Please note: If you do not wish to read all this introductory "stuff," a/k/a "disclaimers," please skip to the place below where you see five lines of different type characters. All this "excess verbage" between here and there – for lack of a better term – is merely stuff I wrote to get some stuff off my chest that I thought needed to be said, yet may not be of any interest to anyone else, except me. You are invited to read it, if you wish.
This is a totally new piece of writing from a relatively-new writer, here. This story is based on real-life occurrences, and belongs in the "Gay Male-Encounters" section. I have kept it as vague as possible while still keeping it in story form, and have deliberately left out some details to keep my identity anonymous, as well as other the participants, and that's the way I want to keep it. The story and the title belongs to the author, who has also written under the same pen-name in the past for "Handjobs" magazine, unfortunately no longer published.
"The treatise below – titled "Of husky fetishes, man-boobs, Dad-wishes... [and other stuff]" is not necessarily a "feel-good piece." I admit that upfront, so if you were expecting a quick way to get off, well, you may want to move on, now, rather than be disappointed. Contrarily, this is a series of reminiscences from a sixty-plus year-old man that is both wonderful, and maybe a tad not-quite-so wonderful, yet very much in the realm of an honest, real-life story that began for me in the early days of the 1960s, and – gratefully – continues to this day. It may make some cry, some laugh, yet is based on real-life, and very much so! So, if you are still with me, please feel free to read on. It's a tough one to read, honestly stated, but something I had to get out there, as this stuff is altogether much "too" real to keep to myself, in case someone else has had similar experiences, and feels somehow "OUT of the mainstream." Believe me, the only "un-natural" things are things that are physically impossible to do, and you are hardly alone in your feelings, especially so if you are in the middle years – or later – of your life. And, if you ARE also "there," then doubtless you know where I am coming from. After reading some of the other material on Nifty.org, I realized the other day that some may feel tremendously isolated and "odd," if their experiences are not represented here, as I realized I am one of those. I just wanted – in my own way – to go on the record and tell other stories, that is stories possibly not heard/read about in the media, OR online. That's another reason why I like Nifty.org: I don't feel I need to "censor out" anything that is not in the mainstream. Not every gay man is the same, nor have we all had the same experiences; good, bad, different, or even those far OFF the proverbial well-beaten path. Some people in the society at large may want us to be alike, so they can put us all in the same "box," and label us as "gay," or worse, when we simply don't all fit that/those categories. I have resented those in the past, and still resent to this day, those who try to do so. We cannot be – and simply are not – all the same!!! Some of us are city dwellers, some are suburban guys, and some are country or "rural" guys. Some of us are dedicated/confirmed bachelors like myself, who enjoy being single. Some of us are Dads/husbands, with growing/grown children, and some of us knew that "that is not me," early on, and went our own way. Some are divorced, and some are staying in loveless marriages, as they don't want to be divorced, or may still love their spouses. If you feel "on the outside, looking in," I can only encourage you by saying you are hardly alone in your sexual personhood. The gamut of human sexuality is as wide as the human race itself is. And, that is one of the reasons why I wrote the piece, below.
Some ramblings now, from a guy in his early 60s: [Again, read it if you wish, yet know it this is just ONE man's opinions, and experiences, and not meant to fit into someone else's "mold."] While some may wonder if I advocate barebacking, I caution anyone considering it to use protection. I have it in my stories, elsewhere, yes, yet these stories are fiction, and the product of the author's over-active imagination, and in previous years, a VERY active sexual life, as an "exclusive" top, sans one experience, which I share about, below, and I consider it a true miracle that I somehow am still HIV negative, due to that one lapse of common sense. If you are monogamous, and are absolutely 100% certain of your partner's HIV status, then you probably don't have anything to worry about. I would caution anyone else, however, to use proper protection, and be aware at all times what is occurring around you. It only takes one poor judgment to cause a major health crisis. I do not enjoy having to say this, however, I believe it needs to be said, that we ought to "use the head on our shoulders, and not the one between our legs!" Hopefully, that doesn't sound too "preachy," and offend anyone, however, I don't relish the thought of being told I am "[fill in the blank]," just because I urge caution. It wasn't like it was back then, "out there," pre-AIDS, and certainly there are even newer STDs that weren't around in the 70s, 80s and into the mid-90s, when I was sexually most active.
