A true experience from forty-three years ago when I was 13, demonstrating that grooming, seduction and masturbation of a young boy by an older man is not a new thing, but has always gone on.
As a young boy during the late 1950's, I was a regular cinemagoer and, from the age of nine in 1956, my parents allowed me to go to the movies completely on my own, although I rarely ventured further than the nearest town, which was a two mile bus ride away. Like most English boys, I was uncircumcised and had been masturbating for as long as I could remember. I have no idea how it all started, perhaps through seduction by a childminder when I was an infant or perhaps through excited self-experimentation when I was left to my own devises. I can remember back to when I was three or four years old and I was certainly enjoying the exquisite pleasures of laying in my bed and rubbing my tingling erection to one gorgeous dry orgasm after another even in those days.
I was 12 when I first ejaculated and I recall this caused me some concern at the time, as I thought I had had one 'tickle' too many and was bleeding white blood. I couldn't ask my parents about this, as it would be tantamount to admitting that I played with myself, which in those days was considered very naughty and dirty and forbidden. So I just stopped masturbating for a few days, which was very difficult for me. After about a week, the feeling of sexual frustration was really building up in my groin and all I could think about was playing with my dick and cumming. Eventually, the desire to masturbate became overwhelming and I just had to do it. Again, I ejaculated this white, creamy liquid and I soon decided that whatever this stuff was, it was not doing me any harm and eventually, I accepted it and just enjoyed it. I was already a chronic masturbator by this time and was addicted to the intense pleasure of orgasm. In fact, I loved my cock and the pleasures I could enjoy playing with it and would definitely masturbate to orgasm at once a day.
Now at this time, when 'A' certificate films were being shown (children under sixteen not allowed in unless accompanied by an adult), it was a common sight in those days to see little boys (and girls) standing outside the cinemas looking out for a sympathetic adult and complete stranger to take them in to see the film...leading to the now legendary request: 'Will you take me in, mister?' I remember doing this on many occasions. Sometimes, the man, after he had taken me in, would sit beside me and share a bag of sweets with me and sometimes he would sit somewhere else. Although, at the time, there was never any sense of danger about any of this, the modern parent would be horrified at this then commonplace practise. But in reality, incidents of a young boy being sexually interfered with in a darkened cinema by a man who had taken him in to see an 'A' rated film were extremely rare and nothing untoward happened to me in this respect until I was 13 in 1960.
What you are about to read is a true account of that event and I wrote it to give documentary evidence of how in those days a man sexually attracted to young boys went about befriending, grooming and seducing his intended victim. It should be explained here to younger readers that in those days, there was no such thing as 'stranger danger' or of children being chaperoned everywhere as they are today by paranoid parents brainwashed by the media into believing that there is a child abductor on every street corner in the country just waiting to pounce on their little Johnny. Children wandered about freely on their own; strangers pushed them on swings in the park without anyone batting an eyelid and, to us kids, there were two types of grown up. A man who talked nasty to you was your enemy and a man who talked nice to you was your friend.
I remember the following incident as though it were yesterday. It was around 12:30pm on a dull, overcast Wednesday afternoon in 1960. I was thirteen and was standing on the steps of the Focus cinema looking at the stills of the film that was on that day, Killers of Kilmanjaro. I was dressed in light blue jeans, was wearing dark brown sandals and fawn coloured socks and had on a black mackintosh raincoat that was belted around the waist, in the fashion of that time. There was something else about me, though, that wasn't noticeable. I had a hole cut purposely in the right hand pocket of my jeans, so that I could put my hand inside and fondle and play my genitals whenever I felt like it. To aid in this, I also wore no underpants under my jeans. It aroused me to think that I only had to pull my zip down and my young boyhood would flop out in all its erotic and forbidden glory. I had masturbated to orgasm the previous night and by now, was feeling like another cum. As I stood there, I realised I had forgotten that the Focus didn't open on a Wednesday until 4:30 pm, so I thought I'd wander about town and find somewhere to hide away so that I could pull my willy out and enjoy a nice 'tickle.' Just then, a man came up the street and stood beside me, also looking at the stills. He was aged around 45 to 50, of slim build, with short but wavy greying hair and wore a dark blue jacket and trousers. 'D'you think it's any good?', he asked me. 'Well, Robert Taylor's in it', I answered, 'so it can't be that bad...he was in Ivanhoe...I went to see that at the Alhambra a few months ago.' 'Well, there's a coincidence', said the man, 'I went to see Ivanhoe there as well. Where were you sat?' 'In the middle stalls', I told him. 'Well, there's a funny thing. I was sat there, too', he said. 'We could have been sat near to each other.' 'Yes, it funny, isn't it?' I remarked. 'My name's Joe...what's yours?', he asked. 'David', I said. 'Ah, that's a nice name for a boy. It suits you, too. How old are you?', he asked. 'Thirteen', I answered. 'Why aren't you in school?', he asked. 'It's still the holidays', I told him. 'I don't go back until Monday.' 'Oh', he said. 'What school d'you go to?' 'Moorside', I told him. 'Well, there's another coincidence', he said. 'I helped to build that place.' 'Did you?' I asked. 'Yes', he said, 'I helped to lay the floors.' 'Well, that is a coincidence', I remarked. 'Yes, it is, isn't it?' he said.
