good men

At a very early age, I learned what would become of my sexuality. Frustration, the inability to comfortably orgasm, and constant guilt is the only thing I know of sex. Most of my life has been spent hiding my sexual energy, while the last three years of my first and only relationship has been spent trying to hide my pain with lies. As I closed my eyes to the pain, I forced myself to have wild crazy sex, dead to my own feelings of angst.

I wanted to be the girl he couldn’t keep his hands off of, even though it was his hands that terrified me the most. His hands tortured me with pain and pleasure. One moment I’m completely under the spell of his pleasure and the next, I’m back at age four, being violated again and again, by those whom I was supposed to be able to trust. I’m so lucky to have him, another man might continue without a care or bolt when I start to sob, but he just holds me… protecting, loving and comforting.