Case Narrative

A Consenting Juveniles narrative is a first-hand account reporting the words of the research subject on his or her experience.

The narrative on this page is an anonymous account of an interview conducted by SOL Research. All names of persons and places, as well as other personal details have been changed.


His house was like an oasis — a place where I could just be.

Source:   SOLR interview, in-person, audio recorded plus journal

One never knows during an interview how closely the memories reported match with the reality of what actually took place. But Jeff supplemented his interview in a way that no one else has done in this research. He had mentioned that he kept a journal in his youth and that he still had it. Later, he provided it for review. The journal is a fascinating, real-time record of the same girlfriends and boyfriend that he had talked about, complete with doodles, drawings, and notes about homework assignments. Some quotes from the journal are incorporated here into the excerpts of the interview transcript.

I was the little boy who was into dancing around the living room to Donna Summer. I was very into disco and gymnastics and ballet. My mother wanted to go to the disco and my step-father wouldn’t. I had a sense that that was not a typical, macho thing for guys to do.

I was always very curious about men. All my life. Which I knew was not something, really, to talk about.

My first memory of being interested in my penis was when I was ten. I was trying all sorts of different ways to stimulate it, to put it in things, or play with it. Like a toilet paper roll lined with tissues. Or pillows. When I was twelve and started ejaculating, I had these pillows in my room that were filled with dried-up cum.

I had a little underwear obsession. I’d pick up my step-dad’s underwear off the floor and put them on. They’d be huge on me. But I’d hold them up. Then I’d get hard, and that would hold them up.

I went through my phases, like having girlfriends in sixth grade, seventh grade. They were basically my cover. But I would spend long times making out with them, kissing and being almost sexual. Almost, because I didn’t really want to go there. I still have their love notes. One girl was always after me, for years. She was relentless but I wouldn’t put out.

I really enjoyed the company of adults. If there would be a function, like a party or something, I would rather hang out with the adults than go play with the kids. My mother had this friend who was chatty, very intelligent, and just really cool. She was great. She really enjoyed when I would visit and she would hang out with me.

I was 13 when my mother and step-father divorced. She was 32 and had this 22-year-old boyfriend for a couple of years. It was interesting.

He had kind-of a tragic life. His father was dead. His brother had hanged himself. So he was kind-of miserable and drank a lot. But he was this tall, Italian guy with dark, curly hair and I just thought he was really cute, sexy. And he was fun. He was cool.

I spent a lot of time with him. My mother would work in the evening, so we’d hang out. He’d get all drunk and pass out on the bed or the couch. So I’d be lying in my bed and he’d be right there in the living room, snoring outside the door of my room. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep and would just think, “Maybe I’ll …”

It was very frustrating. Because I was in this little town and there wasn’t a lot of opportunity to contact anybody. So I couldn’t help myself but take advantage of him. He was my opportunity.

So I’d sneak out there and play around with him in his drunken sleep. He’d be wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I had to get in there. I opened his pants and took out his cock. Very carefully. And played with it. And sucked it a little bit. I didn’t want to do too much and get caught. But it was exciting.

I did it a couple of times.


Journal, age 15: “I often think about it and wish there were someone lying in this bed beside me that I could just put my arm around and feel secure with. Maybe I will in a few years, but what do I do now – I guess I’ll just have to keep living the same way I am now – alone – except in my thoughts.”

And a few months later, “I’ve been feeling depressed/lonely lately. I dunno. I want a friend. I mean, I have a lot – But look, most are all girls. Well sure there are some guys – Hal, Tony, Peter Nichols, but I don’t know, none of them are really great friends. Maybe I want too much, but I want someone to be a close friend (maybe deep down what I want is a ’boyfriend’).”


The next year, I was in community theater, in a show, and there was this girl. She was in college and had this friend and we all were palling around together. He was 20 and I was 16. He had a party at his house and I went. When everybody left, I stayed. And then we got down to business.

The next day, I went to school, feeling really great. Like, “Wow! I’ve really had this amazing experience.” I couldn’t tell anybody, but it felt really powerful. I felt empowered.

I saw him for four months. We dated. My mom liked him and she let him come over and spend the night. It gave me the opportunity to have-a relationship with somebody, rather than having these fake girlfriends, who I liked, but it wasn’t genuine.

We’d go to his house. I remember now the feeling of being there. It was like an oasis — a place where I could just be.