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in honor of
my cousin/lover/frot brother
in honor of my cousin/lover/frot brother
9-27-2007
I wanted to give a small re-cap of my earlier life without having had the Man2Man Alliance as a guidepost along the way. This is a life without frot. It may be helpful for other guys out there in making more informed, better choices.
My cousin, Gary, and I were the same age growing up and saw each other only a couple of times a year during the school year but stayed together throughout the summers. My family moved a lot, but mostly always to near identical backwater, dirt towns in Texas. I was a shy kid but my love of sports usually helped me gain my footing in a hurry in each new locale.
Gary and I usually stayed at each other's homes over the summer. But when we turned 12 we began to stay at our granddad's farm to help out. This tradition carried on well into our teenage years. I always looked forward to the summers of hard work and hard play with my cousin. We were two peas-in-a-pod during the summer, although a bit more diverse the rest of the year. I was a cleaner-cut version of Gary although we were always mistaken for brothers. We both came from fire-and-brimstone upbringings, strict parents who believed in a wrathful God and in the almighty power of the rod. But Gary bucked a little harder, raised more hell than I did. I was easily strung up by my own guilt, hobbled by religion. Except during the summer. Something about being with my cousin allowed me to break free and to be more like him. Going back to school after summer I always returned to my old straight-A, "yes sir", "no sir", captain of the basketball team self. Gary didn't play many sports; interfered with his hell-raising.
I smoked my first cigarette with my cousin. As the years advanced I also drank my first beer with Gary, then on to swigging my first shot of stolen whiskey and smoking doobies. He was the one who demonstrated masturbation to me (and suddenly the world made a lot more sense to me). I shot my first wad standing side by side with him coaching me on.
We both tended to be hot-headed and prone to fist-fights with one another (same as when we were 3 years old together) but they always ended with one of us starting to chuckle, resulting in us wrestling down in the dirt laughing. We rarely wore shirts. We worked hard and played hard.
Granddad had set us up in the little travel trailer next to the barn. Damn, if I could find that same trailer today, I'd buy it and turn it into a shrine.
So it all came as a natural progression that two red-blooded, hot-headed, always horny young men with no secrets between them would learn the ways of frot together. In our beds at night we fell exhausted but always youthfully restless. Side by side masturbation led to giving a helpful hand -- to the discovery of frictioning two cocks together -- to wrestling to the point of orgasm. We had grown up running wild together, swimming naked, comparing dicks and new developments down there, and sharing a bed. Like I said: frot was the next natural step. Most every night for the rest of that summer and the next we romped around in the trailer, in the barn, at the creek. And once in the corn rows under the hot sun when we couldn't contain ourselves til the night.
I still remember after weeks of this, the night we wrestled in bed, straining towards orgasm, that things suddenly slowed as Gary locked eyes with me in a knowing. Our lips first brushed, then locked; teeth clashed and tongues dueled. It felt like every electrical fuse on the farm must have just blown. I damn near pushed my cousin through the wall as I climaxed onto him.
Strange or not, we always went back to our girlfriends after summer, exchanging stories over the phone at how close we were getting to scoring. And even giving advice and encouragement to making the current relationship work.
So what the hell happened?
We were set up in what I believe was a sting operation by my cousin's mom. Guess we had been suspects for a while. It's hard to hide the exuberance my cousin and I had for one another.
We were caught and then outed to the entire family. We were admonished, chastised, and -- by some -- dis-owned. We had shamed our families. We were sinners. We were abominations.
We were forbidden to see or speak to each other. But our own guilt might have prevented that from happening anyway. We both totally bought in to the condemnation. I was a vessel of self-loathing. Repentance and penance were out of the question. It was beyond that.
It would be 22 years before my cousin and I spoke to one another again.
After high school I moved to California in an attempt to get as far away from my dad as possible. And to leave my old beaten-down self behind. I tried my hand again at man-to-man relationships.
