Skeletons In The Closet

Just below the surface everyone has secrets. Skeletons in the closet. I would imagine a lot of these are sexual and some of those come out here. My skeleton is not much different. My youth was hum drum. Boring. It wasn't just me, everyone in my small town was bored. For instance my mother was a lush, she played bridge with some other ladies and they used it as an excuse to drink. My mother is by any definition an alcoholic. A drunk. But in our town she was 'tipsy' and liked to have her glass of wine. Vodka was her real juice, she added Vodka to the wine.

My father was a banker. The man who held the strings on businesses and people's lives. Credit was hard to come by, especially in small towns dependent on agriculture. This was before the easy credit of credit cards and people got personal loans. But the businesses were dependent on the Farm and Ranch Bank and my father controlled the strings. He had a young secretary, this was when I was old enough to figure things out, she was his lover. My mother told me. It wasn't 'your father is fucking his secretary'. No it was 'she's very close to your father and he is looking after her'.

I had my secret too. We lived in a large house with a very large back yard which went down to the creek that passed through town. On the other side of the creek was a neighborhood of working class that had developed while I grew up. Down by the creek, I went there growing up to play and explore and met a man who was looking for stuff. We talked and he, well I need to put it lightly, he showed me how much I liked it when he played with my penis and sucked it in his mouth. I liked it very very much. He showed me his penis. I loved holding it in my hands and kissing it and licking it and putting as much of it in my mouth. I went down by the creek to explore and found out I was going to be a cock lover all my life.

You don't just turn on a switch. My mother certainly became a lush over time, by the time she was old she was an alcoholic and a drunk. My father, according to my mother, hired secretaries who were nice to him. He had several after I was old enough to count. Don't think of these secretaries as some 21 year old knock out. They were in their thirties and needed a job and sucking and fucking the boss was job security, I don't blame them. There weren't many opportunities in our small town.

I got busted sucking off one of the other boys at school. Being the one sucking I was labeled appropriately as a queer and the police chief suggested I go out of town to school. No record was kept, my father I'm sure made sure of that. I was sent to a school in Alabama for boys who were incorrigible and I sucked and fucked. Because that was the hierarchy, who sucked who and who fucked who. It was ok with me if I was at the bottom of the heap, the more boys that fucked me the better it was for me.

I 'never married', as far as my small town was considered I just never met the right girl. It's because I went to California and designed furniture for a living. It was a blast during those days when sex was all around you. To be fair I tried pussy, but it wasn't for me. I was pretty much into cock. The bigger the better, a big hard cock in my hand was all I wanted. So what if he used me, I got fucked and who can argue with that. Of course when I went back to my hometown I behaved myself and looked like a prosperous furniture designer. People had forgotten or never knew why I went away to that school in Alabama.

My parents are long gone, I sold off the properties they owned, on the property with the house I grew up in a small multifamily townhouse development is there now. Down by the creek is a running trail build with government money. I'm sure that now and then a young man running may meet a man who shows him his dick and the the circle starts over. Another skeleton in a closet. Pretty much everyone has one.