Thoughts On Losing My Virginity

I was only ten years old. I knew so much less about sex than I would come to know in the years ahead. But one thing I often wanted to ask Mom but never could was 'Can I have sex with boys?"

I know it may seem somewhat weird to say this but I pretty much feel I knew as soon as Paul tapped on my door that he was there to fuck me.  How?  Well, maybe because he just never came to my room.  Or maybe it was because he were alone.  Or because of something I saw in his eyes when he as taking my pictures.

Mostly it was a combination of all of these clues plus one very important clue  -- I knew he had wanted t o fuck me for quite some time.  Those times I felt as though he wanted to fuck me, I had usually just passed it off as 'wishful thinking.'  Wishful thinking?  Did I want my brother to fuck me?

Oddly enough, I felt the main reason he had not fucked me yet was because he couldn't.  Because I was a boy. (I mean at least down there.)  However, he had come to my room and I was rather certain he wanted to fuck me.  He was older than me.  He knew more.

When he offered to climb into my bed with me and hold me, my heart started to pound.  And then he suggested he could get under the covers with me.  I almost asked him if he was planning on fucking me that night. Now I had heard about faggots.  But did they have sex?  I had heard something about the asshole, but that sounded just so gross I knew it could not be true. Would it just be too stupid of me to ask if he planned on fucking me?

After we fucked we both headed back to our own rooms. I heard our family get home about an hour later. I know that someone -- most likely my Mom -- looked in on me. I was pretending to be asleep, but still thinking about all the ways my life had changed that night. (BOYS CAN FUCK ME!!!)

The next day I wanted to tell someone about what had happened. While it had been painful, my brother had been very tender. He even wore a condom, reassuring me that it was lubricated. (I HAVE BEEN FUCKED!!!) Who however could I tell? If it had been anyone other than my brother maybe I could have told some of the girls I knew. I most definitely not tell my Mom or anyone else in the family. I felt great about being a girl for Paul. He said I was being a 'good girl' for him. ("Your are taking this so good Yvonne. Just like a big girl. You are being such a good girl for your brother.") Since I could not tell anyone, I was hopeful that boys would be able to tell when they looked at me, to see that I was all the girl they wanted a girl to be.

Within a few days, I started to have a different thoughts regarding what Paul and I had done. He was quite obviously distraught over what we had done. He left the room whenever I came into the room. He never looked at me. If he came into a room and I was there, if he sat down he would sit down as far as he could from me.

After this had been going on for about two weeks, I found myself alone with him and before he could leave I asked him "What's your problem Paul?"

He looked at me for a long moment and then he said, "I want to do it again. I'm afraid I will do it again. And it was wrong."

I said nothing and then he turned and started to leave the room and I called out to him. When he turned around, I said, "We could go up to my room and be really quiet."

"With Mom and Dad as well as Ryan and Joey in the backyard, you want to go upstairs and fuck. You liked it Yvonne. You liked it too much. You'll never say no so I have to be sure the question is never asked -- every again."