Now I can go backerds a bit if you're interested. I suppose the only point in doing it at all is identification. In my several decades of life bumbling about the surface of this blue ball, among the most important bits of wisdom I've gained is how little I know. There are 7+ Billion of us, and, in my view, each and every one of those life stories are valid and likely caught hell in the making (life is problems - living is solving problems). What, then, can I possibly know? My own experience is all I have of value. If anyone else identifies with it and finds value, I'm more than honored and gratified to share it. 

It's just sex.

That someone could have told me that when Miss Thomas yanked me out of 2nd grade class for absentmindedly fondling my dick inside my pants, and shaking me like a rag dog in the hall screaming at me asking what I was doing. I had no idea. But I'd had have said anything to get those raging, bulging, maniacal eyes out of my face and her to let go.

It's just sex.

That someone could have told me that when much later I began fantasizing about being a girl, but not just a girl; a submissive girl who liked having degrading, nasty things being done to her -things pored on her, being dunked, lots of liquid, etc. This was attached to some early masturbation. I still didn't know the first thing about sex, but something was feeling damned good. And I clearly am not the only one to have had at least something like these thoughts. Famously, or infamously, Mr. Hitchcock used ideas as such, albeit well developed, to clear effect in well known scenes. 

It's just sex.

That someone could have told me that the first time I gave a blowjob as a relative alpha male, ghetto surviving, running back, in the bible belt. 

Are these things potentially and most likely more than just sex? Of course. But for purposes of this blog, they manifested as nothing but; nothing more serious. None of them made the least bit of sense to me at the time, and I had ZERO help. Miss Thomas was cruel to me in a society that taught me to also be cruel to myself for the same rather spurious reasons. It's taken years, but.... In some dynamics, despite, all the nonsense I've been shoveled all my life, nothing I shall ever discuss here rises beyond just sex. Let me be clear that I speak only of a so called 'moral' or 'character' assessment and not a personal definition of ones own inner being as it applies to sex and relationships. I was simply saddled with a great deal of crap that I'm having a wonderful time pissing on in lingerie. 

(I most assuredly do not wish to bother anyone's belief system, and apologize if I've done so inadvertently)