The high school years of a sex addict.

My high school years were spent in Vicenza Italy. In a way high school was a great time in my life and in other ways it was horrible. I struggled with grades through out high school. I kidded people and said that I was on the five year plan. My parents separated when I was 16 and my mother moved away. To make matters worse, the physical and emotional abuse from my father returned. When I had difficulty with school, particularly if it was my own fault, he would tell me that I was going to be a bum or a hobo when I grew up. Sometimes I believed him, but some part of me inside never gave up.

Girls were a hit or miss situation with me. While I didn’t date until I was a junior, I did have the occasional erotic encounter. I was a decent looking boy and with wrestling I managed to make myself fairly attractive to girls. Italian girls liked me I think because I was blond and different from Italian boys. Italians are also a bit more sexually liberated. This surely added to my growing love of Italy.

As much shame and guilt as brings me, I must admit I took advantage of a lot of girls who developed a crush on me. Many times I had sex with these girls only to dump them if they wanted more of a relationship[1]. My heart was dead for a while and I just couldn’t allow myself to get involved emotionally with somebody. I was emotionally attached to sex but not my partners. I kept this habit through out the throws of my addiction.

I belonged to a circle of friends that comprised of a diverse group of kids. We were athletes, artists, musicians, pot heads and general misfits. We all had one thing in common, our home life sucked in one way or another. Many of us used each other for comfort or sex (between guys and girls in the circle) and we all self medicated with alcohol and drugs.

On a positive note, in my junior year I did get my act together somewhat. I focused on my academics and sports. I pulled my grades up to the A-B range and I had moments of glory in Athletics. My art, thanks to heavy mentoring from my art teacher, also developed nicely. I even managed to have a couple of healthy romantic relationships.

I left home and joined the Army right after graduation.

[1] My average relationship was less than two weeks. I don’t consider this dating.

The preteen years of a sex addict

I knew bringing the note home would end badly. My third grade teacher told me that I was doing good in class. I walked home as slow as I could clutching the note that would get me in big trouble. I wasn’t in a hurry because I knew a whipping would be coming. It felt like a fat man was sitting on my chest, my eyes were weepy and felt like I was going to puke. I had a hard time swallowing as I made the climb to our government issued family apartment on the fourth floor.

When I realized that nobody was home, I was somewhat relieved. I had some time. I grabbed my bike out of the basement and headed my cub scout meeting1. I would face the music when I got home, but for now, I was free.2

While we were in Germany I started third grade at the DODDS3 elementary school that was in the housing area across from “Centerville,” where my family and I lived. The class work was much more than I was ready for and the reports home often lead to beating sessions with my dad followed by long term grounding.

My circle of friends in the housing area were all latchkey kids like me. We mostly spent our time after school in the large playground and fields between the apartment building and parking lots of the housing area. It wasn’t entirely unhappy, as a group, we were tight. As we got older, into our pre-adolescent and teen years, hide-n-go-seek was replaced by tackle football5 and kissing games.

Many times somebody would buy a porno magazine from the German convenient stores, or find a stash that was thrown out in a near by dumpster. We would take these into the wooded path and find a spot to look at the adult material we found. Often the guys and girls would talk about sex on the path. Sometimes we played showed off our private parts to each other; and sometimes the kissing games would lead to heavy petting. I missed the girl in California and long to resume the secret sex life I had.

I don’t remember where I met Margo. She was a half-German girl who lived in the “economy,” or German houses right off the path of the government housing area. Margo became my secret friend. Unlike the girl in California, Margo was more than two years older than me. She was pretty and more developed then the other girls I had seen in private before. I liked her and developed what I thought were real feelings. We never went out in public together. We spent most of the time in her attic playroom. It started much like the “play” that I did with the girl in California, but ended differently.

Margo began to learn how to get me aroused on a normal basis. I also noticed that Margo’s private parts would get wet if things got a little exciting. When I was eleven and she was about thirteen, we managed intercourse but without ejaculation. It was both extremely exciting and somewhat disappointing. I didn’t know how it was supposed to feel, but I felt that it should be more intense and less clumsy than it really was.

I left Germany at the peak of my relationship with Margo. I promised to write and so did she, but we never did.


1 I stared scouting in Cub Scouts; my father was the local Boy Scout master so he made me. It was good though. Learned a lot about how to be a boy and overall it was a very positive experience. I stuck with it and nearly earn the rank of Eagle Scout. Dad was a great Scout Master. He treated my brother and I like the other Scouts while we were involved with it.
2 Dad whipped me with belt until I clearly had open wounds on my rear.
3 Department of Defense Dependent Schools.
5 We played both neighborhood tackle football as well as organized football with the youth recreation program.