After a moments silence, he said 'Well, it's no use you waiting here all afternoon for the Focus to open. Why don't you go across to the Empire to see The Rise and Fall of Legs Diamond?' 'I can't', I told him. 'It's an A film and they're very strict about it at ABC cinemas. I'd have to have a man take me in.' 'That's no problem', he said. 'I was going there myself...I'll take you in with me if you like.' 'Oh, would you', I said. 'Thanks a lot.' 'Come on, then', he said, 'if we hurry, we can get there before the film starts.' 'Alright', I said, and we strolled together across the road and down towards to the Empire.
In the foyer, I got out my ninepence to go in the stalls. 'That's alright', said Joe. 'I'll take care of it.' and he paid for us to go in the circle. 'Oh, thank you', I said. 'Don't mention it,' said Joe. 'Anything you want while we're here?', he asked. I looked at him, a bit unsure. 'It's alright', he said, 'pick anything you like...I'll treat you.' 'Well', I said, 'I'd like a bag of caramels', and he brought me a bag. 'Anything else before we go up?' he asked. 'Well', I said, 'I'd like an ABC Film Review'. He bought me an ABC Film Review, too. On the way up the stairs, he asked me how much money I had. I counted my money and told him that I had 1/3d (about 10cents). 'Here', he said, putting his hand in his pocket and bringing out some coins, 'this'll help you out.' He'd given me five shillings...equivalent to £5 or $8 in today's money. 'Cor, thanks a lot!', I exclaimed. 'Don't mention it', he said. 'We're friends, aren't we? I like to help a friend out.' At the time, in my naivety, I just thought he was being kind. But he had another motive for his generosity that would soon become apparent.
It being a Wednesday afternoon matinee, the cinema was deserted and so was the circle and, as there wasn't even an usherette up there, we made our own way to our seats and sat down...he on my right. The film hadn't started yet and the house lights were up and the hit record of the time, Theme from A Summer Place by Percy Faith and his orchestra was playing softly in the background. It was nice and warm in the cinema, so I stood up, took off my mack, sat down again, layed it across me from my waist to my knees and began to look through the magazine. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I could see that he was more interested in looking at me. He was kind of looking me up and down and weighing me up. 'Do you like being thirteen?' he asked. 'Yeh', I answered, still looking into the magazine. Then, after a short while, he leaned across again and asked, softly, 'D'you play with yourself?' I smiled nervously at the thought of him knowing about my naughty secret and, perhaps too embarrassed to answer, just stared into the magazine. But he could tell by my reaction I did...I think he just wanted to hear me say so. 'Come on', he coaxed, softly, 'you can tell me...I won't tell anyone...it'll be our secret. Do yuh?' I should have denied such a thing when asked about it by a stranger, but I was a truthful lad and, for some reason and after a few moments thought, I said 'Yeh.' 'I bet you do', he said. 'I bet you can't get enough of it, either...I bet you're always at it' 'I'm not', I said, glancing momentarily into his eyes with an embarrassed smile and then again looking into the magazine. 'I bet you are', he said, squirming. 'I bet you've got a lovely one...I bet you can't leave it alone. I bet you can't get enough of it...I bet you've always got your fingers on it.' He leaned across again and asked, softly, 'What does it feel like when you're playing with it? Go on, you can tell me, I won't tell anyone.' When he could see me hesitate in answering, he coaxed 'Come on, David, nobody'll know...just you an' me. Tell me what it feels like.' 'It feels dirty.', I said, quietly and nervously. My saying those words got him trembling with excitement. 'D'you like it when it feels dirty?', he asked. 'I love it', I told him, furtively. 'You dirty little boy!', he said, excited by my answer. 'D'yuh do it every day?' 'Yeh', I answered. I think he sensed that this unusual conversation with a stranger was exciting me and arousing me and he again leaned closer to me. 'D'yuh feel like playin' with it now?', he asked, softly and suggestively. 'Yeh', I answered, quietly and nervously. 'Go on, then', he coaxed, ' don't hide it inside them jeans...pull it out and give us a quick look...I've been dying to see it ever since we met.' 'I can't', I said. 'Somebody might see.' 'They won't', he said, softly, 'there's no one in here but us. Go on, stick it out an' let's have a look at it.' 'I can't', I told him, 'not here.' Just then, the lights started to dim and the show started.
