Ianthony- Is this right?

part three

It takes you half an hour to calm down. It takes you three minutes to jump in the shower. It takes what feels like hours to wash yourself to a acceptable standard. In reality, it takes twenty minutes. It takes two minutes to throw out every dirty magazine you own, and each of them makes you feel disgusting.

Anthony had long since driven off, most probably hurt and confused. You don't care, though; all you want to do is wake up. This isn't real. This isn't happening. Your virginity is still intact.

This is happening, though. You was raped by your best friend. The statement bites you, and it makes you feel almost feminine. Your masculinity has been shook.

Of course, you are male. You have to shave in the morning, and you have the correct figure for a teenage boy. You are a little on a short side, however, and have always been one of the shortest boys in class.

Your bright blue eyes have also bothered you. Blue has always been a feminine color to you. You figured at an early age that it was because of your mother's liking for blue. She wore blue most days when you was a young child, so you suppose that blue has always been associated with female things in your house.

You lost your virginity to a man. Another man. Not a woman. You was bottom, and your body enjoyed it. The feeling of having someone inside you was so different, so unique. His penis hitting your prostate felt good. Your body didn't realise it was rape.

Does enjoying being the receiver make you more female? You've never considered wether of not you like males or females; You just assumed it would be the latter of the two.

Anthony was the reason you brought porn magazines; You stopped at his house once and he pulled one out from under his pillow. It was old and tattered, but the both of you stayed up half the night, throwing dirty comments to and thro.

You masturbate to female pictures. But how do you know that you mind isn't visualizing something else?

Your eyes widen as you think of this.

'Anthony is just a friend.'

'Anthony doesn't love you.'

'Anthony is straight.'

All of of these thoughts comes into you head moments you slapped him. They were the truth. They've been screaming to be known for ages, aching to be released into the conscious. You're in love with Anthony. You are in love with the man who raped you.