Sweeter Stuff

The first year of ‘high school’ – well it was an awkward time.  I felt ugly, I was terribly near-sighted and I needed glasses.  I had these lumpy glasses to wear but I didn’t use them unless I was in class and had to read or see the board.  Otherwise I took them off, so as a consequence, I was usually wandering around in a complete daze.  I didn’t really even know how my face looked without those glasses, except for very close up, as I refused to wear them.  I had full breasts and hips though, and a very small waist – that hourglass thing… and everyone sure noticed me.

Now this: this could never happen nowadays, but I recall several of the male teachers standing in the hallway sometimes, talking to each other, and I saw them give me very obvious ‘looks’ when I walked past them.  Usually I was with one of my friends.  Once, when a couple of us girls saw that blatant look from one of those teachers, we looked at each other, smirking, and I remember saying aloud to my friend, “But he’s married!” 

He heard me – and actually answered, laughing: “But I still have eyes!”

Oh, I know that nowadays he would be sued in a heartbeat!  But then, no-one said or did a thing about incidents or comments like that.

Rudy B.

When I walked home in the afternoon, this guy, Rudy B, from the Catholic school across the street, one day just started walking with me. He was about a year or two older than me.  He was very sweet and I liked him.  He was polite and kind and he seemed to like me – a lot.  Rudy was from Trinidad, West Indies.  He was black and yes, he was very beautiful.  He was tall and strongly-built, with well defined muscles.  He had a voice like strong coffee with thick cream, husky rich, so sweet sounding, with a lilting, charming accent.  His skin was dark, a deep golden brown and so smooth, and his body was so fine, he moved with such grace and confidence. 

He just got into the habit of walking me all the way home, and usually there was no-one there in the afternoon.  We went inside the flat on Belvedere Street, and immediately he began kissing me.  It was wonderful, the way he kissed!  His mouth was so warm and he rubbed his lips on mine for so long and it was all so sweetly passionate and it literally made the juice pour down between my thighs.  It soaked my panties! 

He was gentle and so chivalrous.  He would say, “Can I kiss you again?”  Ahh! So sweet!  He never tried to take any of my clothes off, but he touched me all over and kissed me all over and I loved it. He always had a big hard-on and I wanted to touch it so much – but he was so proper – he never took it out of his pants at all.  At least not at first – he must have suffered with that! 

For several weeks, all we ever did was kiss and caress each other for about an hour after school, at my place.  My parents never knew about him. Then, one day, he asked me to go downtown with him. Wow! A date!  I think I was thirteen.  I met him at the corner store on Saturday and we walked all the way downtown. We ate sandwiches at a coffeehouse, and then going home, we walked along Parklane Avenue and we decided to just hang around by the gazebo in the park.  It was Autumn and it was getting dark early.  We stood by the trees, full of gorgeous colors and we kissed luxuriously for a long time.  He told me he loved me.  He was so hard, and I was so wet!  At last, he let me touch his penis. He unbuttoned his pants and it poked its head out of his underwear. I looked. He was circumcised!  I knew the difference between penises which were and penises which weren’t – and I do recall that I was very surprised, since he was not Jewish!  

He was so sweet about everything we did – he never forced himself on me in any way.  We simply had a delicious, lovely time in the park.  But that day, he took me back right to my door, since it was already very dark.  When he took me home, my mother was upset.  You see, that year, I had started my period, and the issues with me and boys were at whole new level. So she paid attention! Neighbors had told her about Rudy and she was not pleased that I had never told her anything.  She said to him that my father would be back home soon and would be angry.  She told Rudy not to come to our house anymore. Poor Rudy! So polite, he simply nodded and said, “I am so very sorry, Madame, I won’t bother your family again.” 

When my father came home, my mother told him about Rudy.  Surprisingly, my father did not get furious.  He must have been especially tired that day.  But he also did not know that Rudy had shown me his penis!  However, he did say never to do anything with a boy without his permission.   And of course, I obeyed that rule.  Always. Ah, well – No!! Not for a second!

Ah, Rudy! Still I have this lovely memory of him, what a sweet guy… 

Billy L. from Point Charleston

This fellow, the way we met was all because of another prank phone call.  Oh, yes, I made these calls often – I would just dial random numbers or find various ones in the big old phone directory.  One day this young male voice answered and of course he was instantly engaged in the phone games!  His name was Billy L. and he lived in Point Charleston, a tougher area of town which – in my circle – was considered dangerous and forbidden and very ‘English’. So his clearly ‘English’ Canadian accent sounded ‘different’ and therefore it was appealing to me right off.  He also sounded ‘older’ but obviously he was a young guy. He told me he was 19 and asked my age; I said I was 17. I wasn’t.

