Who is to say that I could not consent to it just because I was 10?

Jo reports about the four-year relationship with a teacher at his school. The relationship continues as friendship till today.

Source: Campaign Against Public Morals, Paedophilia and Public Morals. London: CAPM, 1980.

“Allan was a young school teacher of 24 who came to my primary school. At first I would walk home with him to talk and laugh. Then it came to staying for tea, and this relaxation in formal ties led to expressed affection. His hand stroking my leg, or ruffling my hair or stroking the back of my neck, or even my bottom. Or my caressing his face, loving the feel of the stubble, and my own kids like to do that without any of the other connotations. Plucking up courage one day to kiss him just because I liked being with him.

And we talked — about everything. Parents, adults, ideas, sex, heroes, TV, music we both liked, school, the future for me, his love of the Greeks which he gave to me, along with many interests which were his and which he delighted to share with me. There were other qualities experienced, not taught — mainly a gentle tolerance.

It came to sexual contact through horse play. No doubt it cost him agony. Wrestling in his living room floor after tea on a wet winter evening, he ended up on top of me and between my outstretched legs ensuring by his movements that I was aroused and that I could feel his excitement. He had shown great restraint but now he suggested that it would be better if we removed our clothes, which seemed quite natural to me, even though I wasn’t sure what was to come.

I know I wanted to see him nude and for him to see me so. The shock of seeing his substantial erection was not so great as to deter me. Rather I was prompted by fascination and frank pleasure as he embraced me to prepare me for sexual contact. It is hard to define, but perhaps a sensible parental attitude to nudity and sexual arousal made it less than alarming.

The notion of inability to give consent, validity, seem ludicrous. Allan and I wanted what was happening. I don’t know what (is) meant by too early penetration, but after masturbating me, Allan could not contain himself by my reciprocal action, and thus I had my first anal intercourse.

Many men are reckoned to be insensitive lovers by women, intent solely on their own gratification. Allan was highly sexed and reasonably endowed, yet he made me feel that my pleasure was his main desire, that it was love not cunning seduction. I felt for him as great a love as I have felt for anyone. Who is to say that it was not valid or that I could not consent to it just because I was 10? To be caressed, brought to satisfaction, and opened to such passion and love was entirely acceptable to me, and I co-operated to make the very best of it.

Allan experienced predictable guilt and remorse after his climax. ‘Are you angry, Jo, that I really wanted you like this all the time?’ And I remember telling him, as best I could, that I wanted it too, that his sex with me as a boy wasn’t wrong, that it was a natural part of our love.

The relationship endured until I was 14, with frequent anal and oral sex, but it was one part of a richness we shared. It was encapsulated by the holiday we spent in Scotland in a cottage he rented for six weeks. Painting my picture. A gift of a bike. Seeing dawn over the sea. Arguing like fury over his lapse into authority (and reconciliation and apology).

My first ejaculation, and my first time of being the active partner. Attending a folk concert. Practical jokes. Our relationship was interrupted by his promotion to a deputy head — he was a marvellous teacher, loved by all the kids — and his move away. (…) We saw one another during holidays and at weekends. Over the years, we have kept contact as our relationship was more than just the sensual gratification of one man. (…)

I am pleased that he now has a 15-years-old boy lover, Simon. [sic!] But I will always be there if needed. People do dreadful things to their kids — I don’t mean rape or physical abuse. Kids are filled with all kinds of perversion: hate this person, cheat your neighbour, lie, trample on the rights of others, bow to the state, believe harmful religious fairy stories, feel guilt about love, make a god of material possession. I had no consent, nor has any child, to refuse such filth. This is the abuse of innocence, not where Allan stuck his penis or whether I was ‘corrupted’.”