The bathhouse scene in the large Midwestern city I formerly resided in was – for the most part – a place of refuge for me, and many men I knew at that time, especially so older gentlemen than myself, the chubby/chaser crowd, and numerous "bear-types," as I call them, although the "muscle-bear" phenomenon was only then getting started and many men were called "bears," back then, even those of us who are chubby/chunky/husky guys. I enjoyed my sexual life – from the time I began the "coming out" process [1979] - into my late 20s when I became sexually active, and well into my early 40s, I was pretty active, finally realizing – after the death of a partner from heart disease and diabetes resultant from his earlier drug use days – that this wasn't the wisest thing I could be doing, and cut back the frequency of my encounters with other men, considerably. Yes, I am no longer "active," yet I am not celibate, either, and enjoy an occasional roll in the hay with a guy if the timing is right and we're both ready for a little "action," usually oral sex, and sometimes its mutual, but not always [and as you will see in the story, below, I started at an early age]. I still consider myself same-gender oriented, only more discretionary with my body than in years past, however now, I just do it as the situation arises, and look at it as something that is a PART of my life, and not ruling my life, as it was in years past.
Plainly stated, I have slowed down considerably, and take life – in general – at more leisurely pace, and not try to bed down with every guy I was/am attracted to that I meet, as I did, all those years ago. Am I sad that I needed to curtail the more active sexual life? No, not inordinately so, yet it is a reminder to me to be a bit more discretionary in my desires to have a bit of fun, when that opportunity arises. I enjoy – always – the sight of a nude man. I am not a monk, nor a prude! Guys with pectorals like granite still turn my head, and probably always will, as do my fellow "chubs," "bears," and "chubby bears." The ones I call "muscle-bears" now are just plain "hot," be they body-builder types [yes, even smooth-chested or barely furred ones can be "hot"], much like human tanks and fire-plug-shaped guys, those absolutely "huge" in the chest department, or just plainly nice-looking average-sized guys with a nice build, they can all – STILL – make me absolutely "drool" with desire, and temporarily lose my good sense [and my freedom!], if I am not careful. If you are one of those, God bless you! I'd really rather see you with your shirts OFF, though, however, those choosing to NOT go bare-chested are simply "magnificent," too! I admire you, GREATLY!!!!!
There are things I still like, such as watching another man cum, and you are welcome to take that as a clue as to where I am, at present. There's enough stuff "out there" on the net to assist any man, regardless if his preferences are for men, women, both men AND women, or whatever they may be into, and every sub-type therein. If you are reading this on the net, you probably already know that, yourself. That is as much a part of me as liking coffee, lasagne, an occasional glass of wine, or getting/giving head. It – an attraction to other guys – has been with me as long as I remember, and probably will be until I pass into the next life, and meet my Maker, who I know loves me, AS I AM. There, it's out in the open, and yes, I do feel good about it, as I am a man who enjoys the company of other men, their bodies, their minds, AND their emotions. Some men with whom I have had past associations with – several years ago now, yet whom are no longer in my life - shared about this online to a greater extent, mid-way through the LAST decade, meaning 2000-2010, and a few of us – even those who did not label themselves as "gay" – did agree that we may be more "homo-social" than "homo-sexual" [if you will allow us to use those phrases in that context], meaning just and only preferring the company of other MEN, over women. I won't lie and say I don't, as I do. Always have. To know another guy "digs" me – and I them – is a wonderful thing, and sometimes, just the thought of knowing that "that guy digs other guys," in the vernacular those of us who are "baby boomers" use, is the thing that sometimes gets me through a lonely time in life, to know that there are others like us, and they see and respect our manhood enough to know we are – somehow – "brothers," of a different sort, of course , and connected, at a point in our emotional/mental personas that brings about good feelings, knowing the connection is something we cherish, and respect, greatly. Those of us who have moved into that stage in our lives often report feeling like we have finally "settled down," as our forebears' would