I don't really regard myself as a writer, but a few years ago, when I was in school, I always got good marks for my written English. So, as I have a story to tell that a few people might be interested in, I thought I'd try my hand at telling about my short life so far.
I'm gay. Please don't ask me why. I think I know why but I'm not certain. I can be quite friendly towards girls but they are in no way special to me. If I didn't see one for a month I wouldn't worry.
On the other hand, I really like guys. I like their company, I like talking to them and playing games with them. Some even appeal to me in a sexual way. I fancy them. This is not something that happened suddenly; I've just grown up with it.
I have a strong suspicion that the main reason I'm gay is because I was sexually abused by my mother, and other women, as a young child. I remember some of the things she used to do to me when I must have been about four. I think this is a fairly accurate dating as I started school shortly afterwards.
When I talked with other boys at school it became obvious to me that their mothers didn't do to them what my mother was doing to me. As I got a bit older I realised that my mother mostly bathed me when my father wasn't in the house. Sometimes "Aunty" Mary would help her to bathe me, or some other "aunt". I grew to dislike them all with their luvvy-dovey kissing, sucking and fondling. It was all pseudo-love!
Then came the day when my father arrived home early and unexpectedly. My mother had just bathed me and had laid me on a towel on the bed, naked, while she and "Aunty" Mary lay on each side. My father suddenly came into the room unannounced and saw what they were doing to me.
Although I was quite young, I realised that he was furious. He ordered both women downstairs while he dried me and dressed me. Then he took me to my room and told me to stay there until he came back. I could hear the row coming from downstairs. I couldn't hear the words, but there was a sudden bang of the front door and as my father returned to the lounge I heard him shout, "And that woman is never to come into this house again." Then I heard the word "police" mentioned and I heard my mother crying.
But, after that day, she stopped her sexual abuse and my life became fairly normal. I think all this is the reason that I now really like men - my father was my saviour, and why I am not at all keen on women - my mother was my abuser.
As I grew up I realised that, according to all the stories in the media, it was men who were supposed to be the abusers, so I made enquiries and discovered that almost two-thirds of child abuse is by women. This did not improve my opinion of them.
But enough of my dim and distant past; I have more pleasant stories of more recent years.
I did well at school especially when I was in the charge of a male teacher. My art teacher, Mr Roberts, really encouraged me and I excelled in the subject. It's not surprising then that when I left school I applied to go to art college and was accepted.
Being a nineteen-year-old lad away from home, I looked around for things to do in the evenings, and one day I happened to pass a fitness club. I went into the doorway and inside were some advert boards with pictures of young men with attractive bodies, doing all sorts of exercises. I'd done a bit of running that day in college and I was feeling a bit stiff, so I thought a club like this might help to keep me in good shape.
I was about to leave, when the door into the club was opened by a young man dresed in shorts and a T-shirt. He smiled at me and stood with his hands on his hips.
"Interested in joining?" he asked.
"Well... I hesitated, "I might be. I've never been in a club like this. Can you tell me a bit about it?"
"Come into my office and I'll do just that." He held the door open for me.
We walked a short distance down a passageway and into a small office. We shook hands. "I'm Terry and I run this place," he said motioning me to an armchair to the side of his desk.
"Hi! I'm Martin." I sat down. I looked at this pleasant young guy as he lifted a file and took something out. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties, good-looking and with a slim firm-looking body. I iinstantly found him attractive; not that there is anything unusual in that as far as me and men are concerned.
Then he handed me a folded brochure. "OK Martin, this tells you all about the club, opening times, equipment and the cost of membership. We have sessions for men, women and some mixed."
I ran my eye over the brochure. "You have quite a lot of equipment," I ventured. "And I see you have reduced rates for students. I'm glad about that."
Terry laughed. "I gather you're a student then."
"That's right. I've recently started in the art college - fine art and photography."
Terry looked more expansive and leaned forward on his desk. "Interesting! They happen to be two of my interests. In fact I attend a life class in the evenings at the college. Like a coffee?"
I accepted the offer and while we drank it we chatted about our interests.
Then Terry rose to his feet." Would you like to have a look round before you make up your mind to join?"
"I'd love to," I replied.
Terry looked at his watch. "We have a men's session on at the moment but they'll all be finished in half an hour."
He led me into the main hall which was filled with all manner of weights equipment, cycling and walking machines and so on. We passed through a small cafetria and then into a shower room where I could hear a few guys in the curtained-off showers. A small room led off this.
"This is the medical and massage room," explained Terry. "As you can iimagine, we get the odd accident and strain. I'm a qualified masseur which is quite useful. Quite a few of the guys overdo it and require a rub-down."
I smiled at him. "I know the feeling," I said.
Terry smiled back at me. "Have you been overdoing it then?"
"No, no, not really. I did a bit of running in college today and I've stiffened up. Not used to it I suppose."
By now quite a number of the men were packing their bags and leaving with shouts of "Cheers Terry. See you!" and so on.
We walked back in the direction of Terry's office where we sat down again. "Well, so what d'you think of my little club?" he smiled.
"It looks like just what I need to keep me in trim and stop me getting stiff. Yes, I'd like to join." I didn't say so, but I thought it would be worth joining to see more of this older guy.