At 13, I ran away. Freedom tasted like a burger, but the first night was pure hell. I got caught, landed in a youth home. Absolute disaster. Then came Kevin. He was my anchor in all that shit. There, with him, I discovered my sexuality in a very weird way. I became gay. An intense chapter that shaped me.
- From Cushy Kid to Concrete Jungle
- The Runaway 1 – Discovering My Sexuality
- The Runaway 2 – The Price of Freedom
- Coitus Interruptus
Alright, my people! Tim here. 👋 Remember when I was chatting about my childhood last time and dropped that huge cliffhanger about the “running away” thing? You guys practically hounded me for the story, so here I am tackling it now. It was a really tough, but also super important time that intensely shaped who I am.
Imagine this: 13 years old, backpack on, 120 Euros swiped from my mom (sorry, Mum! 😬) and that awesome feeling of freedom – that’s how I was sitting on the train to Hamburg. Barely had it started rolling, doubts and fears crept up. But I was always good at just pushing that stuff down. At the main station, I had no clue what to do. I only knew the city from shopping, so off I went to Galeria Kaufhof.
Freedom Tastes Like a Burger
I strolled alone through the departments, without any supervision. I couldn’t care less about most of it, so I headed for the sneaker stores. I loved being independent, even if that nagging guilt kept popping up: “What have I done? Was that right? How’s my mom doing?”
But with a burger and a sundae at McDonald’s, all those bad thoughts vanished. That burger, it tasted like freedom. No rules, no accusations, no arguments… There was an exciting lightness in the air, a feeling that anything was possible.
I walked through the streets, searching. Scanned every facade, every piece of graffiti, every group of boys my age. I stopped at a bookstore – yeah, I’ve always been a bookworm – and browsed. I bought a book and wanted to read it right away. So, off to a park, heading towards Millerntor Stadium. I sat on a bench and read, which kept the bad thoughts at bay. But then two police officers walked by, and I jumped. And bam – there they were again, the bad feelings and the guilt.
The shock hit hard. My stomach tied itself in knots, the lightness was gone, replaced by a leaden heaviness. I couldn’t concentrate anymore, closed the book, and wandered aimlessly through the park. “What if they’re looking for me? Am I a criminal?” And the worst part: “What have I done?”
I felt lonely, saw other people laughing, and didn’t know how to just meet people. It got darker and colder. I had no idea where I should sleep. So I looked for a bench in the park, used my backpack as a pillow, and tried to sleep. No chance! My head was spinning, every sound made me jump. I was freezing, felt damn alone. That night was hell; I cursed, cried, and wished I had never run away.
As it slowly got light, I dozed off for a bit. Then – BAM! – I was roughly woken up. Two uniforms stood over me. They took me to the police station. I was so embarrassed, tears streaming as I told them about my mom. Then the call came: I was found and was on my way home. The train ride back was the longest of my life. I knew what awaited me.
The Home – Hell on Earth
At home, all hell broke loose. Mom was relieved, furious, and exhausted. We yelled at each other, cried – pure chaos. The days after weren’t any better. The mood was in the basement, then came the inevitable conversation with the youth welfare office. They heard our story, and then came the suggestion: the home. I protested, Mama cried, but it helped nothing. I ended up there. A completely new world that, at first, felt like the end.
So, guys, here’s the next tough one: My time in the home. That was truly hell on Earth, no joke. I hadn’t felt comfortable there at all from day one. The other boys? Absolute disaster. I couldn’t relate to them at all. They were just smoking and gaming, or totally reckless. And you know what? They also picked on me because I just wanted to read in peace. “Bookworm!”, “Nerd!” – that’s how it went all day. I just wanted my quiet, but that wasn’t an option there.
And the supervisors? They just lectured me or made up rules that made no sense. I felt totally misunderstood, like ‘ne number they had to control. School? Dude, super crappy! Nothing motivated me; I just did the bare minimum. My grades were in the toilet, but I didn’t care. The main thing was that the day passed, and I didn’t have to hang out with the others. I just retreated into my own world, hoping that this time would pass quickly.