probably have called it. It's comfortable for those of us who are there, and I suspect a mystery of major proportions to those men who just are not "there," yet. I don't put them down for that, as I was there once, too. There's nothing to be ashamed of when we are out there and having our fun, nor when we finally DO "settle down." That's just where we are in life, at the moment. I just learned to enjoy it, and be thankful for – and not regret – my younger years. It WAS fun! It was a great time and I truly LOVED being a twenty-something in the late 70s and early 80s, pre-AIDS, although I learned to be more cautious in my later years. That stated, however, I know we can't – and won't – be 25 forever [dammit!]. I enjoy looking at this 60-plus year-old body and still find it – and my fellows in our golden-years – attractive, for the most part. Could I have made healthier choices back then, and not have so many health issues, now? Well, yeah, of course. Yet, all things considered, I enjoyed those more carefree days of sexual freedom in the flow of my life and know that it was – indeed – a PART of my life that I cannot deny. I was there. And, 99.98% of it was truly WONDERFUL!!! We all move on, eventually, and even if we don't want to, LIFE ITSELF moves forward, with OR without us, OR our permission. Please, if you have read this far, keep those things in mind, too, as your read the actual "story."
I understand the terms of publication on Nifty.org, and agree to those listed; that there is no compensation for the story in any form, that it may appear on other websites as a part of the USENET network [et al]. If you wish to contact the author, please do so at CAfurrball5@outlook.com. Due to the potential volume of mail, responses are not guaranteed, although I may read them, regardless of the nature of the comments, positive or negative. "Flaming" or "fire-laced" letters will be ignored, and disposed of, so if you are incapable of staying away from the "poison-pen" aspect of writing to the authors, don't bother sending comments, as I will also block the possibility of any future connection to/with you. And along those same lines, the pen-name I use is a pseudonym, as I prefer to remain anonymous, for that very same reason. The nifty.org website would appreciate any and all contributions, to keep the website running, as the costs of upkeep on the website are considerable. Please consider donating, as your personal finances allow. Our stories – and your reading pleasure – are dependent on the generosity of those who feel it is a worthwhile investment, as our communities are served by its existence.
Of husky fetishes, man-boobs, Dad-wishes... [and other stuff] -----Bobby Joe
Yep, I've got a husky/chunky/chubby-guy fetish. I readily admit it. Seeing a big guy on TV, out in public, or wherever, I start leaking pre-cum [by "big" I mean, overweight, and NOT the extraordinarily well-hung [!], as I am MUCH more an appreciator of small-average hung men and leave the ones over six inches to the ones known as...well...you know]. Yes, it affects me, "just that much"!!! Seeing a young man on TV a couple of years back in a report on the news when one of his friends committed a MAJOR crime, and subsequent reports, showed the young man in a sleeveless sweatshirt, in profile, and his big, thick chest, made THIS big ol' bear drool, big time! No kidding, I beat off to thoughts of him in my head that night, in fact every night that week, although I usually only end up jerkin' the gherkin once or twice a week, anymore. If he only knew how much guys like me love seeing those big ol' chunky/husky/chubby guys, that type of guy may need to think twice about going around looking so absolutely "delicious" in public... [If he knew of my writing this down and actually admitting I think he's "hot," I expect he would – truly – "shudder" at the thought of another GUY finding him so absolutely "delicious"!!!] The thought of having a guy like that around, especially so under me and taking it up the arse – and squeezing those absolutely delicious-looking man-boobs of his – thrills THIS man, no end [and – again, admittedly – the ones with the pointy or "cone-shaped" ones are The Most Attractive, to me]!!! Somewhere on my computer, I have a snap-shot of him, when I "froze" the action on the TV screen, and took a pic of him on my cell. Hot, to say the least! All of you guys who carry the extra weight and don't mind having another man – even an older man – look at you, you would be surprised to know just how much some of us admire all those extra pounds! [This refers, of course, to the guys who are actually "open" to M2M action. You who are ever-straights – if you exist at all – have my permission to move on, and please forget you've ever read this!!!]
