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From: Jeff Zephyr <jeffzeph@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP: JZL07_01: The Beginning, Part 2 (nosex, bg rom. scary experiences) {Jeff Zephyr}
Date: Fri, 15 Nov 2002 03:10:06 -0500
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Usual disclaimer:  This story involves sexual subject matter.  If you
aren't old enough to read this, go home!

Copyright by me, 2000, 2001.  Please don't distribute in an altered
form, or with any charges for acquisition.


The (Sex) Story of My Life, by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com)
JeffZeph's Life So Far

A semi-true story ;-)

Thinking back on my life brings back lots of memories, and the
occasional fantasy about "back then."  I'm not dead yet, and some of
you might find my tales interesting. Check out the intro if you want
more background.  This is the start of the tale, my "kid" youth,
before sex was in my life as such.

Jeff Zephyr's Life JZL07_01: "The Beginning, Part 2"  Age 7-8. 
(nosex, bg rom)

              


{The following is a bit of non-sexual background.  Skip ahead if you
don't care about these things.  To the next chapter ;-)}.

   School,  during this era, had one very traumatizing aspect, at
least for early primary school kids. The usual fire and storm drills
were supplemented by the civil defense nuclear  attack drills,  the
phrase "duck and cover" used to tell  them what to do.  That meant
moving to the school basement, lying under a desk if possible, putting
your hands above your heads, and waiting for the drill to complete. 
Coupled with a recap of the Cuban missile crisis and the "commie
threat," this was enough to give me nightmares. For high school
students, this period may have been a joke, but it wasn't kind to
younger ones like me.

On top of the civil defense drills, my mom went into the hospital to
have another baby, who was born dead.  I don't know how much this is
related to sex, if at all, but it certainly was dramatic.  My parents
were naturally very unhappy and, after going through all of the
expectations of having a baby brother, feeling my mom's belly "kick,"
and the hurried rush to the hospital during a snowstorm, I was really
"shook up."

But not in the nice way that Elvis Presley was.  By the way, my dad
looked a bit like Elvis; dressed in jeans, white T-shirts, black
leather jacket, riding his bike.  Maybe he looked a bit like James
Dean, too, but in any case, he acted a lot like them, including
quoting movie lines, with mom being "his honey."  I can't remember
details of this period, but just thinking about it still makes me very
sad.  Dad decided to take a new job, with a new look -- no leather
jackets or T-shirts worn to work any more. My parents frequently
drank, with my dad going out often after work. 
This  was not uncommon among the parents of my friends, or my parent's
friends, though I learned not to be to close to them when they were
drinking.  Sometimes, they'd let me have a beer with them. Dad's
friends dressed like him, rode bikes, many had tattoos, and they swore
a lot.  Mom didn't like some of this but, up to this time, hadn't
tried to discourage these particular friends from hanging around with
us kids.  My parents had  their first shouting arguments that I can
remember  during this period, which made me unhappy though I didn't
understand why they were arguing.

As a kid who liked movies about war, horror, science fiction,
westerns, etc., Star Trek was a natural hit.  But unlike the typical
kind of show that we got to watch, it had sex in it.  Just about every
episode had Kirk making it with a "babe," in a rather casual fashion. 
If the kissing and so forth happened in other TV programs, I would
have turned away, or just not watched -- that wasn't yet a cool thing
for me.  Nevertheless, I really liked the spaceships, aliens, and
fighting, so I stayed to watch the "gooshy parts." 

I can't say how much this contributed directly to my interest in sex,
but I did notice it.  TV, movies, books, and music were a strong
influence in my life during this period.  I liked singing, especially
Beatles' songs, and would run around going "I wanna hold your hand." 
I liked magicians too, and learned some basic card tricks and simple
hand illusions,  the start of an interest in entertainment, especially
the fantastic big illusions on stage and special effects in movies. 
My Grandma's sister, Elaine, and her friend who we called Auntie
Eunice, visited during this time, and showed me some neat tricks they
had learned, and told me of their trips to Las Vegas and other places
to see magicians and other performers.  I was often shy, but if I had
a chance to sing or do a card trick, I felt safe to do so, even with
strangers.

I was growing up some now, going into first grade in school.  We  
lived in the house by lake for what seemed like a long time for a kid
but in fact it lasted less than two years.  It was long enough for me
to settle into school, make some good new friends, and be heartbroken
again by losing them when we moved away.  My baby sister, Cher, was
about two now, and mom couldn't work and watch her, while taking care
of us.  She tried to find odd craft jobs and things to make money, but
no longer could she take a regular job.  Dad lost his job, and that
forced us all to move back to Grandma's house in the city.

I was almost eight now, and going to be in 2nd grade next year. A big
boy, but still very unhappy about this move.  However, it was nice to
be back in a familiar place and see my old friends  again. Still, I
really missed my other friends, and knew we'd have no chance to see
each other anymore.

My interest in getting naked didn't return right away but, once again
I saw my parents naked more often because of how the house was
arranged.  The path from our bedroom to the outside went through their
room, which made it hard not to see them undressed on occasion.  Cher
was also getting bigger, but she was still being a naked baby around
the house at two, and wouldn't (or wasn't made to) wear underwear
under her baby dresses or nightgowns.  There wasn't anything sexual
about this in itself.  We were just being naked around each other. 
Babies, even toddlers, don't count as being naked, and inside, it
didn't matter if your sister saw you that way.  Mom did try to
discourage her from being around us when we'd change, but we didn't
care.  It wasn't something to worry about, nothing bad or strange.

