certainly not gay (actually the word back they was queer, gay was when you were having fun) your crying is just a by product of what the doctors call hormones. You remember a few weeks ago your voice was cracking? I said yes, she said well that was a sign that you were and are going through what is called puberty. Those hormones do some crazy things to a young mans head and body. So snap out of this self pity crap your not turning into a woman, your not going crazy, your going through just one the many changes of life. The good thing is your on the back side of this one. Now go chase some girls and quit trying to be one. Thanks mom I love you!  

I grew up in a neighborhood I now refer to as a redneck neighborhood. I loved my Dad but he was like Archie Bunker. Dad was a bigot plain and simple. Prejudice ran in our neighborhood, it wasn't something we ever thought about. It wasn't taught consciously, but was passed down from generation to generation. My father used the "N" word more than anyone I knew, then or since. I was the age around 13 when they started something called integration. It was in full force, and busing was how they were doing it, moving kids from one district to another mixing black and white. And that pissed every one off. It wasn't the kids that were pissed, to us it was more guys to pick from on a sandlot game of baseball. Then the riots in Richmond, CA. of the 60's were upon us, the hippy generation free love and flower power and free love, did I mention they were giving it away? Wow to be a teenager at the right time and place. Just across the bay, a little corner intersection of Haight and Ashbury. Right next to the lush grasses and trees of Golden Gate Park. I became a Man before I turned 16 and it was with a Woman, not a girl. This could be the reason I am so attracted to redheads. Thus I never saw her again, but I did look for her many times. But those many times were over a long period of time, due to the fact I didn't have a car or a license to drive one. I had to wait until one friend or another was going over to SF and catch a ride. I would walk through the park wearing a flower in my hair. It worked several more times, but I never saw the lady with the red hair again. After the busing of blacks to our neighborhood and the busing of us to their neighborhoods we were pretty much integrated in everything. This was the first time I played sports with the black guys. In the process I met two guys that would become my friends, one of which is still a friend today. We played baseball on the same teams all the way through high school, American Legion. These were guys that had no color they were just Larry and David and the first 2 people of no color that came to my house in broad daylight, in full view of the neighbors, to have lunch and play baseball in the back yard. I could tell my mother was nervous did not really know how to act. She knew they were coming because I had asked her if it was OK, and against her better judgement she said yes. Did not want her boys to be prejudice. This was the first time anyone in my family all the way back to when my people crossed on the mayflower, or those that were already here had people of no color dine in their home much less visit them. It just was not done. But we did it LOL, (my Dad just about had a heart attack ) My dad was not there by the way. He was out of town on a construction job somewhere. In the long run I heard my dad say before he died that they hired some "N" word people at the plant and these guys were really surprisingly good workers. That was the highest praise he could ever muster. For him it was an amazing turn around, he stopped just short of saying this one guy was as close as a friend as any white guy he knew, but I knew. He was coming around but never had time to complete the turn. He died at 55 doing what he loved and that was fishing. He stood up in the boat to stretch and that was it, he was gone. I love ya Dad!

I just proof read what I had written (and corrected what I found) when I was active here. It has been awhile since I have written anything, I almost forgot where I was going with this.

Mid to very late 60's I had yet to find an interest in BDSM. Through school I had met and had sex with several girls the vanilla kind. Eventually I met my future wife, I knew that I would marry her, she was a year and a half younger than me. But I was smitten, at least until I discovered she wasn't too experienced at having sex. I mean we had sex but we never had time to experiment with anything, her parents kept a tight rope on her. It wasn't the inexperience it was her unwillingness to try things, but we eventually got through that. Nine days after my 17th birthday I joined the US Marine Corps. I had been away and didn't see her for two months while going through boot camp. She came to the graduation ceremony, I saw her for about 3 hours and our whole company of brand new Marines were shipped north to Camp Pendelton for infantry training. That was another 4 to 5 weeks, then I got 10 days leave. That's when she got pregnant, we only done it the one time. That's all it took. But I had to leave for Motor Transport school that was another 5 weeks training. By the end of that is when she called and told me she was with child and her parents were some kind of pissed off. I asked her to marry me over the phone call, she said yes. I guess they didn't believe I was serious, because I was called into the company CO's office the next day. I explained to me that the girls father (retired GSGT USMC) had called and wanted to be sure my Marines were the type to do the right thing. He just wanted to be sure we were on the same page. He didn't want me to be an embarrassment to the Corps. Not to worry sir I will do the right thing. He handed me orders that said I was to take a 30 day leave immediately, and upon returning to the base I was to report to staging battalion for training after I had orders to report to Nam.