First thing that took me aback was all the effeminacy I encountered in a gay community. I thought the whole point was the masculine-on-masculine. I was a bit freaked out by the entire package of "gay".
Next strike came in my first sexual experience, post-Gary. I was forced into anal sex by someone five years older and much, much more experienced than I. And it resulted in a case of gonorrhea. I was humiliated and degraded. The self-loathing returned. Where was the honor between men? I learned (rather bought into the lie) that a moral gay man (myself) was an oxymoron. My family and my pastors had been right: homosexuality was an evil.
Over the next three years with three failed relationships, I was more alone than I had ever felt. I was isolated in the crowds. I wanted what no one else on the planet wanted. I was searching for valor and integrity among men. I wanted an honorable man to love, and to be deemed honorable myself. Was I crazy?
I re-did the math of my life and came up with only one viable option to me. I denounced my desires for men. I didn't so much as go back into the closet as I walked straight on through and out the other side.
I joined the military.
And for three years I pleaded to my God for forgiveness. I begged, I wept. I swore oaths never to touch, look, or fantasize over other men again. I really never expected forgiveness; I was now resigned to an eternity in Hell for my crimes. I was unforgivable and condemned. I mentally flogged myself daily. I detested my homosexual longings. I hated myself.
After three years of this 40-lashes-every-day mentality, I had my pastor tell that I could in fact be forgiven. I could be re-baptized and lay my old life behind me as though it had never happened. I would never have to dwell on those things, those sins, again. Washed away. Gone. (The fucked-up things we buy into in the name of religion!)
But buy it I did. I even got married after having felt for so long that I would never be worthy of being some beautiful woman's husband. We started a family and I started a new (honorable) life.
Twenty-two years later. My phone rang while at work. It was my cousin, Gary. He had married an older woman who already had 3 kids of her own. And his health was in serious decline. His diabetes was greatly advanced. I knew of his kidney transplant years earlier. Now he was in need of another kidney transplant, but didn't think he was going to get it. His eye-sight had deteriorated, his circulation was terrible. He had been a stay-at-home husband/father for some time.
For the next two months we spoke on the phone every two or three days. We talked of family, jobs, our long-lost pasts. Everything except the memories of our summers together on the farm long, long ago. We danced around those damning details. But we did re-declare our brotherly love to each other over and over again. Sometimes he'd call just to tell me he loved me.
Two months into our calls my uncle called me to inform me that Gary had passed away. My uncle was a bit taken back by my calmness at the news. He was surprised to hear that Gary and I had conversed just two days prior.
I didn't go to the funeral for several reasons. For one, I was struggling to make ends meet and raise a family. Also, the funeral was three states away (Texas-sized states). And -- I wasn't really welcomed.
My wife and I divorced after 16 years. One of many complaints on her part was that the sex wasn't good enough for her anymore. Go figure. Actually, she just up and left. Left me and the three boys. But I would have laid down and died without my sons. If she had taken the kids with her I wouldn't be here or anywhere right now. A friend of mine told me that the nicest thing my wife had ever done for me was to leave; but it took me years to agree with that.
Three years ago at a family reunion, my uncle surprised me with a small photo album, all pictures of Gary. I thumbed through the photos of my young lover/cousin and when I came to one of the two of us, shirtless and leaning against my old pickup, glaring like a couple of thugs at the camera, I burst into tears. My uncle held me and I cried on his shoulder, right there in front of God and the entire Bible-thumping, tongue-clucking family clan. Then my uncle sat me down and told me stories of the past. He reminded me of the time Gary and I stole the neighbor farmer's tractor, drove it all the way into town, parked it at the local drive-in and walked back to the farm; of the time we started the back fence on fire when were four; of how we loved to (accidentally) let the big bull out of the pasture so we'd have an excuse to jump on the horses and chase it down. My uncle said they almost hated to get the two families together because Gary and I would kick and scream and cling to each other when it was time to part. Once the two of us got up early on the day they were to go home and let all the air out of the car tires. He said we were known as the terrors of the neighborhood. But when four bullies showed up next door to to pick on the mentally retarded neighbor boy, Nicholas, Gary and I jumped the fence to the rescue; we got our asses kicked but after that we proclaimed ourselves to be Nicholas' bodyguards and took him with us wherever we went. He said we were forever bringing home any injured or mistreated animal and nursing them back to health. Lord forbid you ever got on our wrong side and God forbid you ever called our bluff.
