When I was 8 years old, my babysitter turned 11 and began to explore my body.  I am told it was abuse, but it was the happiest time of my life.  She was someone I could share anything with and although I could tell that I did not understand what we were doing the same way she understood it, I felt I was learning something adult.  She clearly considered it to be sex.  For me it was just intimacy though and through this I learned the joy of just having someone to sleep beside me.

She told me a lot about boys and although I did not understand much of it, I remembered much of it until I could understand it.  For this I am grateful.  I still love the intimacy we shared and the joy of her grasping my lips with hers while I grasped her lips with mine.  I still love to eat.  I still live for that love.

semiretired semiretired
51-55, F
Jul 18, 2007