I grew up in California, and at 13, I had just begun to hit puberty. I realized I liked women, a lot. Not girls exactly, but women, older women, or girls older then me by 4 or 5 years. Growing up living next door to Nancy, a very attractive girl ,several years older than me. She taught me many things and teased me without mercy. Many things I didn't understand, but I liked the way they felt, tasted, or looked. I realized you could be excited by just watching a woman move. More so when she moved while looking at you. I became fascinated with women, or obsessed would be a better word. When I was 13, I hung around with older guys from my neighborhood, many of them had cars. I looked up to these guys. This is where I learned about women and sex. LOL Then had to relearn later in life. One night we went to San Francisco and drove to Carol Doda's strip club. We decided we were going to see a naked woman come hell or high water. We didn't get into Carols but we did get in to a place across the street. As we walked by the place, there was a guy dressed in a yellow suit that grabbed us by the arm and practically shoved us through the door. The place was small probably held maybe 15 customers at a time. Smokey atmosphere, dimly lit lights, with a spot light on a beautiful blond woman wearing nothing but feathers. She was lying down in a bed of some kind. It was dark so it was hard to tell exactly. She was up above us, on a stage, more like a big rectangle shaped box, it was elevated and hanging from wires. She was on a bed inside the box, and she did not have any clothes on, nothing but feathers. I swear she was naked, at that moment in time. I also had 2 beers, it was a two drink minimum. So I wasn't feeling no pain. As I reminisce, I realize that the woman wasn't completely naked, she had a body suit of some kind because her private area had no opening, and I remember straining to see that particular spot while the show was going on. So she wasn't completely naked. I wasn't drunk, I felt I was, but that will happen if you tell a boy he's drinking beer, and you forgot to mention it was near beer, draft no less. The law says if she is naked, then you won't be drinking alcohol. Apparently drunks have been known to get a little hands on. So there was no alcohol in the beer. After that little tidbit about the near beer, it was a night to remember, because............yes lets hear it. I saw a real naked woman,  I didn't get drunk and couldn't party with the rest of the guys, because lets face it the only reason I got in the bar the first place, is because they just show pussy to kids ,they don't allow them to drink.

I knew that girls were OK, but I was really turned on by grown women, that was where my mind was at. To name a few, Joey Heatherton, Sofia Loren, Bridgett Bardo, Raquel Welch, they all fueled my fantasies. As did some of my friends mothers. I just love women! As I realized later in life, I had a thing for mothers. Yes mothers, mature women, strange as it may seem I wasn't turned on by my mother mind you, but my friends mothers, some of which were hot. Or as I find now days they are called MILF's. Not every one of my friends had one that was a milf, but there were a few. I looked and flirted, but never made an advance to anyone early on, too bashful. I know now, there may have been several opportunities that, I was just too young, and didn't recognize the signs, that they were flirting back. All I had to do was act, but looking back, and know what I know now, but didn't have a clue back then, OK I had a clue but wasn't sure how to go about making a move on a friends mother. Being wrong about the situation would be a fatal mistake. How do you explain to your friend that you thought his mother was coming on to you? You don't, and you never give him a reason to ask that question. So you don't and you whine later on when you realize that women have needs as much as men. If I could have been born in today's youth, things may have been different. Well they could have, again it's my story.