Looking back, I couldn't even tell you just when this particular set of fetishes actually began. I cannot remember, and I've thought about it, a lot. I guess I've always had it, since cognitive thought started, back when I was still a youngster, myself. Like so many gay men, I cannot remember ever NOT being attracted to other boys, and of course later, other MEN. I remember sucking on a cock at age six, and – as soon as I had his cock in my mouth – I was hooked! The feel of the soft skin on his beautiful penis, the hardness of his "weenie," as we young boys called them at that time in our lives, and – yes – even the taste/scent, although strange to me, at that time, had me wanting more. There were many times when I tried to get various playmates/buds in a situation where I could put their cocks in my mouth, growing up. Admittedly, I got caught a couple of times, but gratefully my parents chalked it up to boys being boys, and sexual experimentation being a part of growing up, yet they did caution me about doing it with just anyone, that I could get into trouble if it got out in the neighborhood/school district that I was on the hunt for it. I don't remember being overly concerned about it. All I wanted back then was a chance to touch, hold, lick and suck other guys' cocks, and to have one in my mouth.
There is an old saying, that "turnabout is fair play," and it came calling one day about twenty years ago, however, in a most wonderful way. A young man of about twenty was following me around the bathhouse – back in my native Midwest U.S. hometown – and he finally caught up with me in the common area.
"Hey, mister. Love all that fur!!! You got some time to fool around with a guy like me?"
"Sure thing, young man. Come on to my room."
We got in the room and dropped our towels. Kinda skinny, and more of a twink than I would normally go for [then], the lad had a charm about him that was undeniable. I looked at him and sat on the cot [I will add here that I have come to find that body type attractive, to a certain extent, in the intervening years].
"What are you looking for, young man? Most young guys that come around here go for the more physically fit, yet you picked me. Obviously, you dig us big guys?"
"Yeah, I do. That, and, I want to be spanked. I mean, like, let me have it."
"Well, although I've never had this asked of me, OK. On your stomach, boy."
Thinking "how on earth am I going to accomplish this? He wants it so badly it obviously hurts, but he has no padding to protect his cute little ass." Finally, I climbed on top of his legs, and gave his backside a few hard, open-handed slaps, leaving red marks.
"Harder, sir. Please. Let me have it."
"Are you sure about that, son? I'm pretty strong, and don't want to seriously injure you."
"That's OK. I want it, and I want it badly. I've been a bad boy today, and have been teasing you guys all afternoon with my body."
"Well, OK. Here goes!!!" A few minutes of spanking, as hard as I could muster, followed, and I left his cute little derriere nearly "beet-red." He didn't exactly have a bubble-butt, as he was too skinny for that, yet that wonderful looking rump was clearly enflamed from the abuse he asked for.
"Daddy-bear, I want you to fuck me. No, actually, I want you to RAPE me."
"You sure about this, son? I can be really brutal when I fuck someone, and you have hardly any meat on your bones, and no padding to bump into when I thrust. And, I am not a lightweight. I must outweigh you by at least one and a half times to one." "Please, Daddy-bear! Please!!! I want to get what I deserve. Rape me. Seriously! No lube. Just mount me and fuck the daylights out of me! Please! I want it so badly!!!"
