#kissing fairies

Sweet memories of youthful sleepovers…. Making out until we delicate boys fell asleep, and the lingering affectionate kisses of the morning

Memories of boyhood sleepovers. We shy friends pretending to be asleep. Every once and while subtly and gradually repositioning a little closer to one another. Nerves and stomach butterflies, overwhelming as we feel one another’s breath on the other’s lips, and suddenly we are kissing.

How if I had seen such as ad in my younger teenage years, it would have mortified me knowing that there were boys like myself, that could have been like that. And worst of all, knowing deep down, that I could be like that…. a fairy.

How I could imagine my worry, of my friends finding out, that secretly on weekends when I wasn’t at school, I would be going on dates in makeup and skirts, with other fairies. How under their very noses, there being a whole underground network of shy, sensitive boys meeting one another, and often just to make out.

Memories of us shy boys. Emotional and sensitive, more like a pair of girls, when we were alone together.

How we so feared all the other boys would find out that we were fairies

Fond memories of boyhood sleepovers. Bodies entwined, kissing until we both came in unison, falling asleep and remaining inside one another for the whole night.

A very disconcerting and confusing vacation with mother indeed. If it was bad enough, having to dress from a suitcase that mother packed, of clothes much more appropriate for a girl my age, and being constantly mistaken as a girl, it was nothing compared to the attention I received from boys, and the way I found myself feeling things, which also, were much more appropriate for a girl.

How I would so worry about my friends at home. To imagine if they knew of the fairy I had become. A holiday I spent kissing and falling madly in love with older boys.

The sleepovers among us sensitive, introverted boys, were very different from the ones I had with the normal boys from school.

Far from the evenings playing video games and watching action movies, when we shy, delicate boys were together, we liked doing things, like taking turns making out with one another.

Much of the time mother made me over, I would come to stare at myself in the mirror. Where in the beginning, typical of a boy, it was a mix of horror, disbelief  and confusion, over time I feared that my horror was wearing off, that I was becoming used to it. More so, that I was changing. That I was coming to see myself as “pretty”. That I was coming to think in many ways like only a girl supposed to.

Am I as pretty as the other girls? Would the boys want to kiss me?

How overwhelming it was knowing that I was coming to so want it to be true…

Throughout my childhood years, all of us boys had heard of the “fairy” that lived on the other side of town. The boy that looked and acted just like a girl. How occasionally we would hear of boys who had passed through his street, only to later find out that the pretty girl that had allured them, and kissed….. wasn’t really a girl……

Such an adorable, sweet young fairy. I imagine him laughing at his friend’s jokes, looking at him so admiringly…… with much more feelings than is appropriate for a boy have for another…… looking at a boy, more in a way in which only a girl should…. like he wants to kiss him……

Many of us can relate to making friends with a boy that we pitied. Pitied because he was new at school and was being made fun of because he wasn’t like the other boys. He being so sensitive and physically small and delicate. Not to mention him being the only boy in school with long hair, giving the impression to strangers that it is a girl rather than a boy.

Just when spending time with him away from school, and you are coming to like him, dismissing all the awful things the other boys said about, him. When suddenly he looks at you strangely, plucking up the courage, he almost apologetically asks……. “Umm, I was wondering whether you could do something for me, and it would really mean a lot to me……. could you…..

……… kiss me?????” 

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Growing up, there had always been a highly effeminate boy in our town, that had long been the butt of ridicule and contempt from the rest of us boys. 

It was always so disturbing, the rumors of him kissing boys, and was all the worse boy the very unsettling idea, that a boy could like kissing boys. An act only girls were supposed to do…. and to like doing. There would later be rumors of him sucking dick and having sex with groups of men simultaneously. 

The most devastating part of it all, for me, a sensitive, young boy, was how my biggest fantasies came to be of imagining I was him, engaging in the most shameful, depraved acts…. and loving every second of it. It was utter homoerotic ecstasy.

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