My other obsession I developed at an unusually young age is girls. Females.
I’ve always, since I can recall, been attracted to them.
Their bodies, voices, manners.
Their smells. Clothes. Pretty much everything about them.
The first girls I can remember being involved with were in my earliest days, at around 6, 7 years of age.
Buffalo Bangkok: Juvenile Delinquent One was named Michelle. We were in an after-school program together. She was a year my elder, was a bit taller, with sandy brown hair and immaculate cheekbones, pretty brown eyes. I think she was Italian or Spanish.
We’d sneak off, into the woods, and touch, explore each other’s young bodies.
I can’t remember if she was the first girl whose vagina I saw. It’s possible she was.
I remember inspecting it, amazed at the hairless mound, her absence of a penis.
She’d look, feel at my penis the same way, with a look of genuine amazement, curiosity.
We’d kiss as well. But most of our time we spent hugging, sitting together and talking.
I wonder where, who, what she grew to be...
The other girl I first remember was Alice (the girl who’d helped me attack the neighborhood fuck boy).
Alice was a year younger, I think, and had short, curly blond hair and blue eyes, looked sort of like Shirley Temple.
We never did anything sexual, that I remember.
The closest thing to it was when we played “show me yours and I show you mine,” compared no-no places. I’d played this with many girls in my school.
Alice also showed me something I’ll never forget. Being a young child, I was just learning to use my body, learning how it worked. But I didn’t know how the female body worked; namely, I didn’t know if girls pissed. They didn’t have penises, so how would they? If they did, where did the piss come from? Did it just flow out their holes like turning on a shower? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I knew they had to be doing something because I’d seen girls bathrooms, and I knew there must be things happening inside those bathrooms, or else why even have them?
So I asked Alice about it. I wanted to know the truth. Did girls piss? And if so, how did they do it?
Buffalo Bangkok: Juvenile Delinquent Alice, being quite young and naïve, wasn’t able to explain it well in words, but did confirm that girls in fact did piss. And I asked if she’d let me see how it was done.
Giggling, possibly from nervousness, she complied.
I snuck into a girls bathroom with her and watched her drop her white panties from underneath her plaid sundress. She hiked up the dress so it was over her waist, exposing her bald pelvic mound.
Then she sat to the toilet, legs spread, and I watched. From the top of her vagina fold a tiny pink worm-like thing extended itself, like a small penis and pissed out a yellow stream of liquid. It was like she had a tiny dick in her vagina! I couldn’t believe it! It was almost magical how the little pink worm arose from out of nowhere. It was then I gained a whole new respect and admiration for girls.
Girls, the magical beings!
Girls, the bringers of life! Girls who always make me feel so alive!
Alice herself was magical, lively, lovely, and kind. We’d climb palm trees together, pick and collect coconuts. That was our thing. And there was one sunny afternoon, up in the trees, she said something about us getting married.
But soon enough, her family moved away, to where, I don’t know, and I never saw her again.
This was around the time when my father became sick.