Now, the thought of fucking anyone dry was not something I would have even considered, before that day, and it did not sound too appealing to this bear's cock, either, yet a little bit of spit was in order, I knew, or I would never have gotten past the spinchter muscle that guarded his portal. Once applied, though, it wasn't that unpleasant, and he was clean, that is, he had done something to make sure there was no residue of poop left in the chute. The first thrust, I made sure, was brutal. I landed on top of the lad, and hit bottom.
"Is this what you want, kiddo? A man's cock up your ass, fucking the daylights out of you? `Cause that's what you're about to get!!!" I was loud, and planned on getting even louder-still. Memories of my own Dad's anger, usually well over the top when he was pissed off at me for some relatively minor infraction, was ever-present, yet I held back to some extent, as I did not want to scare the boy shitless, nor overtly "alarm" any of the other patrons who could easily misconstrued my play-acting as being abusive, and wind up in jail. I only wanted to give the young guy – probably in his early 20s – what he so clearly desired, and actually seemed to be enjoying! My cock got rock-hard, at that moment, as I thrust into him with such force that he actually started pushing back to meet my wild and certainly animalistic thrusting.
The young man grunted out a "yes, sir!" as I began to ream him another hole. Thrusting wildly and stallion-like, knowing he wanted me to pour it on thick, there wasn't much to hang onto – up top, that is – no thick body with skin to lean on, so at first I grabbed onto his shoulders, and having a bit of trouble hanging onto the small-statured young man, I eventually grabbed him around the torso, and went to town!!!
"You like this, boy? You want a man to fuck you? Well, you're getting it now, `cause I have no intention of stopping until I am fully satisfied, even if it takes an hour!"
Having had two or three already, my cock was primed for the ride of a lifetime. I rode his arse like a wildman, and was soon grunting in rhythm with the lad, bouncing up and down on his backside, thrusting my cock up into him so hard I was rocking the cot. I am not sure of exactly how long we were at it, however, it was a GREAT fuck! I made sure of that, and, I was totally satisfied when I climbed off him. My penis was totally surrounded by a super-tight hole, and – with each thrust – I made sure I not only did a long-and-slow thrust into him, but also moved around inside him to let him feel a man's cock in action. Slow, then fast, then slow again. Hard, soft, hard. I varied the thrusting as much as I could consciously muster, ramming it home until I hit rock-bottom at times, eliciting a grunt from him that let me know he felt every one of my five-and-a-half, rather thick, inches. My then-late partner had told me right after we had first consummated our relationship five years earlier, four times that first afternoon and in that very same bathhouse, that "for a guy who isn't necessarily well-hung, your thickness MORE than makes up for the lack of inches! I DEFINITELY know I am being fucked by a man when you're inside me!!!" I thought back of my beloved's words in those moments, remembering just how much he loved being fucked by me, and poured it on even more, still!!! I miss the big guy, terribly, even now, yet I know he is in a much better place, and I will see my beloved again, one day.
"Yeah, Dad! Fuck your boy!!! Make me know you mean it!"
Honestly, I had never had THIS type of scenario occur for me previously, although I had been frequenting that particular bathhouse for more than fifteen years, at that time, and I was thoroughly enjoying every lust-filled minute!!! That this young man – certainly no more than twenty-two or -three, max – was turned on by this big ol' Daddy-bear, and wanted it THAT badly, had my cock as steel-rod solid as I remembered it being, in years. Bringing my cock nearly out of his poop-chute, each and every time, and plunging it back in with as much force as this then two hundred forty pounder could possibly muster, I was just as happy as a pig in slop, lemme tell ya!!! Not only up and down inside the boy-man, but also back and forth on top of him with my furry torso in nearly-constant contact.
"Oh yeah Dad!!! Love all that fur on my back, man!!! Let me have it!!! Punish me for being a cock-tease!!! Harder, Daddy-bear, harder!!!"
