Summer of 1988

The year was 1988 and I was eight. The sun was shining brightly and I was outside the house playing with the kids from my place. Back then, I was a kid who did not know about the birds and the bees. But I knew I was different. 

I was eight and it was summer. The sun was shining brightly when, now on hindsight, I was molested. He was a family friend, my dad's friend in fact. We had stores in the local market so did he. I was the local mogul's eight-year old son while he was a 30ish dad with a few kids. 

"Totoy, tinitigasan ka na ba?", he asked.

"Po?"

"Eto, tumitigas na ba to?", he asked again as he grabbed me.

"Po? Tumitigas na po..."

He smiled. 

"Lika sama ka sa kin, may papakita ko sa yo...", he suggested.

I was young and curious. I have to admit, him holding me felt really good. It was unexplainably good. He started walking towards his empty storage room and he led me in. He locked the doors. It was cold and dark in that storage room and I was uncomfortable.

"Kuya, alis na po ako...", I asked.

"Wag muna... may papakita pa ko sa yo..."

"Ha? Ano po ba yun?"

He then unzipped his pants and showed me his long and thick tool.

"Hawakan mo...", he instructed.

"Po?"

He grabbed my hand and placed it on his tool.

"Gusto mo ba?"

"Alin po..."

"Yang hawak mo..."

"Malaki po..."

"Masarap yan... tikman mo..."

I felt cold. I was confused but there was this certain feeling that made me like what I was holding. I felt him hardened up even more.

"Subo mo...", he was firm with his instructions.

"Eh Kuya, uwi na po ako..."

"Sige na..."  he pleaded.

I was still hesitant. Until he kissed me. I felt his stubbled face on mine. His tongue invading my young mouth. His breathe smelled of cigarettes but his saliva tasted sweet. At eight, I learned how to french. I enjoyed how his tongue played with mine and I hardened up. 

"Masarap ba?", he asked me.

I looked at him and nodded. He smiled. 

"Subo mo na..."

And at that moment, I gave in. I licked the head and he moaned. His precum tasted weirdly sweet. He pumped my mouth hard that I gagged. I watched him take off his pants until he was butt naked in front of me. He pulled down my shorts and played with my tool. 

Kuya moaned like crazy as he jacked off before me. I was curious as to what he was doing and I watched him intently. A few minutes later, he pushed me to his crotch and asked me to open my mouth. Spurts of man juice flowed down my throat. I gagged but he was forceful.

"Kuyaaa...", I begged as I was gagging.

But he was still in heaven. Man juice was still oozing from his cock. I eventually threw up before him. My eyes were welling up. I was on the brink of crying. I was helpless. 

"Kuya... uwi na po ako...", I asked once again.

He kissed me again. I kissed him back. I was still hard but I did not know how I could make it stop. He pulled up his pants and zipped it. Kuya opened the door and let me out.

"Wag mong sasabihin kahit kanino to...", he warned me.

I just nodded. I left the room shocked. I did not know what just happened. All I knew then was that it somehow felt good. 

"Ano yun?", I asked myself.

Back then I did not have the answers. I was eight and the world was still unexplored. Now, twenty years later, I realized that Kuya was my first. I kept this story secret until I was nineteen. When I first told a friend of this story, I had already figured out I am gay.

Looking back, I know that Kuya was just the key to the life ahead of me. It's really funny but whenever I remember this story, I still get a hard on. The only difference is I know how to deal with it now and I need not walk home with a tent under my shorts.

I am sharing this story to set me free. This is my destiny and who I am now is who I am meant to be. 

Blogger's Note: I still see Kuya whenever I go home. His eyes tell me he still remembers what he did. I have forgiven him a long time ago.