That incident with my uncle and all those tears I cried (the first cry I had allowed myself over losing my cousin, first as a lover/frot brother and later to death) started a change in me. I haven't been the same since. I may well be on the road to changing from a Zealot to an Atheist. Hard for me to imagine a Heavenly Father being so apathetic towards His children. And I've allowed for those old desires to bubble to the surface again: that ole timey wholesome wonder of man-to-man, dick-to-dick.
And now I've come across the Man2Man Alliance. I've found that elusive thing called home and brotherhood. I'd like to say I would go back in time and change everything, knowing what I know now, but only if I could be guaranteed my three sons in the deal.
I can blame society and family pressures for the downfall of my relationship with my cousin. But mostly, I know, I blame ourselves. We should have been stronger. We could have stood shoulder to shoulder and taken on anything, anybody.
So I'm writing this in honor of my cousin/lover/frot brother. And to all the guys who have the chance to make better informed decisions today. Nowadays, you have Bill and the Man2Man Alliance backing you. If Bill's message doesn't light a fire in your chest, then I do question your heart. You can be a man of Honor and Valor and still want that good ole dick rubbing with a trusted brother. Moral and Gay don't have to be antonyms.
We need everyone's help in putting a new face on man-to-man love. The first words people think of when they hear "gay" shouldn't be 'anal' and 'promiscuous' and 'party boy' and 'diseased'. "Gay" doesn't even need to be the term. But the new associations that come with men loving men should be 'Valor' and 'Honor' and 'Fidelity' and 'Good Community Partner'. And 'Warriors' for any good cause.
I believe that everything you find on the Man2Man Alliance website should be developed into a college course and taught at universities around the globe. Taught until the Man2Man concepts are no longer relevant because they've become so integrated into society that they are no longer "issues". Then it can be taught as a History class. Hey, maybe I'm dreaming big. But are there any other Dreamers out there??
Dream on, Warriors. Ever onward.
Lawrence
Re: in honor of my cousin/lover/frot brother
9-27-2007
Thank you Lawrence, for this wonderful and very touching memoir.
I'm very sorry for your loss of Gary.
I know such losses are terrible to bear.
Lawrence, when Gary knew he was dying -- he called you.
He called you to tell you he loved you.
As you said, "over and over again."
At the end of his life, that's what mattered to him.
So maybe your families and the bible-thumpers didn't win after all.
They caused a lot of suffering.
But they didn't win.
Because they couldn't destroy your love.
And in that light, I want to comment on this paragraph:
I can blame society and family pressures for the downfall of my relationship with my cousin. But mostly, I know, I blame ourselves. We should have been stronger. We could have stood shoulder to shoulder and taken on anything, anybody.
Luke Shelton had a similar take on the wrenching apart of his adolescent love by vindictive parents.
He blamed himself for not trying to do more, against the violent wishes of two wealthy and very powerful families, to preserve his relationship with Stephen.
But it wasn't realistic in his case and it's not in yours either.
It's not realistic to think that two teenaged boys, Lawrence, living where and when you did, would have been able to stand up to that sort of parental and familial and religious pressure.
It's not realistic and not fair to you and Gary.
"I can blame society and family pressures for the downfall of my relationship with my cousin."
That's correct.
"We should have been stronger. We could have stood shoulder to shoulder and taken on anything, anybody."
That isn't correct.
No way you guys could have done that -- not there and then.
It would have been nice -- but it wasn't possible.
If it had been -- if you could have seen through all the lies they were telling you -- you would have done it.
But you couldn't.
I couldn't either when I was that age.
Neither could Luke.
