Confessions of an Ephebophile

First-person accounts of my lifelong attraction to younger men and boys.

There is no pornography or illegal material here.

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Altar call

Of all the weeping boys on their knees, at the front of the campsite hall seeking the Holy Spirit, at the height of a dusty Indiana summer, I chose the brownest boy there. I didn’t know then what I was doing or why. Looking back, it seems obvious.

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