Cloistered Behind The Curtains With My Memories I Tell My Story
I spent the years from 12 to 17 in a foreign land. The customs there provided for having servants in the house. The servants were everywhere, all around, and they saw you in bed, or getting dressed, or naked stepping out of the tub. We had a man servant who was there to drive the car and take care of minor repairs and provide a male presence for security.
He would sneak into my room at night and kiss me and rub my butt under my pajamas, he would lay his hand across my behind and his middle finger in my butt crack pressing down on my butthole. At times he would play with my penis, get me into an erection and suck me 'dry', But most of all he kissed me and made love to me while I fell asleep.
For a man his hands were soft. He had never worked in a factory of a field. He also did the house bookkeeping, managing the household money. He insisted on taking care of me personally, in addition to making love to me at night, he took care of my clothes and what I wore to school, and supervised my homework. When I got my homework right, he gave me great big hugs. I was young but if at that age you can be in love, I was in love.
We left when my father's job demanded we move. We moved to Europe where things were much different, the housing was small, the rooms small, and the service was called in when needed. There was no driver, my mother used a cab when needed. For me, I was far away from Juan Carlos who I missed very much. It was during that year before college that I masturbated until I was sore.
I went to college back home, to a state school with six thousand other students. I was lost, I lived in the men's dormitory, with a couple dozen other boys, the communal showers and toilets, and boys 'showing' off to the other boys. Swinging their penis around as they chased each other with a towel. I was modest and stood with my back to the room when I showered and covered my penis with my hand.
While drying off one day an upper classman took me and while no one noticed fucked me hard across the bench. Other boys came over to have a turn, some others just stood and watched. One boy 'relieved' himself on me in my face. I was given their soiled underwear to wash, changing their sheets that were soiled with their night time emissions. I had errands to complete, and when one needed to his balls emptied, I sucked his penis for him.
In our dorm was another queer, not so effeminate as me, he was older and he taunted me for being queer like I was. He took me as his dorm wife and I had to sleep with him. He never made love, not once, he was forceful and hard when he demanded sex. But I made love to him, bathed him with kisses and soft caresses, like Juan Carlos had made love to me.
Those days are long gone, memories that fill my mind. I never married and had children, denying my father of a name to carry on. My sister had to pull double duty, she had six children because I had none. I had other lovers, but Juan Carlos stands out in my mind. He must be quite old now, but he remains number one in my life.
