I know many of you, probably even most of you, have experienced much worse sexual abuse and/or more numerous times than I did. Even so, it still leaves an emotional scar. I wish you all the best with your healing. My story:

I believe it was when I was around 13 years old that I my experience happened. It was summertime and I was out of school for vacation. About a week or so before it happened, I had taken a drive with my uncle to another relatives house to return some items he had borrowed from them. We didn’t stay long at the relatives house before heading back home. On the way back we started talking about camp. I had just come back from camp a week or two before. He asked me whether I had met any girls there that I liked. I said that yes there was one (although it was nothing more than a girl I got to know for that week at camp). He asked if I had touched any feminine parts of her. As nothing had happened and I was not so good at lying, I said no. He asked a few more sexual questions but being young and naive and since nothing had happened at camp, his questions, although odd, didn’t seem creepy to me at the time. However, one thing that was odd, and something I didn’t think about until years later, is that the route he took to our relative’s house would not have been the most direct route there. I didn’t realize it at that age but now, looking back and remembering some of the landmarks of that drive, it would not have been the most direct or even the most traveled route. It would have been a “back road”, a less known way of getting there. I truly believe that what happened was not his original plan. I now believe that his original plan was to probably try to find somewhere along the route to pull off the road in a secluded area. Then he could see if he could convince me to take my pants down and let him suck me or try to convince me to fondle or suck him. If that was his original plan, I assume that he either was too nervous about getting caught, couldn’t find a secluded enough area or wasn’t sure that I would be receptive. Nothing more happened on that drive.

About a week or two later, when my parents were both at work, is when the event happened. For whatever reason, none of my siblings were at home either. It was mid morning and I was sitting watching TV when I heard a car in our driveway. I got up to see my uncle walking across our driveway and up to our front door. He saw me through the screen door and walked in. He asked if my mom was around and I said “No, she’s at work”. Since I was comfortable with my uncle and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, I walked back into the living room to sit down. He followed me back in to sit on the couch. He sat down next to me and asked a question, something to the effect of “So, what are you doing here alone? Playing with yourself?” I said “No”. He continued to ask questions, not all that I can remember, but questions like “Come-on, I know you jerk off, don’t you?” and “When was the last time you jerked off?”. Although I can’t remember all of the questions word for word, I do remember one question in particular. He asked “Do you have a hard-on now?” Of course I didn’t because there was no reason for me to have a hard-on, but at the moment that he asked that question, he reached over and started feeling my penis. This surprised me but because I was so young and this was an adult touching me, I didn’t fight back. He began rubbing my penis through my pants and, of course, I started getting hard. He unbuttoned my pants, pulled down the zipper and then put his hand inside my underwear. He grabbed my penis and started stroking it. He then told me to pull my pants down.

I guess I must have felt intimidated, having always respected my aunts and uncles as I had been taught to. I didn’t react negatively to his touching me and I did as he said and pulled my pants and underwear to just below my knees. He continued jerking my penis with one hand and massaging my balls with his other. He asked me if it felt good. I said yes it did.

He reached up with one hand and took his upper dentures out of his mouth and set them on the coffee table in front of us. The next thing I know, he bent down and took my penis into his mouth and started sucking on me. I was incredibly shocked but I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t do anything, just let him continue and hoped that nobody came home. I had never even been touched sexually by another person. I was confused. It was incredibly strange to have my uncle going down on me. I was already trying to deal with this psychologically and emotionally. But, at the same time, it felt good. Because this was my uncle, I didn’t want it to feel good but I couldn’t stop the physical feelings. I went back and forth between feelings of 1- being horrified that a man, even worse, my uncle was giving me a blow job, 2 - the fear that someone might walk in and catch us and 3 - enjoying the feeling of getting a blow job for the very first time. Being so young, it wasn’t long before I was feeling the feeling I had only felt before by masturbating. Within a short time, I was cumming in his mouth. I had masturbated many times before but never had an orgasm like that.

He finished sucking on me and then pulled off. He told me that my cum tasted very good and continued massaging my penis with his hand for a while longer. He asked me if I liked it. Not wanting to tell him how uneasy I felt about it all, I said yes. He then asked me if I wanted to do the same thing to him. I said “no” and then he asked if I wanted to hold his penis and jerk him off and I again said “no”. Even though he had just sucked me off, I had never touched another man and, at that point in my sexual life, I didn’t want to hold another man’s penis, especially my uncle’s. He got up from the couch and went into the bathroom and washed his face and had a drink of water while I pulled my pants back up. Then he came back in to sit with me. He asked me if I felt good. I said yes and then he reminded me that I shouldn’t ever tell anybody about this. I said that yes I knew that and I wouldn’t. He rubbed my penis a few more times and then got up and left. Although we have seen each other many times since then, it was always around other members of my family or with family members somewhat nearby, never totally alone like that day. He has made verbal sexual references to me if he has a moment alone with me, but we never again have had any sexual contact. I have never mentioned any of what happened that day to my family.

I have had many years to think about what happened and to emotionally deal with it in whatever way I needed to in order to go on with my life. On the one side, I hate him for being a child molester and doing what he did to me. It’s a horrible thing for a young person to have to deal with and live with their entire life. I have hated him for years for doing something like that to me, making me have to deal with this on my own because I was afraid to tell anyone. I was never afraid of what he would do, he was not a threatening or violent person. I guess I was more afraid of what people would think of me and how people would treat me, maybe that people would think that I didn’t resist enough or that once he started, I wanted it to happen. I just didn’t want to have to deal with that side of it and the best way to do that was to not tell anyone. I have also come to realize that it wasn’t a girl that took my virginity as I so conveniently had myself believing for years. I even told my girlfriend that I first had sex with at 17 that she took my virginity and I even believed it at the time. But, a few years later, after having a few other girlfriends and a few years to think about it, I realized that it was not my girlfriend that took my virginity at 17, it was a man that took it when I was 13 - it was my uncle. That’s not the type of thing you want to tell a lot of people about.

On the other side, I have also come to realize that, although it was very wrong for him to do what he did, I have been able to admit to myself that physically it did feel good . . . it felt very good in fact, and that it was my first homosexual experience. Even though it’s taken me years to admit it, I liked his blow job . . . a lot. It was a scary situation at the time but physically, it was one of the best physical feelings I had felt up to that point. And even though it left an emotional scar for years, it is something I have now learned to live with and accepted my physical feelings from that day. I know it’s weird but that’s how I feel. There was an emotional side and a physical side to that day and I know now that, to deal with the confusion in my mind, I had to separate my feelings for the two sides.