Honestly, I didn't know how much harder I could go, yet I did, in that moment, actually starting to JUMP UP AND DOWN on top of him, keeping my cock fully inserted in his anal tract. My cock was getting a work-out, and the heat in the room was making me perspire, profusely. I knew the inevitable was inching closer, and I was praying I could hold out a little longer, and hoping for MUCH more heavy-duty man-ramming. My cock was in heaven, as the lad's pucker held me tightly, and the thrusting action made him grip my penis even tighter. I knew I couldn't possibly hold out much longer, as the boy's rectum was about to suck my balls dry.
"Keep that cock in your ass, boy. Don't you DARE try to push me out! Take it, boy!!! You want my cum inside you? You want me to unload in your ass, boy?"
"Yeah, Dad!!! Yeah, cream my ass, Dad!!! I want your cum!!!!" And sooner than I would have wanted, "OOOOOOHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK!!! Cuuuuuummmming!!!!"
And with that, his ass snapped down on my cock as his balls emptied their contents onto the cot below us. I was nearly ready when he started to spasm, and with his absolutely loud and gigantic orgasm – thrashing about as he was – he pushed me over the edge and all of my weight landed on top of him with a loud thud as I emptied my balls deep inside the lad.
"RRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!" My growl was loud, absolutely guttural, and I am NOT exaggerating! I think there may have been a few men outside my door in the hallway. Comments like "the boy is getting it from the big guy! Hope he's enjoying it, cause it sounds like the big guy is really fucking the daylights out of im!!!" I smiled, knowing I had created a few men's masturbatory fantasies, probably for quite a while. I'd had audiences in the bathhouse, many times over, in the orgy room, so I wasn't surprised at all that there were men listening in. In fact, I could feel the increasing orgasmic pulses unload heavily into the young man's rectum, until the feeling had me nearly passing out on top of the lad. Some people call it "the little death" for a reason. Now, I know why.
In those moments after starting to empty my baby-makers into the lad, I think I must have been spurting cum for a full thirty seconds or more, before the flow finally began to slow to a trickle.
"Fuuuuuuuck!!! Wow, Dad, THANK YOU!!!! That was absolutely AWESOME!!!!!"
"You're welcome, young man."
When I finally got off him, we got him cleaned up, and he was out the door with a kiss and a wish for the best. He then smiled and kissed me again, and was gone. The adventurous fuck of a lifetime has yet to be repeated, although I know there are more out there, just like him, whose Dad-wish is just as strong, and seeing how some younger men react to seeing THIS bear out in public lets me know that this is – truly – the most gratifyingly complimentary time in my ENTIRE LIFE!!!!! Now I know that all those hours of watching "Bonanza" on TV as a boy, and drooling over Dan Blocker – among other hirsute men I would see – was hardly limited to me. I had plenty of company, even if the admission would never be made by any other boy – gay or not – until well into adulthood. I know there are many who love seeing we "Daddy-bears," and it may one day again be a reality, even if with someone else, and yes, even from men well into their adult years. It's actually kinda surprising, just how many men's faces light up when they see me, how many wide smiles I get, and how many doors are held open for me. The years I had, admiring others, have paid off, quite handsomely [pun intended]! And, admittedly, looking a bit like the jolly old man in red who visits every December doesn't hurt, either!!!