After a few minutes, I suddenly felt his left hand under my mack, squeezing my right leg just above the knee. I was startled by this and wondered what he was up to. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before in a cinema and I didn't know what to do about it, so I just sat there, staring at the screen, and did nothing. That fact that I wasn't objecting in any way to him doing this encouraged him even more and he moved his hand further up my leg, squeezing it as he went.
It didn't take long for him to reach the area between my legs and he began to grope and rub me there. The jeans I was wearing were made of a thin cotton material and, especially with me not wearing any underpants, it was quite easy for him to feel the shape of everything I'd got underneath them. He soon found the tip of my foreskin through the material and began tickling it with his forefinger. He could tell he was arousing me, because he could feel my young boyhood getting bigger and stiffer underneath the material. At this point, I actually said something. Leaning towards him and, speaking softly and trembling with an embarrassed excitement, I asked him 'What...what d'you think you're doing?' But he didn't reply. Somehow, he knew that these words were just a token resistance...perhaps something I was expected to say in circumstances like this...and he was sure that I was the kind of young boy who wouldn't stop him going further...that I wanted him to feel me like this and that I enjoyed it and he was right. He then moved his hand further up and undid the top button on my jeans. All this was happening underneath my mack and in complete silence, except for the film soundtrack playing in the background. 'Some...somebody might come', I said. 'No they won't', he said, 'why d'yuh think I brought you up here?' Then, he pulled my zip down and let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction as he felt my stiff member in the flesh. I breathed in sharply as I felt his hand on it. He squirmed with delight as he enjoyed himself, fingering my testicles and my nick and pulling and squeezing and fingering my young boyhood. I moaned softly with pleasure and, straightening my legs, moved forward and lay back in my seat. It was at this point he knew there would be no further objections. Then, he masturbated me frantically as he leaned towards me and whispered obscenities to me, saying I was a dirty little boy and telling me how much I loved playing with my dirty little dick and so on, all of which had the desired effect of bringing me to orgasm. I shuddered, screwed up my face in ecstasy and let out a soft moan as I thrust my groin up and down and ejaculated into his hand. Then, he squeezed my erection tightly, shuddered and let out a stifled moan. I looked down to my right and in the gloom, I could see that he had his hand inside his trousers and had masturbated himself to orgasm while he continued to grab hold of mine.
After the last throes of orgasm died away, he withdrew his hand and wiped it on his hanky, then wiped himself, while I pulled out my hanky and wiped myself underneath my raincoat, before pulling my zip back up and fastening my jeans. Just then, a couple arrived in the circle. What a narrow escape that was, I remember thinking at the time. Joe, mindful of the courting couple's presence, just sat there as if nothing had been happening and, after a while, he said 'I'm just going down to the kiosk for something. Wait here, I won't be long.' 'Alright', I said, and he went. I waited and waited, but he never came back. I just sat there on my own, all the way through the feature, supporting feature, adverts, trailers, newsreel and again the feature, just thinking about what had happened and knowing I could never tell anyone about it at the time.
I have often thought about the events of that afternoon so long ago and of the consequences had we been caught. At that time, 1960, it was a criminal offence, punishable by imprisonment, for two men to have sex in private, let alone a man and a young schoolboy in such a public place as a cinema. If we had been caught, he would have been sent to prison and I would have been taken away from my parents and put into care as a sexually deviant juvenile or something. I can't help thinking, though, that he was not short on nerve and had probably done this kind of thing before and was very experienced at it. He knew how to talk to a young boy in order to get what he wanted and he got what he wanted with me.
I would be pleased to hear from you at Solo what you think of the above true story and I wonder if other readers and contributors have had the same type of experience at the age I was then or even younger and what they think of it now.