Which meant that you -- and we -- were doomed:
~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca
You were lied to.
"We could have stood shoulder to shoulder and taken on anything, anybody."
Had you been raised in Sparta -- maybe.
Had you been raised to understand the value -- both implicit and explicit -- of Love between Men.
But not raised where and how you were.
The point being that the culture has to change.
From one which teaches boys to be weak.
To one that teaches them to be strong.
Strong Men.
Men who are strong enough to Love other Men.
Men of Honor, Valor, Fidelity.
Warriors.
Thank you Lawrence.
You're a true Warrior.
As was Gary.
Bill Weintraub
September 27, 2007
PS
Guys --
Having read this reply, please re-read Lawrence's post.
And then read it again.
No one can be happy who has been thrust outside the pale of truth. And there are two ways that one can be removed from this realm: by lying, or by being lied to.
© All material Copyright 2007 by Bill Weintraub. All rights reserved.
Re: in honor of my cousin/lover/frot brother
9-29-2007
Lawrence, what a terrific story. Thanks a million for being open to share your victories as a MAN as well as the pains of being turned down by religion, family, and the "gay community". I am in the midst of that battle myself. Most of my friends know about my position as a Man2Man guy, but I have not revealed the info to my family for much the same reasons. I am very close and still live with my parents who are also in that religious right camp. I am still seeking the courage to look them in the eye and say, "I am a Man2Man guy." I know how difficult it is. I wrestle with the questions, "Will they still accept me? Will they disown me? Will they want me to seek 'help'? What will my church think of me (as if there is any question in my mind)?"
You are a beacon in this grey world of haters and fakers. Thanks for being that MAN for others.
Justin
Re: in honor of my cousin/lover/frot brother
10-1-2007
I was very touched by the story of Lawrence and Gary. I too have had a similar experience with my own cousin. He lived a hundred miles away but growing up we just somehow connected at a very early age. Eventually, that connection turned into a physical relationship as we became lovers and frot buddies. We were sooo good together, the emotions were so vivid and real. There were no secrets between us and we connected in every possible way. Into our teens he introduced me to his pastors daughter with whom I developed a pretty close relationship as well. In the beginning though, the only reason I went for it was to give me an excuse to make the trip every weekend and spend that weekend with my cousin. We double dated so we were together the whole weekend through, every weekend. Then when we took the girls home, we returned to his house and spent the night together in love and affection that only a frot relationship delivers.
I will never forget all the excitement and love that existed between us. Things changed eventually, as he declared himself gay to the world and I was not able to do that. I became ashamed to be seen with him because everyone knew we had always been close. I didn't feel I had a choice but to pretend to disown him, as not to incriminate myself. I regret that now, and the hurt I caused him. I felt he had hurt me as well, for outting himself was almost sure to out me also, and I wasn't going there. He went headlong into the whole gay scene, ending up as a bartender in a gay bar, and getting totally into the anal sex, tongue on ass, feminine sissy boy lifestyle. We couldn't have been more different after his switch. I felt I had not only lost my frot brother, but my cousin as well. I wanted so much to go kick the ass of the degenerate that pulled him into the scum of todays idea of what "gay" is.
Many years have since passed and through death in his family, he has returned home to that small Missouri community to take care of his mother. Since then, we have been in contact, and still today I love him dearly. The connection is still there although our lives went seperate ways years ago. I still get excited to see him and when we are alone, I always love the opportunity to hold him close and let him know I still love him. Sexually, it's not the same anymore. We did try once a few months ago to make love together as we once did. His attempt at frot was half hearted and I knew he really wanted something else, that I can't give him. As we lay there, I was overwhelmed with not only love for him, but fear for what has happened to him and for what may lie ahead for his health, if he hasn't already come in contact with something he may not be aware of himself. As much as I would love to re-introduce him, if at all possible to the joys of total man2man love, I know the man he was will never return. He's lost his masculinity and was lured into the only male to male lifestyle he could find. I on the other hand chose celibacy instead of that life of sickness and disgust.
