I was an only child, a boy. When I was 7 my mother died, leaving me to be raised by my father who was then 62. There was a series of live-in housekeepers, but for the most part I raised myself. By the time I was 10, I had learned to cook a Sunday meal. At that time, I used to visit an uncle and aunt. My uncle had a habit of sitting me on his knee and telling me thinly-disguised tales of his sex life, while surreptitiously feeling me up while he talked. He never succeeded in giving me an erection at that young age, but I think he had a few himself when he was feeling me up.
There were other early sexual instances. One teacher came-on to me one time when I was in his car, but I got nervous and ran off. When I was 11 a classmate Robert took me to the corner of the school playing fields where he persuaded me to pull my pants down after which he spent some time wanking me as I wanked him. He had quite a big cock.
I liked how girls looked, but I had no sexual feelings towards them. I did think a lot about cocks, and I felt my body was more girl-like than boy-like. I started pushing various rounded objects up inside me while I masturbated, and quite often use a broom handle with the brush attached. I would rest the brush-end on the bottom of the bed-rail, lie on my belly and ease the tip of the broom handle between my buttocks until it went inside me. I would then push my body back and forth on the broom-handle inside me, fucking myself hard.
When I was 12, I started going to the nearly woods and fields where I would strip naked and leave my clothes under a tree. I would then spends hours walking about naked, hoping some man would see me and rape me. Unfortunately it never happened, and I had to wait until I moved to Cardiff before finding men to have sex with me. More of that in part 2.
