"Not healthy to touch another man's d!ck"

This story was crowdfunded by Questionmark's Kickstarter campaign.

I grew up in Zimbabwe in a family of three boys, and I am the last one. For this story, I will be Patrick. This is the name I often use online as a nickname. Where can I start this complicated story I never found anyone to tell from?

Homosexuality and being attracted to people of the same sex have always been complicated and tough for me. I realized I had strong feelings for men when I was still young and thought it was normal. I loved looking like a lady, and my mother's clothes were quite entertaining. She would say to her friends and relatives, "this child was supposed to be a girl; look at his shimmering skin," and ofcos (of course) I loved it. She would comment in this way so many times in my childhood days that I knew there was something about me that was unique.

My penis had an awkward way of responding; whenever I saw a man naked, all the feelings of sex and lust would come. I grew up imagining having sex with a man, and hot men would visit my dreams from time to time.

The first person to make me aroused was my own father. I remember vividly when I was very young; I got into the bathroom to find him bathing, and guess what I saw? A big and well-endowed penis, or should I call it dick cos it was so large and had these beautiful veins all over. Even though I was very young, I knew very well that this was why I would hear my mother mourning from time to time.

"Dad, how come you have such a big penis, and yet I have a small one?"

He laughed and said I would have a big one as I grew. Before he could finish his sentence, I had already rushed to touch his dick and feel it, and he laughed again and said it's not healthy to touch another man's dick. Still, I enjoyed touching it; it felt so fulfilling to some extent.

In school, I had never been a people's favourite. My behaviour was confusing everyone, and the few friends would never come closer to me as, in their eyes, I was a tainted "girlfriend".

Time passed by, and as I grew older and became more attractive. At age 12, handsome boys at primary school would come forward to say, "I wanna marry you one day"; wow, that was music to my ears. I felt loved in a way I had never had before, but the horrible part is that they would all quickly understand that what they had said was never possible.

My high school days started with plenty of excitement as I was brilliant in school and beautiful and attractive as a woman. My high school crush was a very handsome guy, and funnily enough, he also had feelings for me. Each time I would see him, I melted with passion. He used to pull the chair for me; oh, how I loved all that. I became obsessed with becoming his woman. The reality, though, hit hard one more time.

High school time passed, and it was never easy to be in a man's body when gender was the other way around. I developed health problems like migraines and headaches because of stress and not being understood by others. Life was so complicated I did not understand it myself, yet I wanted to live just like everyone else. At one moment ofcos I felt so depressed to the point of contemplating committing suicide, but I loved my little life even though it was queer.

The school became unbearable, so I transferred to another school in Bulawayo, where my father worked. This is where I had the happiest moments of my life. Grades four, five, and six were full of moments of freedom.

I was naughty and did not care about any consequences. After school, I would pass by the golf club bush; the place was manifested with horny squatter men. The first and most exciting guy I met there was called Nick. Nick knew what I was looking for even though I had never said a single word to him. He knew I was looking for sex and manhood just by how I looked at him when wandering around the bush next to their squatter camp homes.

He simply commanded me to "Tevera mugwagwa uyo uende so. Ndichasangana new mberi uko" (..."follow the road that goes this way. I will meet you further there"). I followed his instructions and went further to the other end of the bush across the road, and before I knew it, my first live encounter happened. I saw his huge bulge and the mushroom-head penis; I wish I could live that moment every day.

Wasting time was never my thing. We touched each other, and I sucked dick for the first time in my life. This time it was not in a wet dream; it was indeed the moment I was longing for. We had hot sex till he had an orgasm. Unfortunately, my first orgasm came several years later, when I was 20. Until then, the only time I could get wet was in my dreams; for some reason, this amazing feeling would never reach me when awake.

-Patrick from Zimbabwe*

*All names have been altered to ensure anonymity

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This story was crowdfunded by Questionmark's Kickstarter campaign.