Haven't been able to confess something that happened to me in my childhood when I was aged 5. The dark truth came out when I was 12 after I told my mum finally that grandad had been touching me and had been since I was about 5; that part isn't what I will confess here.

What I could never tell is how much I liked it. I know this isn't unusual in cases of sexual abuse and it's that which can cause such guilt in later life. For me though when I think of the things he did, now aged 35, I come so hard and quick when I think of how he rubbed my tush when I was little.

The first time he m****ted me was in his house in the bathroom when my dad had gone to the pub. He watched me pull down my knickers to sit on the toilet. He asked if he could show me how to wipe properly. He took some tissue and opened my legs across the toilet. He began to rub my privates gently and asked if it felt ok. I nodded feeling confused as I recall but I wanted him to carry on. He started to rub harder and faster and I didn't want him to stop it.

After that time he offered to mind me all the time. As the abuse continued and got more perverted I got used to it and ashamed to say I that by aged 7 I would sometimes ask him to suck my tush ( as he liked to call it). I would stand up naked in front of him and he would bend down to suck it. I knew the familiar sound when he pulled his zipper down that meant to open my mouth with my tongue out. He would squirt very fast I remember. The sad thing is I felt happy like I had done something good.

He never actually had full sex with me but by the end after years of m****ting me he was fucking my mouth pretty vigorously. It is this memory that I masturbate to mostly and still hear him huffing and puffing away. I could never tell a sole person that He gave me the best fucks of my life.

He did time in prison and he is not mentioned within the family and no idea where he is now. I know it's sick to hope that he thinks of me and what he did.