Growing up an introvert (Part 2)

What I saw that afternoon lingered on my mind for a very long time. The sight of nicely shaped brown thighs was very appetizing to my imagination. What’s more, there was the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, a white panty. I do not know for how long I kept peeping in there, occasionally looking up to see whether somebody was watching me. The book in my hands was probably upside down, my mind totally distracted. The woman eventually closed her legs but I just sat there waiting for the gates of paradise to open again.

peeping

From that day, I had found a new hobby, which became an addiction. It gave me sexual satisfaction. Every time I went to that library, I always first scanned the entire room to see whether there was a woman in a skirt. If I were lucky to see one, I would proceed and look for a seat directly opposite her or just near her. In most cases, I never found a lady in a skirt, or the ones I found never opened their legs. Sometimes they did when I was not in a good viewing position. In such cases, I would drop a pen and then throw a glance under the table as I picked up the pen. I would then look for a good point to peep from, even if it meant squatting between the bookshelves.

I do not know if there is anyone else who ever did this or it was just me. I think I had a psychological problem. The funny thing is that I never talked to girls then. I was an introvert. I was shy, awkward and naïve. I looked at girls and just fantasized in my head. I just stared at them but never approached them. I touched a few (don’t ask me how) but that is as far as it went. When I was 5, we played kalongolongo with other kids in the neighbourhood. We cooked ‘food’ in tins and plastic containers. We made a house, furniture and other household items from clay.

We even did mock weddings. I ‘married’ a girl called Ruth in an elaborate ceremony. (We used to call her Ruthu, she is probably reading this) One of the kids brought a cake from their home and we celebrated with song and dance. We then played cha mama na cha baba, a game mimicking the roles played by dad and mum at home, but we didn’t get intimate at that point (or any other point). I liked her though and as we grew up, I began thinking that I would marry her one day. Of course, that will never happen, we hardly ever talked. I started paying more attention to other girls I met in primary school, Sunday school and in the hood, but still I didn’t talk to them a lot. Just a few words here and there.

See, I am the firstborn in a family of 5 boys. Yes, 5 brothers. I did not grow up with girls, so I did not know how to interact with girls. I just knew they were different but I never had the opportunity of seeing just how different. If I had a kid sister, I would have probably seen her being washed by mum. I grew up with that curiosity, itching to discover a woman’s anatomy. I heard that they did not have a dudu like mine so I really wanted to find out what they had and how it looked like. That is why I ended up in the library reading and peeping.