Admitting I was excited (Trigger warning)
Winterfr3sh
Registrant
Hey MS.
Before I type this, I want to just say thank you. I admire the men on here who tell their stories, their truth, and the many other helpful men whose replies often deeply touch me. It’s inspiring and sometimes I wish I were more like them; they are so giving whereas I seem to offer less (guilty conscience).
I am actually still in the middle of so much at therapy. Marriage, new jobs, my gay feelings, working with sweet kids. So i am still in the middle of huge stuff.
Anyways, in therapy big bits and pieces have been being recovered. One revelation involves my lost feelings at the times of my molestation. Feelings that were rapid and overwhelming as they occurred, feelings inaccessible due to disassociation during it.
**Trigger Warning**
-When he touched my penis, I was very erect. I was rock hard.
-When he was approaching me, inching his way into my pants, part of me was excited.
-When he breathed heavily, and exhaled in apparent pleasure, part of me was touched and liked giving him pleasure. I even squeezed my dick for him several times,
simulating ejaculation, which made him breathe out so hard and grunt.
-When he put my hand in his pants, part of me was curious and liked feeling him. I was feeling his balls, but he quickly took my hand and directed me to start jerking his big dick.
-Yes he had a very big one. And it took over a decade to connect his big dick and his grunts of pleasure with the fact that I was drawn to that type of pornography - male domination with a big dick.
-When we had that sleepover, part of me was anticipating what he’d try to do to me that night. And yes he tried to finger my asshole.
-When years later he slapped my ass, smiled, and breathed heavily, part of me felt flattered
So with all the above facts in mind, I came to realize some more things:
-He was the first person who I knew sexually desired me
-he was the first person who ever touched me sexually
-he was the first person who I ever touched sexually
-he never asked permission. He just did it. He never asked how I was doing.
-I was so confused and tormented holding it in
-I wasn’t ready for this. I was too young to give consent.
-I’m mad.
I’m also mad that I couldn’t process some of this until over a decade later.
This will probably make my therapist proud, posting this.
ok I’m tired now.
Before I type this, I want to just say thank you. I admire the men on here who tell their stories, their truth, and the many other helpful men whose replies often deeply touch me. It’s inspiring and sometimes I wish I were more like them; they are so giving whereas I seem to offer less (guilty conscience).
I am actually still in the middle of so much at therapy. Marriage, new jobs, my gay feelings, working with sweet kids. So i am still in the middle of huge stuff.
Anyways, in therapy big bits and pieces have been being recovered. One revelation involves my lost feelings at the times of my molestation. Feelings that were rapid and overwhelming as they occurred, feelings inaccessible due to disassociation during it.
**Trigger Warning**
-When he touched my penis, I was very erect. I was rock hard.
-When he was approaching me, inching his way into my pants, part of me was excited.
-When he breathed heavily, and exhaled in apparent pleasure, part of me was touched and liked giving him pleasure. I even squeezed my dick for him several times,
simulating ejaculation, which made him breathe out so hard and grunt.
-When he put my hand in his pants, part of me was curious and liked feeling him. I was feeling his balls, but he quickly took my hand and directed me to start jerking his big dick.
-Yes he had a very big one. And it took over a decade to connect his big dick and his grunts of pleasure with the fact that I was drawn to that type of pornography - male domination with a big dick.
-When we had that sleepover, part of me was anticipating what he’d try to do to me that night. And yes he tried to finger my asshole.
-When years later he slapped my ass, smiled, and breathed heavily, part of me felt flattered
So with all the above facts in mind, I came to realize some more things:
-He was the first person who I knew sexually desired me
-he was the first person who ever touched me sexually
-he was the first person who I ever touched sexually
-he never asked permission. He just did it. He never asked how I was doing.
-I was so confused and tormented holding it in
-I wasn’t ready for this. I was too young to give consent.
-I’m mad.
I’m also mad that I couldn’t process some of this until over a decade later.
This will probably make my therapist proud, posting this.
ok I’m tired now.