Delilah – more from “…flirting with girls”

Here’s the next excerpt from Sometimes I think I’m flirting with girls:

This one was about Delilah and would have been a bit of a retrospective. She was from my grade school/middle school years. I think she had a significant influence over the development of my sexuality. I don’t mean my sexual orientation, but my sexuality. (More on this idea later.) Here it is as originally written:

Delilah. There’s so much to tell about Delilah and I. For two years she was absolutely everything to me. She was my best friend and we had a good friendship. We shared everything and talked about anything and did lots of things together. Everyone knew we were best friends. We were constantly joking about sexual things together. Most of the time she was joking with me and I joked that it was turning me on. Often times I talked to her about it but she either didn’t understand or ignored it. I never knew. We had serious touching like hugs in the morning and hair touching and I often rubbed her back. These things were nice and made me feel good. But it was the sexual jokes that excited me. I looked forward to them and they happened all the time. Sometimes they were verbal or expressions. Sometimes they were touching. Most of the time they were made obviously a joke and other times they weren’t acknowledged. In art class I remember almost every time we were cleaning up I made sure I went to the sink before her. She would then come up from behind (a very weak side of me) and put an arm on either side and stand against me to wash her hands. Sometimes she’d even blow in my ear or make fake moaning sounds. My reaction, like my usual reaction to her joking, was an embarrassment for her behaviours and a squirming or I’d say, “Oh Delilah, will you stop it!” But I waited for these times. I loved it.

One time she made an entire sandwich with me pressed against the counter like that. At the same time I thought the sandwich would never be done, I didn’t want it to. We used to wrestle a lot too. She always won. I don’t know if I could have beat her because I never really tried. After a small struggle she would have me down on my back and she would sit on me and hold my hands above my head. This was winning. She’d hold me there for a long time while I was supposedly trying to escape. This was a major turn on for me.

One time she hand-cuffed me to my bed. I couldn’t believe it! She just tickled me to death. Often times when we were sitting in silence she would throw herself back and say, “Take me, I’m yours. Do what you want to me.” I always felt a lot when she said this but never said anything unless I was joking back.

Joking one time we decided to make a contract up about that. I wrote it neatly with a calligraphy pen. It said, “I hereby promise to allow <my name inserted here> to do anything she wants to me.” Then she signed it and it has been a reference for joking ever since and I used to read it over and over.

There is a section here that I will re-tell in greater detail later.

Three specific times I almost lost control of myself. Once I was playing a card game with her and her mother and she was sticking her bare foot up and down my pant-leg. Another time she pulled me off the floor and held our waists together and ran her hands up and down my thighs a few times. Another time I really lost it was in a movie theater. We were with a huge group of friends and the movie the others wanted to see was horribly boring. Well, Delilah started blowing in my ear and touching my neck and asking if it was turning me on. I kept trying to get away from her by leaning way over to the other side and ignoring her but then she’d just lean over too and get louder. That was really embarrassing because the people around us were noticing. I’d whisper that to her and she’d just laugh. She didn’t care. She’d just pull me back over to her side and continue teasing me.

As I read this now and write it down here I can’t help but wonder how I continued to take full responsibility for the “real” sexual energy between us! Clearly she was a participant. Well, not only a participant – but really the instigator! Because she was so “boy-crazy” I guess I continued to blame myself.

Sigh. Those sure were good times though…

Meckenzie – more from “…flirting with girls”

Here’s the next excerpt from Sometimes I think I’m flirting with girls:

I flirt with Meckenzie by complimenting her all the time. I tell her how beautiful she looks and how much I like to hear her speak and how much I admire her. Once when asked how I thought she did during cheer-leading practice, I told her in a note that I couldn’t stop watching her because she moves so well. That was embarrassing and I shocked myself. She liked it, was shocked a little, but she seemed flattered.

She’s what I would call sexy. It’s mostly her manners and her personality. I think she’s pretty. She has very nice legs. I would watch her a lot in English and she knows it. She often turns and gives me the biggest smile! I love her smiles. I told her that one time. I also told her I liked eye contact so I think that’s why she looks at me so much.

