New guest
Submitted by Martin on October 30 2001 02:11:49
|
Well, here I sit in an internet cafe after discovering this site at home the other day. Man, I've been so nervous about accessing it, and now I have to post from a long way away so I don't get caught, and I'm paranoid the boss of the store has a separate terminal that he's reading this on, and gonna call the copz . . . . ARRGGHH!! At home I had to painstakingly delete all the history items so my wife and kids wouldn't discover this site or any of the links. Whew. And I don't know WHEN I'll be able to check up on any replies to this. I'm only here, a long way from home for a meeting tonight. So, I'm a doctor, Christian, ex-missio too. I'm definitely a boylover and have been for about thirty years! I love teens - just the number 15 especially, even turns me on. I love the "pretty boys" - their soft brown skin, their beautiful faces, their laughing eyes. and yet, all my life I have been bound with the obession of HAVING to look at them, to stare at them, to long for them, fantasise about them. So often it has been almost unendurable agony. I was molested (gently and enjoyably - almost worse than roughly) when I was young, and then when I was 17 and plagued with guilt over my compulsive wanking (masturbation) (it was great the first time, but filled with shame every time after), I went to a public toilet after school, for a wank, and there was a brick missing from the wall, and the guy next door was wanking and had the most gorgeous dick and I was very turned on . . . . and thus developed an addiction that soon became quite overwhelming - I was always driving to toilets all over the place to get a look at all thaose beautiful bodies. But I was always longing most for a beautiful boy body, in the prime of youth, with soft young skin, a manly dick, fresh young hair. OHHHH.... I had a girlfiend, and eventually blurted it all out to her, and she was really compassionate, and loving and kind, etc,etc, we ended up getting married, thinking that would cure everything. Despite a great love life, it all still continued. I was always drooling after the boys. Not usually sexually, just wanting to hold them, comfort them, and I think be accepted by them as I never was by other boys when I was their age - I was the nerd, they were the cool surfies (Oh, do I LOVE surfer boys!)I was forever at public loos after work, etc. We went as missionaries overseas for three years, and I fell in love (and lust) with the boys there, had to come back because it all got to much and I confessed to the misssion psychiatrist ... I cracked up with depression and was in and out of hospital .... still managed to work as a doctor thru some of it, but again was always drooling after the boys I saw, and yes, sometimes even examined parts I didn't necessarilty have to examine. Kept going to church - always longed thru all of this that God would heal me of this bondage (ever since the wanking got hold of me [so to speak]), always wanted to be pure and holy, longed for Jesus to be the centre of my life and be always conscious of him, .... but so often, my mind would be full of the beautiful boys around me, and I had to struggle so hard to get my mind on God. I went to ministries to try to be freed of all this stuff, and they did help. Went to shrinks and therapists (for 13 years now - almost continually), pleading with them to help me not fall in love with every boy I saw on the street, on TV (Oh, Leonardo, Dawson's Ck, swimming at the Olympics, ads with gorgeous young Adonises, . . .) in magazines, and now, of course on the net, in all their huge and naked glory. Thank God I have never got more overt with any boys - I often fantasised about paying a pretty boy on the street to come with me to the bush and watch me wank. Sigh . . . And now here I am, husband, father of 3 kids, (17, 16 & 12 - the two younger ones boys, who THANK GOD I have never ever allowed myself to even have a suggestion of that sort of feeling towards them).But at church there are the special boys I love, and over the tears I've got to know them and befriend them. I was even so bold the other day to go over to them, put my arms around their shoulders (they're about 16 now), and say "How are two of my favourite boys?" ! At a church men's camp last year, I was having a shower and someone next to me was too, and after I'd finished, he did too and came out just in shorts, and was my FAVOURITE boy, Joshua. "so near and yet so far", I thought. I could've got a look at him in the nude, thru a crack in the door or over the top of the shower, and wanked with his beautiful body in my memory. Sigh. Sorry about being so explicit, I'm just pouring out the anguish and agony of my paralysing obsession that plagues me so continously. Of course I have a very hard time relating to God thru all of this, with the guilt and shame, and anger that he hasn't got rid of it despite all my years and years of pleading and pleading. And yes, I know I'm forgiven, but I have gone on (not so much now) again and again and again. Just this afternoon I was a loo on the way here, and a yougish guy was wanking, and it was such a turn-on ... but now I never let them touch me because my wife has said she won't sleep with me if I do, etc etc, which is fair enough - she always forgave me and stuff before, but now she's been advised to keep her boundaries clear and all that. Last year I fell in a period of huge stress after I'd been in hospital for 8 months, and she 'banished' me from our bedroom for months - every night the door closed against me. It hurt SO much, and I know she hurt too, but it was too much for me and I tried to kill myself (the first time since i was 11), but it didn't fucking work, and should've fucking worked, because I'm a doctor, and should supposedly know how to do it. So, here I am, still angry that I didn't die, and wishing I could somehow be glad I am alive. I've been back at work part-time, but summer's coming on now, and the boys are starting to show more skin around the streets, .... and I love them all so much - no, just the pretty ones - how selfish and lustful is that. I fall in love 100 times a day, and my heart breaks 100 times a day as I have to drive on, or turn away, or the video clip on TV flashes off.. Sorry if this isn't the stuff I'm sposed to say, but I've had too much for too long. |
Follow ups: