What RU Afraid Of? (Lazy Suzan)

I guess you’re wondering how I turned out this way. Well, I was molested.

“By an older girl?” He guessed.

“How’d you guess?”

“Well, by process of elimination,” he counted off on one finger. “You’re into bisexual guys, but.” 2, “You’re triggered by lesbians.”

“Huh, yeah. Okay, well I guess it all started with my Grandma. She didn’t molest me, but she called me Lazy Suzan. I guess she was called that when she was young, because they had one in her kitchen.”

“A what?”

“Oh, a Lazy Suzan is a kitchen cabinet, in the corner. So, you have this little merry go round in there to turn the food around, where you can pull it out of the door?”

He nodded. “Oh, my aunt’s got a spice rack like that.”

“Yeah, well that’s called a lazy Suzan. My grandma had one for the dining room table, too. So, she could put the turkey, and everything in the middle, and everyone could serve themselves. After grampa cut the turkey.”

“Uh huh?” He nodded, but he’s a good listener. One of the things I like about him is we can talk about other stuff besides sex, and he’ll still listen.

“Well, I guess it got to me, until I finally decided to get out. Try some sports, but I was too fat for the soccer team. I couldn’t even play goaltender, I was too slow. So, I started playing kickball, then softball when I got old enough.”

“So that’s when you found out about the dugout, at Optimist Park?”

“Stop skipping ahead. They hadn’t even built that place, or holding the City Olympics every year. This was back when we’re kids?” He just shut up, and nodded, attentively. “Huh, where was I? Oh yeah, I was too young to know what a Lesbian was. So, I hadn’t heard about Softball either, but it turns out that’s how some of them meet. The butch ones like to act like Tomboys, until it starts to seem a little too butch. So then, they either girl up, or come out as lesbians.”

“I bet it’s a lot easier for girls. One of the few things you can get away with, but guys can’t be openly gay, or bisexual.”

“I guess.” He’s also a feminist. I mean, he’s not one of those wannabe lesbians trapped in a man’s body. He truly believes in equality, and thinks about my rights, at least as much as his. That’s not why I decided to go out with him in the first place, but I just told him not to jump ahead, so. “Yeah, uhm.” I lost my place, but he waited patiently.

“So yeah, um. School was out for summer, so we had to wait for the boys to finish using the field to play ball. There weren’t a whole lot of girls that were into playing softball, so it wasn’t like little league. The boys had different teams for different ages. We barely even had enough for a team, and a batter. So, what we did was all play outfield, except the 1 girl that was at bat.

Huh, Lucinda. She hated being called Lucy, so we called her Cindy for short, but. We also called her Fast Bitch, behind her back. She was the only one that could Fast Pitch, but it also turned out that she was a homo. A big gay homo, so the joke was, you know what a lesbian takes on a second date?” He shook his head. “A U-haul.”

I didn’t laugh, and he neither. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, lesbians move in together quick. Maybe not on the second date, but that’s the joke. A good second date for lesbians is to go rent a U-haul. So they can move in together, but it ruins the joke if you have to explain the punchline.” He nodded. “So anyway, that’s not an option for teenagers, and little girls.” I shook my head, and blinked. Made the mistake of closing my eyes, for a second. So, she was standing over me, in uniform, but with the buttons unbuttoned, and working her way down mine to the bottom of my jersey…

“Huh!” He hugged me. “It’s okay, if it’s too painful for you.” I was already starting to cramp, and spasm a little.

“Huh, thanks. I’m not sure if that’s what caused my Vaginismus.”

“Vaginism what?”

“Vaginismus.” It actually helps to back off, and try to think about it clinically. Rationally, so the hurt feelings go away, and I can try to relax. “I never told you?” We shook our heads together. “That’s why we can’t have sex, coitally. I get painful muscle cramps, if I try to put anything in there. I can’t even use tampons.” My gynecologist has to give me a shot of muscle relaxant, just to give me an examination.

“Oh, no. You never told me that. You told me you’re saving yourself.”

“Oh yeah, well I lied. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know you very well, and I guess we just dropped it after that.”

“So now she doesn’t mind being called Juicy Lucy?” Of course he heard of her. The first out, and proud lesbian in town until she left for college.

“Of course she does. That’s why she hated being called Lucy. We started calling her that behind her back, but she was trying to hide how many girls she molested, and raped. Uh!”

He tried hugging me, and telling me it’s okay. “No it’s not, Jesus. Fucking Christ!” I pushed him off. “Let me go. I just. Don’t touch me, just let me try to massage it out.”

“So, you’re not masturbating?”

“Ngh!” I shook my head, but I could barely breathe enough to grunt. Now, my diaphragm was cramping up too, but I finally managed to get the muscle to stop tensing, and started doing Kegels until I could breathe. “Huh, uh. No, I can’t. I can’t even play with myself. It hurts, too much.”

“So that’s why you won’t even let me eat you out.”

“Huh, stop. Just stop with the questions before you trigger another seizure, and let me alone. I’m sorry, but I just need to be left alone right now. So I can relax, it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Okay, okay. I can tell it hurts, just let me know, when you’re done.” I hugged him, and kissed him. Just to feel my arms around his body, and his flat chest against me.

“Smooch, thanks.” I knew that if anyone could understand it would be him. I just put it off, and put it off, until finally he got his friend Josh. “Huh!” He’s so cute, honestly. Even cuter than Allen to tell the truth. He’s got this Gentle Giant vibe about him that I really quite like, and all the girls have the hots for him, but they think he might be gay.

Because he never even looks at them, where they can see it. I’ve caught glimpses of it, but he always shakes his head, and looks away. He notices, whenever you dress alluringly, to get the boys’ attention. He looks, but only for a moment before he shakes his head, and looks away.

I think he might even be a little afraid of sex. I can understand that, and sometimes, I even see a little fear in his eyes. Right before he looks away, but it’s not girls, or boobs he’s afraid of. Well, it’s not just girls, I can say that. I’ve caught him checking out Allen’s ass before too. I don’t know how nobody else picked up on it before, but who can blame him?

He’s got a great ass, all the girls talk about it. Jealously, because his ass is mine, but Josh isn’t the only boy that noticed, too. He’s just not going to look, when he thinks that anyone is watching, but maybe I’m the only one that really pays attention. Because Allen’s my boyfriend, and i was a little jealous at first. Then, I realized it was never going to happen until finally I just wanted them to get it on, to deal with all the sexual tention.

It’s kinda cute, he’s bisexual, and that’s what he’s afraid of. I never thought about it before, because I’ve got my own issues, but I don’t want to tense up again. So, I better stick to thinking about the boys. They make a cute couple, honestly they always did. Even when they were little boys playing around the playground.

They’re in love with each other, only they don’t want to admit it. It wasn’t until Allen said it was easier for bisexual girls that I realized he noticed, too. How Josh looks at him, maybe not from behind, but as friends. Best friends, and possibly even more than friends, but finally he knocked. “You okay in there.”

“Huh, yeah. You can come in, but how’re we going to get to the park?”

“We can take the bus, but it’s not going to be there for another 40 minutes.” He checked on his bedside clock. “Give or take, but you don’t want to have kids?”

“Well, this is a little sudden.” I got up, and went to pick out a jacket. It might get chilly tonight, so I tied one of his windbreakers around my waist. Waterproof, and hooded in case it rains while we’re waiting. Since we’ll be waiting under the bleachers, which aren’t really good shelter like the dugout.

“Oh yeah. In answer to your question, that’s where I found out about the dugout. In fact, Lucy’s the one that came up with that spot. Before they even finished the park.” I even managed to giggle, without spasming. The Kegels really seem to help. “Before there was any grass on the field, so to speak.”

“So, you were. Prepubescent, when she molested you.” I nodded, but he caught the look on my face, and took the hint.

“Come on,” he took my hand, and walked me out to the bus stop. “I don’t suppose it’ll hurt to get there early.” Quiet for a while, until we turned the corner, alone on the sidewalk. “Well, you know that it might be a little easier for you to write about anything that might be too painful to talk about, out loud.”

“Huh, yeah. Okay, but you’re not going to go and post it on any of those erotica sites you like.” That’s another thing, he’s the first boy I ever met who’d rather read about it. What they were thinking, and feeling. Even more that how they look, or what size everything is.

Honestly, I thought that boys thought in inches, and always added a few for good measure. If it’s 6 inches, then they write 8, or 9. If they try to write girls, you can tell that it’s a boy, because she always get’s that out of the way first. As if girls wake up every morning, and check to make sure their bras are still 36 Double D size.

With a couple cup sizes added, for good measure. “Suzan?” he squeezed my hand.

“Yeah?”

“I think I am. Bisexual, too.”

“Well I’m not.”

“I know that, I mean Joshuah.” He spells it with another H on the end.

“Huh, you know he’s bisexual, for you?”

“Yeah, every once in a while, huh!” He took a deep breath, “I catch him checking me out in the bathroom. When I wash my hands, I can see him in the mirror, but his eyes are always down here.”

He patted his tight buttock, with my hand. So, I rubbed it and gave it a squeeze. “Yeah, I can’t blame him. You know you’ve got the nicest ass in school, right?”

“Yeah, you told me, but I guess I’m starting to believe it.”

“Well, good.”

“What’s it like?”

“Your ass?”

“No, anal sex. You like it, so what’s it feel like?”

“Well, it’s honestly the only kind of sex I can take, but. You know, there’s only one way to find out?”

“Yeah, I think I’m ready, or I hope I will be. Tonight?”

“Yeah, I hope Josh gets over his homophobia, and finally gets what he wants.”

“You want to watch?”

“No,” I kissed him. “I don’t just want to watch.”

;

Allen (MB, MG, Grooming. B, and G are for Big Boys, and Big Girls. Old enough to be curious, but still too young to really understand what’s going on. Roughly 10-13, depending on the child, and their stages of development.)

My mom paged me from the house. So, as soon as we got off the bus, we found a payphone to call her back.

“You didn’t leave a note.”

“Well, I’m going out with Suzan.”

“You two coming back for dinner?”

“No, we’ll grab a bite to eat.” Josh didn’t say anything about waiting till after dark, that’s just the plan. I’m so excited, and nervous, but it was hard to believe.

For years, we’re not really homophobic. Not like that, we don’t hate gays, any more than lesbians, and I guess anyone would be scared if a big old bald bear came up to them. With unwanted sexual advances, boy or girl.

“Huh, I guess I have a confession to make too. I wasn’t molested like you, but I was sexually harassed. Over at a friends house, but he wasn’t like. Grabby or anything. He didn’t do anything obvious, like flash me, or jerk off in front of me. Leave the door open so I could see his hardon.

I uh. I guess that old song says it best: “Don’t go home with your hardon, it’ll only drive you insane.”

“Who sang that?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember, or he never told me, but he asked me if I like it.” I shook my head, “I guess it sounded country, and western to me, because I said I liked rock, and roll. Some singer/songwriter, like Bob Dylan he said, but he didn’t sound nasal like Bob Dylan did.” I shrugged. “Huh, he gave me rides home, and he started talking about his sex life. Told me I’m a good listener, and I’m easy to talk to, but he put that song on the radio. In the Tape Deck, but he had a CD player, and an adapter.”

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“I know. Then, he told me about when he was in college, and got drunk. At college parties, he said that when you get drunk enough. You don’t even care if it’s a guy, or a girl giving you head, and then he offered to buy me beer.

Not all at once. I mean, it wasn’t all in the same conversation. It took him years to get around to offering to get me drunk, but by then he’d already told me that. If you’re drunk enough, you don’t even care if it’s a guy, or a girl sucking your dick.”

