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I don't like mustard: childhood stuff II

When I was around that same age, perhaps a little younger, perhaps a little older, it's hard to say. My mom was working, and as working moms do, had to find some kind of childcare situation for my infant sister and I.

One of them was the house of a lady named Grace, and her hellion son who was about my age. I can't remember his name so we'll call him Jared. I had never met a kid up to that point who was such a damn troublemaker.

Once we had hot dogs for lunch. When I told him that I didn't like mustard he seemed genuinely surprised. He told me to close my eyes. While my eyes were closed, he put mustard on my hot dog. When I opened my eyes, I wailed to Grace, and she graciously replaced my hot dog with a new, mustardless one.

"Close your eyes," he said again.

"No!" I said, "You'll put mustard on my hot dog!"

"No I won't," he said, "just close your eyes."

I closed my eyes, and again he put mustard on my hot dog. I was shocked by such deceit. I complained, and was again given a fresh hot dog.

"Close your eyes."

You may find it hard to believe, but he somehow smoothly talked me into trusting him a third time, and of course put mustard on my hot dog. This time grace had less sympathy and told me I was stuck with the hot dog. I think he tried it next time we had hot dogs and I told him to go to hell, but what does this have to do with sex, you're wondering...

Well, it's just to sort of set up what kind of guy Jared was. One time I walked downstairs in the middle of a game Jared was playing, involving one other participant, and several spectators, of which I was soon one.

There was a girl laying on the floor, and I guess the pretense was that she wasn't aware that Jared was gradually pulling down her pants. She had her eyes closed. He would tell her to turn over, and then he would scoot down her pants just a tiny little bit, and then have her turn over again. I think the idea was that he was doing it SO gradually, that she couldn't detect that her little bits would soon be showing.

Now unlike haunted house, which was just sort of sybaritic pleasure, this was a genuine sexual thrill. I remember my excitement at the idea that we were going to see this girl's business, and she wasn't going to know about it. He did get her pants most of the way down by the time the game was interrupted, and I can remember even now the intense hot feeling in my chest that I have had many times since.

In retrospect the girl must have been a willing participant, in the same way I was a willing participant in having mustard put on my hot dog the third time, but I wonder if she enjoyed herself?

Comments

YO! the comenst look great. hehe

Hmm. Odd how no one's commenting much on these stories. Maybe everyone is busy recalling their own tales of sexual experiences. I know I am. Not sure if I would publish them in my blog, though. I'll have to think about that.

That's cause the tinyblog is SO HARD CORE!!! hehehe...really though, I'm going to have a couple of guest posters, so we'll see, and I may trump these stories, we shall see

Lard Jesus, I didn't even start *wanking* until I was about 10 years older than you were in this here story. Pretty strait-laced environment I grew up in -- but fear not, I've accumulated stories since.

I have to say - this one made my chest tighten up - but not for the same reasons yours did, I guess.

I don't mind reading this stuff, Daniel, but I tell ya, this is digging up some of my own experiences which I've tried to bury over the last few years - good and bad (boy, would those be stories to share - and I've got more than I'd like to admit to!)

I think you're very brave for putting this stuff out for all of us to see. Kind gives me a little hope to grow a better backbone ;)

Know what I find interesting? All of the stories I've heard about men being *terrifed* of their first orgasms/ejaculations. They literally thought their bodies were breaking down, that they were going to die, etc. I find that very odd in this day and age...