A Visit To an Adult Store

I remember how jealous my older sister always got when I was little and my mother would brush my straight, thick blond hair.

"You should have been a girl, Robin," Sis would say, shaking her frizzy, dirty-blond locks.

It bothered me because I was not a girl. I was a boy. Mom would sigh and tell me that most girls would kill to have hair like mine, not only thick and straight, but bright and shiny, too. The style for boys was to wear it pretty long, so I did. As I grew up, I compared my hair with other guys', and I always thought I had the nicest hair. Then, I started comparing it to girls' hair, and I envied them a bit for being able to style their hair any way they wanted. As my hair got longer, I wore it mostly in a pony tail.

I had always considered myself a normal teenage boy. I found I liked to look at the thin, willowy girls at school, but I could never muster the courage to ask one out. I loved it when they would wear something off-the-shoulder or a halter-top. I think bare shoulders and necks are very sexy. I also loved bare midriffs ... as long as the girls were thin and had curves. I imagined running my hands over their bare sides while my mouth nuzzled their necks and soft shoulders.

Then, slowly, as my teen years progressed, my fantasies began to change. It was my body being caressed, my shoulders and neck being nipped at ... by some man. I never could quite imagine what he looked like, but he would be older and stronger than me. I thought about crossing my arms around this man's neck, giving his hands free rein over my body while he kissed me.

I thought about this anonymous man a lot, about what he would want to do to me after he asserted his will and I surrendered mine.

I figured that I was probably gay, not that I had done anything about it when I was in high school. I ran track and was a pretty fair swimmer (with my hair packed under a swimming cap). I was 5-foot-8 1/2 and very thin. One day, I came upon one of my sister's fashion magazines. There was a male modeling Speedos. He was so perfectly thin that I almost couldn't tell where his flat stomach ended and his hips began.