I am thrilled that he is still alive today, and for the chance to continue loving him in the only way I can (non-sexually), but I certainly miss the man he was and in many respects I feel that comrade I had all those years ago has been long dead. The trust between us, although still there, will never be quite the same, and is not total trust anymore. I worry for him and where he'll end up. Oh how I wish that todays image of men loving men would just go completely away and love could return to take its place. It grieves me to watch "gays" searching their entire life to find true love and compassion, only to fall victim to a sick lifestyle that robs them of the very thing they crave, and their masculinity in the process. Back to a time before all the openness, life was so much simpler, for when you found a man to love, it just happened and so spontaneous, genuine and natural, without stereotypes or feminism involved. That is so hard to find. I have lived an adult life of almost total celibacy because everyone today has been coaxed with the idea that loving another man means giving up your own manhood, and many men like myself don't know where to turn for that love. We try marriage to a woman, trying to maintain who we are, but without finding the sexual fulfilment we crave. We deny ourselves the attraction for another man because we are so un-attracted to the stereotype of being "gay" in today's world. I am thankful for this site, and am excited about the possibilities it brings. I am a 48 year old white man in NE Oklahoma, lonely, missing the past and longing for a man, a lover, a frot brother and best friend. And the clock is ticking........
Re: in honor of my cousin/lover/frot brother
10-3-2007
The posts here are all fantastic! I think they demonstrate clearly some of the persecution that some of us faced growing up in the camp of the religious Right. And if you grew up in that camp then you know I am not exaggerating when I use the term "persecution." In that camp everything sexual is SIN and of course sin is bad and deserves punishment and more persecution. Not so long ago the "in phrase" in the religious Right camp was (and still is BTW) "hate the sin but love the sinner." Ha! If only that was practiced but, alas, it is NOT. Many of us growing up in that camp came to find out rather quickly that not only were we hated for our "sins" of liking other males but we the "sinners" were hated as well and that was very apparent most of the time. That phrase is just one more bit of HYPOCRISY that so riddles the religious Right and I DO mean HYPOCRISY!
As a boy of about 12 years old I remember being whipped (ie: beaten) with a willow switch for having been caught with the next door neighbor boy of my same age doing the "nasty." I was not only whipped/beaten with the switch from the willow tree but I was then forbidden to associate with my neighbor and best friend whose name was Ted. Of course this "sin" was just too much for my religious Right parents and they needed help in dealing with my "sinfulness." So, the solution was to call in the calvary (ie: the holy rolling Preacher of the Congregation). This "holy man of the Lord" was nuttier than a fruitcake on Christmas day as far as I was concerned at the time. He explained to me the "sinfulness" of what we were doing and assured me that if I continued do engage in such "sin" that I was guaranteed a place in none other than the infamous HELL itself. For Eternity BTW. The guy was nuts alright but he was an expert manipulator psychologically and he achieved pushing all the right GUILT buttons within me so I would REPENT of my SIN the following Sunday morning in front of the ENTIRE assembled Congregation. Boy! What a SIDESHOW that Sunday morning was complete with holy rolling, speaking in tongues, crying, yelling, and the whole 9 yards. Of course from there on I was reminded DAILY just how much JESUS HATES SINNERS! Guilt is an amazing psychospiritual WEAPON especially when used on a boy like me at my age of 12.
The next "solution" that came out of the Preacher's mouth was that I just had to go to Christian Boys Camp for 2 weeks and associate with "normal" boys my age. So, about a week later I found myself being loaded up into the Church van and being whisked away to Christian Boys Camp and 2 weeks of TERROR, all in the name of JESUS but of course! So, there I was in the middle of nowhere with about 50 other boys my same age dwelling in "nature" complete with beds and army style barracks in the name of JESUS. There was one BIG problem however that the Preacher seemed to not know about. That problem was that there was a lot of FROT going on every night in those barracks! Wow! Sin...Sin...and even MORE SIN! And right in camp itself that was suppose to turn us into good Christian boys! So what did I learn at camp in those 2 weeks? That FROT was NORMAL and that the lunatic Preacher was in fact a LUNATIC! I think the Preacher's plan for my "salvation" backfired all the way.
