I was at that time very nearly totally 'innocent' (apart from the sole incident of my being sexually humiliated in the Boy Scouts, but that's maybe a story for a future blog)..Being so ignorant of sexual matters, at first I couldn't work out what the drawing was supposed to be showing. Although I'd heard of the word 'circumcision' I had no idea what that process entailed - so I assumed that that strange shape on the right was a circumcised cock! I wondered if circumcision meant that a chunk was removed from the actual cockhead.
I also, at that tender age, had never seen, let alone touched, a rubber johnny - though why the cock on the right in this situation should have had one on at all didn't occur to me.
There were, of course, lots of scribblings of 'dirty' words and stories as well as other drawings on all the wall surfaces and the back of the cubicle door all over, but it was this particular drawing that had the most profound effect at that moment, and indeed, on all my life since.
Can't recall if, in my astonishment, I ever did have the shit that I'd come in for, but after realising what the drawing was, and feeling both total horror and disgust, my initial feelings gradually changed over the ensuing period.Those feelings of disgust gradually diminished. They became an interest, then a curiosity, and then finally this became a fascination - a burning one! Had I really seen what I thought I'd seen? I had to go back to investigate, just to be sure for my own satisfaction. So I returned - again - and again. I read the sexy stories and I got really involved. Soon I found I had a craving to read more and more. Christ, it seemed the whole world was having sex, sex sex - apart from me! It was not that long before I dared myself to start adding my own contributions on the wall, both crude drawings and stories, depicting things I'd never (yet) done. The more I went to these shithouses (Note: not just the one - it was now an addiction to visit them ALL) the more I started noticing that there were oddly behaving men hanging around in these places, sometimes whispering to each other, other times just waiting looking round and waiting for something. Sometimes when I was in there avidly lapping up all the filthy stories and drawings they'd knock at the cubicle door. Then some days they'd even try to push the door open, which was quite scary to a young lad like me - and when there was no bolt (which, if there was, was almost invariably broken) I'd have to push back hard to keep them out. But, inevitably, because of my then tender age, it wasn't that long before the attraction of my younger body to other guys became too much for me to resist. They just wouldn't take 'no' for answer. So I started my active sexual life with an attitude so unlike the unwillingness I'd tried my best to maintain (unsuccessfully) in that scout-camp incident. (I'll have to talk about the struggle with my own conscience shaped by my strict Catholic education at some other time.)
So, was this drawing of a man with his cock up another man's bum the 'tipping point' at which I was 'corrupted'? Maybe. Or maybe the tipping over actually took place earlier with the sexual initiation and humiliation which I've referred to. Who knows? But to whichever guy had drawn this (I feel sure it was a lad in his mid or late teens), after a lifetime of great sex-crazed experiences, many of which took place in or were instigated by public shithouses, I'd like now just to say "Thank you!" .