While I am on the subject of Dad-wishes, I gotta admit something that I am not necessarily too proud of, yet very much happened, and as I LEAST expected it to do. The aforementioned partner and I were in the bathhouse one Saturday, and – on a dare of sorts, I expect – he had challenged a very handsome gentleman, older than the both of us and probably closer to my Dad's age, to try to get into my ass, which I had solidly resisted from my partner. Honestly, I did not know it at that time, but figured out on the way home as my partner and I had a major argument, but I had had a wish for my Dad to be intimate with me, for many years, or sub-consciously at least anyway, until that day, when it all became QUITE CLEAR to me! In stature, the man was much like Dad, with a light spray of chest fur, and kinda muscular, yet no overly so. I gave in, and – admittedly – my partner witnessed it. I wouldn't have done it, were my partner not there, figuring if the man tried to hurt me, my partner would have stopped it. Well, I caught "seven kinds of hell," later that day and off and on for the next ten days or so, `cause I would never give it up for him as he was much too large in the cock department to comfortably adjust to, but the memory was fresh, and remains to this day [and yes, still a bit painful to me to know I would not give him that]. I am still pretty-much exclusively a "top," and never had experienced it as a bottom until that day, but the man knew what he was doing, and sufficiently prepared me, before entering me [I guess seeing me, most figure, right away, being a big bear as I am, that I AM exclusively a top, which is correct]. That day, getting fucked didn't hurt, rather, I just felt kinda full, like I was full of that well-known commodity, and needed to take a dump. I felt his ejaculate pulse its way into me, which I didn't know until that moment just what my partner was telling me about, whenever I would fuck him, but I felt the man's cum load shooting into me. I wished later that I could have thanked the man for doing that, as he was a gentle, considerate man, yes, yet, very much the man while inside me. It didn't hurt that he was a small-average hung man, either, as there would have been a lot of pain, had he been any larger in length or girth. Figuring that – were "Mister Right" to walk into my life before I pass on – I would consider it, yes, yet only for the right man, although I don't think it will happen, but if it does, well maybe I could do it, once more, although I am STILL – pretty-much – exclusively a top, and then the man would have to be a very gentle soul, and I could trust him with that, and I hardly expect a man like that to waltz into my life, any time soon. Not saying it won't happen, as it may, yet not expecting it to happen.
As the French say, "C'Est La Vie!!!!" [which means "You can never tell..."]
A final, personal note/caveat, from the author: I would NEVER advise anyone to take any other man's load without confirming his HIV status, first, and that his hygiene habits were exemplary, or – BEST scenario possible – wearing protection in the form of a condom. What I did in the heat of the moment was very irresponsible, and just plainly careless, and I was – somehow – spared from being exposed to any STD, then. For me, the Dad-image fuck mentioned above occurred well into the 1990's, approximately twelve or more years into the AIDS crisis, so I cannot honestly say I wasn't warned about the possibilities of catching HIV. I wasn't high or drunk at the time, either, which is even MORE difficult to admit, yet I readily do so, and hope I cause some to pause and ponder the situation, before acting on their desires. And, I admit all this with some trepidation, yet knowledge that the situation could have very easily turned dangerous for me, in a couple of ways. That stated, however, I also know deep down that the "Dad-wish," for my very own Dad, that is my OWN father-figure, to take me and use me was – and remains – QUITE powerful! To this day, I still wonder how it became such an issue, so VERY quickly, yet it must have been in me for most of my life, maybe ever since I was a baby: I don't honestly know. I do know that I read on this and other websites that I am hardly the only one who has had these thoughts, and am FAR from the first man to act on them! If any man reading this has the same thoughts, I would only encourage all of us to know ourselves well, before acting on this particular wish. It may turn out to be a not-so-good outcome if acted on carelessly, so be aware that it can turn on us, quickly, if we are not well-prepared to defend ourselves: even the physically strongest among us can be tricked into it, and the other man could have someone else waiting in the wings to help him, and help him to turn what we think is a little innocent action into a "gang-rape" situation. Again, if you think "it couldn't/won't happen to me," I can attest to the fact that it can. Watch "Forensic Files" on television for a few weeks, if you don't believe me: even the most remote and peaceful small towns can have evil people living among us, and we don't/won't even know it, until it's too late. Herein, I am trying to turn what can easily turn into something negative into a positive thing, so I hope whoever reads these words at least takes my words into consideration, when going out and looking for the "Dad-experience," for lack of a better term. My best wishes, thoughts and – yes – prayers, too, for all reading these words. May you find one day find your own peace, in this regard, and know you are not alone.
Bearhugs!!! ---Bobby Joe