I looked up, at the sound of brakes. Squeaking, the sound of the bus pulling up around the corner. So, you couldn’t see it, but loud enough to hear it before it even turned, and came up to the bus stop.

We got on, showed our Student IDs, and sat down. Far enough away from everyone to keep talking, if we kept our voices down. “So, where do you want to eat?”

“Wherever’s clever, but don’t change the subject. What did you say, when he offered you beer?” Tried to get me drunk enough to find out who’d be giving whom head.

“No thanks, but then when I got home. I guess that was the whole point of the Hardon song. It was like a subliminal message, so when I got home, all I could think about was Boys Gone Wild.”

“Like Girls Gone Wild?” She shook her head. “I didn’t know they made tapes for gay guys, too.”

“I don’t know, maybe they do, but you get the idea.”

“You started thinking about drunk college guys, getting wild at college parties.”

“Frat houses, and dorm rooms.” I shook my head, “When they came back after cruising singles bars, drunk, and horny after they struck out. That’s when he said it usually happened. When college guys didn’t care, a blowjob is a blowjob, he said.”

“So, you started think about what he must’ve looked like, when he was younger, skinnier, and he had a full head of hair.”

I looked at her, and she nodded, knowingly. “Now how in the hell did you guess that?”

“Like Joshuah. Huh!” She rolled her eyes. “Why do you think that I never went over to his house with you, after school?”

“Well, there was that one time.”

“Yeah, the first time, and the last time.” She crossed her arms.

“He hit on you too?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t exactly like that.” She shrugged, “I guess he’s got a different script for boys, and girls, but he didn’t offer me alcohol. He,” she put up Nixon fingers, and quoted, “Accidentally” left porno mags under the seat. So, when he pulled something out, they slid off right under my feet.”

“He reached between your legs?”

“No, he told me to move them over so he could get under the seat, but then he said I wasn’t supposed to see that.”

“He gave you a ride home, though.” I was starting to realize what with that, and Allen not telling me about stopping bye the optimist Park with his dad. I figured he was holding something back, but I knew him better than that. Even if a hooker did walk right up to the car, and proposition him, he’d probably drive off, and have a fucking panic attack. also, there’s no way he’d be hanging out with a football jock to give him a ride to the game.

Honestly, going out with Suzan helped me understand that part of him a little better too. He doesn’t hold his feelings in like a man. In fact, he holds them in more like a victim, of sexual harassment, at least. I wonder where he got that from?

“Yeah, one time, but he said that it would okay if I wanted to pick one to read later. He’s not predatory, like She was.” With a capital S. Lucinda, the lesbian who molested, and raped her. I stopped her before she told me what happened next, but I thought I could fill in the blanks. It hurt, because of her condition. I forget what she called it, but I’d have her write it down for me, so I can look it up. Later, right now this was more important. “Did you?”

“No, but I flipped through them. To be polite I guess, I just acted interested, but he had bisexual ones in there. Bi guys, young ones. I mean, at least 18, it even said that. Models are at least 18 on the cover, but they looked a lot younger, and all of them were shaved. I thought about taking that one with me, but I didn’t have to. I flipped through it enough to remember, and it gave me something to think about, when I started getting horny.”

“How old were you?”

“I don’t know, not old enough. Barely out of training bras, but bi curious. I guess. After Cindy.” She clenched her eyes, wincing, and I didn’t know whether to hold her tighter, or let go. She called it a seizure, so. It must feel even more severe than it looks. “Huh, I quit. Softball, and I didn’t even want to think about sex until she left town.”

“I think I can understand that” I nodded.

“I know,” she hugged me tighter, and put her head down on my shoulder.

;

Author

Again, sorry that this isn’t about sex as much as you might like yet. But you have to get the Abuse out of the way first, when it comes to survivors of rape, molestation, and/or covert incest. Even without comorbid conditions like Vaginismus.

If you want to stop, and look up things like Covert Incest, now might be a good time…

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