I made new friends in school for 2nd grade, as well as meeting old
ones in the neighborhood.  A nice girl, Diane, played with me after
school and I stopped at her house on the way home often this year. 
There was another girl though, who seemed to like me particularly,
even though we weren't in the same class.  Her name was Sherry, and
her interest seemed different from just being playmates or friends. 
With her best friend Maureen, we three would play together, and I'd
walk them home even though they lived a short distance in the wrong
direction. The two lived next door to each other, and were inseparable
friends.  It felt special to be part of their relationship.

Our classes shared cloakrooms, so that when going into school or
leaving, we'd see each other.  At Valentine's Day, she gave me one,
which was obviously special since everyone else only gave them to
classmates.  Then, she pulled her surprise on me.  She kissed me,
right there in the cloakroom.  OK, it was just lips touching, not a
deep, wet adult kiss, but still, it was a girl kissing me.  When she
stopped, I kissed her back.  I thought she'd like that, but  instead
she tried to push me away.  Some of the other kids saw us, and were
laughing at us;  she didn't like that part.  When the teacher came in,
this turned very embarrassing.

I made out an extra valentine card for her, and after school, we
walked home together.  I gave it to her and kissed her again. This
time she let me, without pushing away.  Then she said, "We can't do
that or everyone is going to tease us to death.  I like you, Jeff. 
Bye!"  She ran off, maybe she was embarrassed by this feeling too.

A lot of teasing followed for a while, the usual kid rhymes like
"Sherry and Jeff, sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G..."  So we didn't
kiss again, but we still walked home together and would stop and talk
someplace along the way or get together after school to play.  We
talked about getting married, being in love, the whole "love,
marriage, and baby carriage" stuff from the rhymes and teasing. 

Puppy love, it was, but it felt very serious and special, for both of
us.  The boy and girl liking each other thing wasn't very popular in
school, not for 2nd graders, but it was still OK to be friends, and
things like kissing get forgotten like many other odd things.  By the
end of the school year, we were still close, and though we didn't
kiss, we'd hold hands as we walked home.

One nice spring day, I had  spent a lot of time talking with the girls
and I was in a hurry to get home, not wanting to chastised for being
late.  Skipping and running  happily, I rushed across  a busy street,
even though the light was flashing its warning 'Don't Walk' sign.  I
took that to mean "run fast," because I'd always made it across with
no problems.  The cars stopped at the red light could see me, for
sure, and any others coming up would slow down in plenty of time to
avoid me.

This time however, a speeding car didn't slow for the light, and
didn't see me pop out past the car stopped at the light.  Anticipating
the change, perhaps, or whatever,  it ran into me at about 40 mph,
knocking me flying across the intersection.  It didn't stop even then,
though it  did slow, but then sped away . 

I had no idea what had happened to me.  It felt like I'd fallen down
the stairs, tripped while running, or something like that.   It didn't
hurt, I just didn't know where I was or what was happening.  I
remember sirens, then my Dad's voice, and after that, not much at all.
I was in the hospital for weeks recovering, on medicine for pain much
of that time,  but the impact was more than just physical.

Before the accident I was carefree, confident, very unafraid of
things.  I can't really describe the changes, because I didn't notice
them happening as such.  I just became more quiet, less willing to go
out and play, and afraid to cross the street by myself even after
looking both ways.  Sherry and Maureen, and a few other friends, came
to visit me while I was in the hospital.  My whole class sent notes
and flowers and stuff like that, wishing me to get well soon.  That
part of this disaster was all very nice, knowing that so many people
did care about me, and worried about what happened to me.

I eventually got well enough to go back to school and I studied hard ,
not only to make my missed work up but to do extra credit projects to
get exceptional grades.  The last day of school, Sherry kissed me
goodbye and we hugged.  I didn't know then that I wouldn't see her
again next year, or that I wouldn't even have a chance to say goodbye
to her this summer  before we moved away.  Parents don't always give
kids warnings about such changes.  Otherwise, my relationship with
Sherry and Maureen might have turned more interesting in this next
year.

But Dad,  on the recommendation of an old friend of his, took a job in
a town far away from our city, in fact far from any big city.  Moving
away from the city was always one of his dreams; to live out in the
woods, fresh air, farm life, all that stuff.  We were about 300 miles
away this time, not much chance to even visit our old friends in the
city.   The house we moved into was a farmhouse on a real farm out in
the country with no cities at all close by ... and not many people
either.

Having lost friends only a couple years back and quickly making new
ones, made me feel a little better about the advice that "I'd made new
friends here."  But I didn't see how I would meet someone nice like
Sherry, who had become my best friend and, in my heart,  my girlfriend
- the girl I thought I'd eventually marry.  It didn't matter that she
was a girl, or that most boys had boys for best friends.  I only knew
who I liked being with, and it was her. 

 It was nearing my ninth birthday, and we celebrated it in our new
home in the country.  I got to meet my neighbors, and the birthday
party was a great excuse to get all the kids in the neighborhood
together.



{OK, non-sexual period is coming to an end now}.


Some readers have commented on the car accident.  My experience of it
was too blurry to make the terror of it clear to me.  Time heals a lot
of wounds, if not all, and kids truly are resilient physically.
Within a year -- the period covered in the next chapter -- I was
running and playing as if it never happened.  The emotional changes,
those are harder to judge.  I became a much more serious boy in many
ways as a result of it.


--


  Copyright by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com) 2000.  Please don't
distribute in an altered form, or with any charges for acquisition.

If you liked this story, want to put it in a free collection, want to
tell me how I could write better, or just say hello, write to me at my
hotmail address. 
-- 
Jeff

Web site at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/jeffzephyr/www/
For FTP, http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/jeffzephyr/

There is nothing more important than petting the cat.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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