The day that me and my best friend were "caught in sin of nasty" was truly a day that lived in infamy. It was NEVER forgotten and I was reminded of it for years. My parents succeeded in ending my friendship with Ted and to top it off we moved so that I was ensured never to engage in "sin" with him again. I haven't seen him since and, IRONICALLY, today I hear that he is a Preacher in the camp of the religious Right! Well...Praise JeSuS!! I just hope he remembers himself as a boy and doesn't too harshly condemn others for the very behavior that he once engaged in daily with me.
I think the posts here are great and they address an issue that CLEARLY NEEDS to be addressed and RESOLVED. The DAMAGE done to boys growing up in the camp of the religious RIGHT is astounding! Not just the psychological damage BUT the SPIRITUAL DAMAGE as well. I hope this discussion continues and more WARRIORS contribute their thoughts, opinions, and insights here because this IS an issue that NEEDS to be discussed.
Re: in honor of my cousin/lover/frot brother
10-8-2007
Oh yes, the religious right...
I also have a story of conviction and confession.
I went to a Christian private college. One chapel session my freshmen year it was open mic day. The chapel leader encouraged everyone to share what God was doing in our hearts. I felt the conviction to share my struggle with the "sin of homosexuality", right in front of nearly the entire campus of students, say 1700 to 1900 people. Sure, I got all emotional and started blubbering about the way all of these people loved me in a world where I had looked for love in the wrong places. So there I was in the middle of the large building before all my peers and before God, it felt so releasing to get it off my chest, I felt like a new person, clean of all that filth.
But the feeling of wanting to love a man never left. I still, deep down, wanted that close physical / emotional / spiritual bond with a man. It haunted my dreams. I dreamt about being naked with my roomate. When I awoke, I begged God to take the evil out of me. How many times I begged God to take it away? I don't know. It still is there, my dreams are still dotted with images of man to man love. If God can heal every sin, then maybe my M2M dreams are not a sin...
This time, I don't fear the dreams. It is who I am, I crave the closeness of a M2M relationship like I had when I "explored myself with a childhood friend" back in the days of the onset of puberty. We were close, we could share anything together, a bed, our hearts, our dreams and fears. I have never been so close to someone as in those days with my buddy. Deep down I think every man craves a close bond with a special friend, even if it is only subconsciously.
We are all brothers here. We all know how it is, how it feels, that longing. Will this world we live in ever accept the simple truth of this? There are no tops and bottoms, no butches and femmes, no dom/sub bullshit. ONLY BROTHERS!!!
Justin
Re: in honor of my cousin/lover/frot brother
10-16-2007
Thank you Justin for your post. I think many of us have battled with the "sin" of M2M just as you have only to discover that it is NOT a sin at all but is completely normal. You wrote:
Deep down I think every man craves a close bond with a special friend, even if it is only subconsciously.
I absolutely agree with you! Even if some men will not admit to it we ALL crave a close bond with a special friend who is male just like us.
And, you're right. There are ONLY BROTHERS here and that IS a true LIBERATION!!
Robert
Re: in honor of my cousin/lover/frot brother
11-6-2007
Damn that was a great piece of writing!!! It's got Man/Male/Masculinity ALL over it!!!
All crowned with the creation of 3 sons to pass on your wisdom and your DNA.
I could go into specifics but that would take so long right now. I AM deeply touched by your story of true-MaleNess, with it's tragedy and all. HOWEVER, having created 3 young men of your own out of the struggle, is itself a triumph of the Male-Hero-Protagonist.
You HAVE won.
Your story reads like movie treatment, something that could REALLY be turned into a film script--absolutely applicable to our time.
You sound cool dude. I hope to meet you some day...
NakedWrestlerBoy
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