But you know what? There was one bright spot. A single one. His name was Kevin, blond, athletic, and half a year older than me, but a lot further along in development, as he’d been in homes for over 3 years. And honestly, without him, I probably wouldn’t have made it through there.
Kevin and I – we were like two who just didn’t belong there, but that’s exactly why we found each other. We immediately clicked. We were so similar, in all that chaos, in that feeling of being out of place. We talked for hours about everything possible: why we were there, what we wanted to do later, and how crappy everything was. We listened to each other, built each other up, and sometimes just sat in silence because that was enough. He was the only one who truly understood me without me having to explain much. Kevin wasn’t just my friend; he was my anchor in that dark time. He made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone, even though it often felt that way otherwise.
Porn, Kev & The Kick
Okay, guys, hold on tight, because now it’s about to get real! As I said, Kevin and I were inseparable at the home. And you know, when you’re stuck in such a cramped space, with hardly any privacy, and boredom kicks in, the wildest ideas can pop up. One day, Kev showed me a straight porn on his phone. And honestly, that was wild. Somehow totally unfamiliar, but at the same time, it had a seriously strong appeal. So different, so new, you know?
Naturally, that led to the idea of us experimenting together whenever we could find a corner where no one would see us. It started super easy, like mutually Timing off when we could hide away or lock ourselves in somewhere. We were young; this sexual discovery journey was truly exciting, appealing, and, most importantly, it was hot!
I remember it like it was yesterday: We were chilling in the woods one day, just talking. He showed me another new porn on his phone, and at some point, the conversation shifted to him wanting to know what blowing someone was like. Bam! We decided: We had to close that knowledge gap! And since he was the older, “more experienced” one of us, it was clear who had to play the “girl.”
That was the first time I had a dick in my mouth. And even though I can tell you now that the blowjob I gave back then was absolutely terrible – no joke! – it was still a genuinely hot experience. In hindsight, I wasn’t unhappy at all about being the “girl.” And that had nothing to do with wanting to be a girl; it was about the moment I realized: I’m gay! I like guys! 😂 Totally funny how you discover your sexuality, right? Yeah, that was my first blowie, but believe me, it wasn’t the last.
These special Kevin moments were pretty much the only positive thing I took from my time in the home. The rest? Pure crap, honestly. All that BS with the other boys who picked on me, school that I didn’t care about, and that constant feeling of being trapped – that was just nauseating.
But the absolute horror came when Mrs. Paulsen caught us. She was one of the supervisors, always strict and with eagle eyes. I can still see it: Kevin and I, we had snuck off somewhere again to be undisturbed. And I was just in the middle of showing him my “qualities as a woman,” as I called it back then, when suddenly the door burst open. There she stood, Mrs. Paulsen, with a look that said it all. You can imagine the shock, right? That was it. That was the moment the world stood still.
Man, guys, after Mrs. Paulsen caught us, that’s when the real trouble started. Both Kev and I got into huge trouble. We had to go to tons of meetings with the staff; our free time was cut – you know, the whole routine you’d expect when you’ve really messed up in a home. And the worst part: Kev and I weren’t allowed to go off alone together anymore. Not even for a walk without someone watching our every move. They were really on our case.
As if that wasn’t enough, the other boys somehow got wind of it too. And then, as a “dick-sucker,” I was even lower on the totem pole. They bullied me even more and made my life hell. The stress just multiplied, and I felt like I was suffocating in there.
After what felt like an eternity, maybe about a week, Kev and I somehow managed to meet up for a quick chat. We really had to hide to avoid getting caught again. He brought up how I’d once told him I ran away from home. And you know, in this whole chaos, in this goddamn confinement of that home, we got this crazy idea: What if we just ran away together?!
Kev said he knew a guy where we could probably crash for the first few days. Suddenly, that spark of hope was back, that taste of freedom I had felt before.
Yeah, there it is again, the cliffhanger… I know you hate me now. But how it all went down next, I’ll have to tell you another time. One thing I can reassure you about right now, though: My blowjobs today are way better than they were back then. 🙂
- From Cushy Kid to Concrete Jungle
- The Runaway 1 – Discovering My Sexuality
- The Runaway 2 – The Price of Freedom
- Coitus Interruptus
