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[Breeder] Open Forum Friday: Naked, in a Box


TheBreeder

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Today’s open forum question is simple: What’s your earliest protosexual memory?

I’m not talking about remembering the first time you jacked off, or the first time you actually did the deed. I’m curious about what distant memories from childhood you might have of desires you couldn’t explain at the time, but which totally make sense now, in the context of what you learned about your sexuality since.

My earliest protosexual fantasies, for example, revolved around refrigerator boxes.

You remember refrigerator boxes, or course—or television boxes, or the cardboard containers in which large appliances arrived. Once divested of their contents, they were the ideal playthings for kids like me with active imaginations. I could take a large cardboard box and play with it for weeks. I’d color the outside with crayons and draw crude cityscapes across the flat sides, and even use pinking shears (and a lot of patience) to cut out small little windows for the skyscrapers I scrawled there. Inside, with the box flipped over and turned onto its opening, I’d have endless privacy and light enough to color, or read, or simply conceal myself from the world. I loved my cardboard hideaways.

When I started attending kindergarten at the age of five, I rode a yellow school bus to the church where it was held, in the very early mornings, and rode it back home after lunch. It was from my seat on the school bus that I started to notice something. Some of the kids in my classes had awfully cute daddies.

The bus didn’t make stops at corners in neighborhoods, the way it would when I attended public school later on. This particular bus went to the home of each and every pupil and picked them up. Typically, one of the kids’ parents would wait with him or her at the ends of their sidewalks or driveways, then help their child aboard, and wave until the bus was out of sight. Very quickly, I learned which houses had the absolute cutest dads.

I remember vividly that my heart would sometimes race at the sight of these men. There was one in particular, a young man who couldn’t have been any more than his mid-to-late twenties, blond, handsome in a square and clean-cut late nineteen-sixties way. He’d wait with his child with his sleeves rolled up, exposing a thick thatch of pale fur on his forearms. There were other daddies equally as cute, but he’s the one I still remember, vague as his image is.

And I remember having drowsy fantasies, on those mornings when I’d see these men, about being naked with them. He’d have on no clothing. I’d be stripped bare. And we’d both be together in the darkness of my refrigerator box, hidden and unseen by anyone else. Close together. Unavoidable. And. . . .

Well, I didn’t really know what came after the ‘and.’

I had urges, plainly. A few years later when I’d put two and two together and realized what penises were for, I almost immediately remembered the refrigerator box fantasies and wondered how I could’ve been so dumb, not to realize. I was too young to have the vocabulary of adult desire at that point, though; even if I’d had a rudimentary notion of how babies were made, I couldn’t have applied it at that point to anything I had between my legs, or the beauty I was already seeing in other kids’ daddies. All I knew is that I wanted to be naked with them, and close, and alone.

From what I’ve heard from people I’ve talked to about it, I’m not really alone. A hound dog friend of mine swears that his early days as a skirt chaser began when he used to attempt to see the behinds of his female classmates on the school playground, in kindergarten and first grade. He’s still something of an ass man today. I know of one young man whose childhood discovery of his dad’s porn collection stirred him into an awakening curiosity about sex in general that’s served him well.

So I’m opening the question to my readers—what’s your earliest proto-sexual memory? That is, those sexual impulses you had, but might have been too young to recognize for what they were?

Don’t be shy. They couldn’t be any sillier than refrigerator boxes.12316001024335229-1609080125939570288?l=mrsteed64.blogspot.com

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  • 1 year later...

When I was 7, my family moved from Minnesota to a small town in Eastern New Mexico.

About a week after our arrival, we went to the County Fair and Rodeo. It was the first time I was ever close enough to livestock to actually touch the animals. I saw a stud horse breed a mare and I was intensely interested. Later that day, we watched the rodeo events. The men who were riding bulls and chasing calfs on horses all seemed "larger than life" and the Wrangler jeans they wore all made their cocks look huge and their butts like they were perfect bubbles.

One cowboy in particular drew my attention more than any other. When he took his hat off, he was bald-headed. His moustache and beard were thick and black, just no hair on his head. He finished riding and I saw him walking toward the announcer's booth...he would pass right by me! When he was close, I said I thought he rode very well and he should win. He laughed and thanked me, reaching out his hand and shaking mine. He introduced himself to me and I to him.

Later, I found out that he was a teacher at the local high school as well as a rancher.

We ended up moving to another town about 90 miles from there when I was 11. I maintained friendships in that small town and spent several summers there. Each time, I would go to the county fair and rodeo and watch for Mr. Ellis. When I saw him ride, I always made it a point to seek him out and compliment him on his abilities. We would talk and I would be anticipating the next time I saw him.

After graduating high school, I spent the summer in that small town. I sought out Mr. Ellis and asked if he needed any help on his ranch. He hired me on. I helped clean out stalls, feed and water the animals and keep the barn neat. I also got to stay at the ranch, as it had a bunkhouse from years past, when the operation had been much larger. We ended up having sex, and while he was not my first, he was at the top of the list for a LONG time.

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More details, please, DocThor. How did you get him to have sex with you?

As for me, it was shaving cream commercials. There would be some hot guy in just a towel, and I would think to myself "I want to hang out with him. We could spend the whole day together just lounging around the house in our underwear, laughing and rough housing." I had a similar fantasy about an uncle of mine. My little boy dick would throb at the thought as I lied in bed at night. Looking back, it's like how did I not know.

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I recall distinctly being fascinated by the statuary from the ancients, particularly the statues of male nudes - this fascination directly lead to earning a BA in Ancient History. I have a very, very vague recollection of being in a public swimming pool locker room where I was to change into my swimming suit. The sight of the young men and adult men was both intriguing and beyond the pale. Finally I have very vague recollections of seeing my father's dick when he was taking a piss in the woods: I struggled not to stare. That's about all I can recall. Admittedly not much.

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