My fantasy is not very intense but very pleasant: We are leaving History class and I’m ahead of her as usual. I look back at her one last time to see if I can get a goodbye and she says, “Hey, come here. I want to talk to you about something” Then she turns and walks around the corner of the building where no one is. I follow her very curious. When I get around the corner she takes my arm and says, “I see the way you look at me and I know you feel a lot for me. I really like it when you share your thoughts with me and say you admire me. Well, I feel for you too. I’m really attracted to you and I live to get a smile from you and that something special in your eyes. You say I’m sexy? Well, you are too. Anytime you want to get together and talk about it you let me know, OK?” Before I can answer she hugs me and bites my ear. Then she giggles and walks aways just leaving me there shocked.

My favorite part about this story is the fact that the climax to my fantasy is that Meckenzie is offering to “talk” to me about my feelings any time I want! This story just continues the theme of wanting my feelings to be accepted. In this case she admits to feeling for me too. I can still feel what it was like when she did take my arm while she was talking to me… *sigh*

“Sometimes I think I’m flirting with girls.”

I’ve started hunting around in my garage for some juicy relics to use for this project. I’ve always saved everything, but that doesn’t mean I remember that I have it or where it has been stashed. Tonight I went down looking for a particular diary I know exists. Instead I found the most amazing piece of a journal. I say piece because it’s about 15 pages that has been carelessly torn out of something. Part of the binding is left on the edges of the paper and a whole corner is disconnected, simply hanging by bits of tape. It’s dated 10-14-86. It’s clearly some kind of self-confessional binge. As soon as I saw the first line I knew I had discovered a personal treasure. Here’s how it starts (word for word and unedited):

Sometimes I think I’m flirting with girls. I touch them a lot on the arms or hands or shoulders while I’m talking to them. Sometimes I touch their hair if I am really enjoying myself. I use lots of eye contact and look a little deeper than most would. Sometimes I even send a sexy look and inside I am secretly hoping they will notice it. Or sometimes if someone really smiles at me I let myself get embarrassed and show it by quickly turning away and smiling shyly. Some girls I know joke about sexually being attracted to me. I really pick up on this and love it. If they say stuff to me I sometimes literally get turned on. I hardly seem to joke back except with my eyes. I feel uncomfortable joking back but I like being joked with. I guess it’s safe because anything real can be hidden with a laugh.

Some of my friends that I flirt with seem to flirt back after awhile. I like this. I look forward to it and start it sometimes. I tickle a lot and in turn am tickled. Some people that I know feel uncomfortable with touching but can tickle all they want to it seems.

I have one friend, Jolene, who will tickle me rather roughly and daringly and often times leans her whole body against mine or “accidently” pulls me around her. I love these moments. She’s so soft and cuddly and I don’t get excited but I get warm all over and what I want is simply a continuation of what is goin on. This is a person who isn’t very comfortable with hugs. I have my fantasies about her though.

They always take place at her house. We are looking deeply into each other’s eyes, as we often do, and my feelings and desire to be touched starts really growing. I finally look away because I can’t stand it anymore. She asks me what’s wrong and all I have to do it glance at her again and she knows. She says something like, “Hey it’s okay. You know you can feel anything you want to and express it to me.” Well then I am so full of emotion I can’t move and I feel like crying. She comes over to me and takes my hand. It feels so good but I can’t take it back. She takes me down the hall and into her room. I feel like I’m floating and my anxiety level is at its highest. I plaster myself against the wall as she goes to her bed and sits there softly smiling at me. After an uncomfortable minute or two where I have begun to ache all over she asks me not to be so afraid and to come give her a hug because that’s what I want. Somehow I tell her I thought she didn’t want to and her response is, “If you don’t come over here I’ll come over there.” I look up at her and she starts over to me. She stops so she is standing an inch away from me and is just staring down at me pleasantly. I’m starting to really breathe heavily and I want to touch her so badly. She’s making me suffer and enjoying it. She says, “Ask me for what you want and I’ll give it to you.” I can’t speak. I am telling her with my eyes but she wants me to say it. Finally I say, “Please hold me.” She then take my arms and pulls me slowly against her. Then we hold each other very tightly. I’m beginning to get a little out of touch with my feelings because they are becoming extremely strong. It’s intense. She asks me quietly if this is turning me on and this just makes me want her closer. This intensity lasts for awhile and then it’s over.

I think this was written about two years before I came out. It’s so interesting to me what is revealed in my choice of words and in the creation of my fantasy. How could I be so clear about my feelings but still try to deny the sexual aspect? It’s a little laughable. What seems to be the biggest turn on was having my attraction witnessed and then accepted. I think that may have become a theme throughout my sexual journey.

This journal excerpt goes on to describe my feelings for all of my key friends in high school. More from this coming soon…