Even a White Rose Has a Black Shadow

White rose in black and white
Flora Westbrook on Pexels

I always knew I was different. From a young age I would enjoy being me, embracing mud over fashion, and outdoor pursuits over make up. My friends would despair, but I wasn’t worried. As puberty arrived and my friends would giggle over the latest pretty boys and heart throbs my mind was already in the gutter. I was at Bike ’97, with my brother and his friends, Dave Hemming (my hero at the tender age of 14) signed my tee-shirt, and in big black marker he drew an arrow under my ponytail and wrote “pull here”. I knew what I wanted that to mean…

This was the first time the mind of this White Rose tripped into the gutter.

Before long I had found my brother’s stash of porn, hidden under his bed. I remember reading a number of stories, fairly uninteresting to me even then, before flicking onto one. It was about a woman who was watering her garden (naked, obviously) and had become quite excited and started to pleasure herself with the hose pipe, which was still turned on at the tap. Her next door neighbour saw this from his bedroom window, and came down to help her out. I would return to this magazine with surprising regularity until he moved away to university.

Shortly before my 16th birthday I found myself in the back of a car with a smurf between my legs.

A fancy dress Halloween party, and the first time I met this charming 20-year-old who I literally dragged to the car for my first sexual encounter with another person. He then became my boyfriend, taking so many more of my firsts… after my birthday, of course! Over the course of our 18 month relationship I embraced my sexuality, very little that he could offer was off-limits… anal soon became my favourite, and toys.

The first time he took me to a sex shop I bought  myself a 10″ blue rubber dildo, with a decent girth. I had to keep it in a Jaffa cake tube under my bed (lessons learnt from my brother on where to hide a sexy stash!) but it went most places with me. I was hooked. My “first love” wasn’t to last though. One evening, while we were enjoying each others bodies his phone rang, he answered and had a chat with a lady who, it turned out, he had met and slept with the night before. And so my path changed…

Broken-hearted the white rose took her rubber cock and disappeared into the shadows…

I soon had a selection of “friends” who would satisfy my needs. I shut my heart off and focused on the pleasure I could take from them. Often fuelled by drink and other substances I partied hard, relishing my freedom. The following summer I went on a camping trip with my best friend at the time. A group of young men on the site took my fancy. She had her eye on one, and after dark would disappear with him. I took it upon myself to pleasure the others… I’d always wanted to be shared and this trip meant my fantasy could come true. Over three nights I explored and pushed myself, and on the final night I hit the jackpot…While she was in her tent with one, I was in their big tent with the other four.

They made full use of every inch of my 17-year-old body, and I loved it. 

With the end of the holiday came the craving for more, more, more. I embraced hedonism, filling my dance card and playing until the sun came up. I ended up at university, having somehow gotten through my A-levels. With a new city came new men, different restraints and new realms of pleasure. Moving to a city from a small town in the countryside was wonderful, but I had thought I would find more people like me. Not just men that I could enjoy temporarily before discarding when they got too close. There was no-one on my deviant wavelength, not that I knew of anyway. I had always been different, and though I never sought to be the same as my peers I hid those differences away, wondering whether there was something wrong with me for having these desires and satisfying my lust in ways my friends never discussed.

I presented myself as the white rose, keeping the shadows out of sight.

If you are enjoying A Leap of Faith please consider buying me a coffee, so I can write more posts like this one.


  1. Oh my goodness.. I have tears in my eyes reading this.. so eloquently written…
    If only I could give your 18 year old self a hug xx

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