He wanted to meet me, so I agreed to meet him downtown at a popular coffee house. He described what he ‘looked like’ and what he’d be wearing and I went.  When I saw him I was instantly intrigued!  He was at a table, smoking, wearing a leather jacket with an emblem of a skull on it!  He had on blue jeans and boots.  He had very straight jet black hair and very white, pallid skin.  He was short and wiry-skinny, with crude, hard, thin features and an expression of wary toughness. He seemed to know who I was the second he looked at me. He stood up and motioned me to his table with a swing of his head.  We had coffee and some pastries.  He said, “You ain’t 17, air ya?”

“I will be next month.”  Total lie.

He laughed. “Oh, ok – wanna ride on my cycle?”

We went outside and he had a motorcycle!  Wow!  I was thrilled and also very nervous!  But I got on behind him and we drove for quite a while, me clutching his body with all my might till my arms and hands hurt.  I kept my eyes totally shut tight the whole time.  I was utterly terrified at every turn and every tilt of that machine!

We went to an apartment that he said was his, but it was way far downtown someplace.  It was sparsely furnished and I have no idea where it was, or who it really belonged to, but it had a record player.  He put on some old classic records of Rock n Roll music – ‘Bee Bop a Lula’ and ‘Love letters in the Sand’ and ‘My Prayer’ – and others I really liked.  We slow-danced to the music and he started kissing me. We were embracing and he was kissing me pretty hard. He really smelled stale and smoky and his hair was all greasy – and suddenly I wanted to get away as fast as I could!   I got scared of him, and oddly he did not seem to make me feel ‘hot’ or anything close. Unlike my usual helpless behavior in such situations, I – amazingly – spoke up!  I was alarmed and actually said, “It’s getting late! I have to be back home!  Please, I have to go home!”   One of the rare times I actually asked someone to ‘stop’ – sort of!

He pulled away from me and said, “Yeah, you ain’t worth it.”  He took me back to the corner of Parklane Avenue and I walked back home from there.  But again, I marvel at how easily he COULD have done pretty much anything to me, and by the grace of God – he did nothing. 

The Parklane Gazebo and Guy F.

In the warm weather, my close friend Denise and I always went to the Parklane Gazebo to hang out.  We invariably met young men there, who were usually way older than us, and we all flirted and we pretty much always necked or even petted a bit with any of these guys who tried it.  Again – our parents had NO idea where we went or with whom.   We climbed on the huge bronze sculptures of various figures of history or myth and it was fun.   I met one young man there, named Guy F.  (pronounced like ‘Ghee’) He was French Canadian, very cute, very blond, very short.  He was not much taller than me!  He was really a sweet, charming fellow, so very lovable, so good-natured –and he told me he loved me and wanted to marry me!  Ha-ha!  He surely was so appealing, and oh, I really did like him – but as for marriage – oh no! Not yet! He had a photo of his mother, his beloved ‘Maman’ who had birthed 18 (yes 18!) children, and still looked trim and able. We met many times by the park and I always was very happy to be with him.  

One night, Guy took me behind some trees and spread a nice blanket on the ground.  We lay down on it and kissed and petted heavily for awhile.  Then he really got serious and took out his penis, which was both thick and long, all ready for me. I suppose I must have looked a bit scared, so he did not push himself on me.  He might have lost control, done bad things. But, no, he was chivalrous and treated me very kindly.

And I was excited, fascinated by his penis and I touched it. Guy was in pure ecstasy with my hand on it – he seemed to come almost immediately! I was somewhat surprised – but I truly was not afraid of him. Somehow, I felt more in control of these events than I was with anything else I can recall at that age.  But because I actually said I would not marry him, we ‘broke up’ after a few months of these secret sex-in-the-dark games.

A few thoughts on things...

I have to say this: I am sure I was being protected by a higher power.  I feel I was then and I feel I am now being watched over, since I had gotten into and been led into and pushed into and fallen into SO very many POSSIBLE risky situations. Yet I emerged relatively unharmed, and I find that quite incredible. 

And while I openly agree that I was mis-used and also surely ab-used by so many men, I also had some sweet as honey times with darling, kind, gentle, beautiful young guys and men. These experiences nurtured the ‘romance’ in my soul – they caused the deep and gentle implantation of the tender seeds of a beautiful wish for a ‘prince charming’, true love and the joy of sweetly dreaming of some real wonder of a man who would sweep me off my feet, ravish me ‘softly’ (ha-ha) and be loving and kind too! And thankfully, that has happened to me as well!  So I just love men, and I always will!

Published by rozhinka

I am a writer, artist and a woman who is exploring and reflecting on many things. In writing this very personal Diary of Secrets and Fantasies, I am looking backwards in trying to understand myself - and I am looking forward in exploring new paths of pleasure and possibilities. It's a precarious and precious journey. It's already been quite surprising - and often shocking.

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