The Lust of Love: Part 1: Sid

By Michael Robinson

Sid expressed what he thought was love, sexually, but after the immediate pleasure he felt nothing. Ambitious, his working career continued to advance but his relationships seem to end empty. Over time Sid makes gains in the concept of love, only to have tragedy enter and set him back. Sid finds out he has not one, but two boys and they become the love he had always been seeking. Eventually Sid even finds his one true love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9781667887692

Book preview

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The Lust of Love

Part 1: Sid

© 2023, Michael Robinson. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-1-66788-769-2 (eBook)

Contents

PART 1: Sid

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

PART 2: Miguel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Preface

This book was written based on personal experiences growing up in a dysfunctional home in part. A good amount of this book is based on third party experiences with people of similar beginnings. The long-term effect of not having the a family unit comes with different outcomes for different individuals. All have lasting effects though they differ greatly.

Let me introduce you to Sid.

Imagine growing up in a dysfunctional home in Missouri where you feel your very existence is not wanted in the so-called family. An environment where you are demeaned at every opportunity including public humiliation, and private harassment. A stepfather that can’t stand you, which leads to a mutual hate developing, festering to the point of leaving home at sixteen.

The previous marriages of your mother had left you as a bastard child with the first marriage, a sexually abused child in the second marriage and a totally unwanted child in the third marriage. This has been all accomplished by the age of ten.

That was Sid’s beginning of life. Devoid of love and full of behaviors that would not seem normal to anyone. Striking out at an early age, anything to be away from; that place called home.

Sid had always worked the family farm and hired out to any farmer needing help to earn money, landing a job before leaving home. He had no conception of love, he wanted closeness and affection, but it was always expressed sexually, but found him devoid of that feeling of love.

Being blessed by a high school counselor who helped Sid get a grant to go to a trade school for mechanics. Fortunate to find a mentor/employer after he graduated from trade school, he was learning how to be a great mechanic. Tragically after two years of mentoring Phil his mentor would be killed in an auto accident.

Sid’s world was crushed and but for Phil’s son Phil Junior who would help him get a job in another state, New Mexico. Sid exceled in his trade. Through a good measure of luck, he was able to meet a businessman who saw the potential in Sid. Seeing that Sid was ambitious and furthering his education through college evening classes he formed a friendship with Sid.

Though Sid’s business life was going well, finding Lilly, whom he had fallen in love with was leaving, over this inability for Sid to profess his love for Lilly. Sid had several previous encounters, but this was different.

Throughout Sid’s escapades Lilly remained on his mind. There are tragedies, victories and frustrating moments in Sid’s quest to achieve a great life of abundance and love. He is quite the rascal at times with women. The thought is not of conquest but to fill that void which never seems to leave him.

Celli being Sid’s girlfriend from Missouri comes out for a week. Sid and Celli travel around New Mexico. A week filled with love making and travel. Little does Sid know the week had produced more than a week of pleasures; Celli was carrying a child.

Eventually Sid and Lilly reunite through a series of events. Life is great for a while but tragically life gives Sid another unexpected moment that shakes him to his core.

Sid immerses himself in his business life. There are more adventures to come into Sid’s life with women, and great success in his new career in the construction industry. He finally finds the love he wanted.

The book is full of life, lust and eventually love. There are many changes, heart breaks, aches, and the search for what he always wanted, someone to love. I think you will enjoy The Lust of Love Part 1 Sid

Part 2 will be coming out in 2024

Thanks

Chapter 1

Life is still a mystery to me. Do you remember the first time you were aware that you were here in this world? Strange, how our lives just began. There is an anchor point moment you always go back to when you think of your life. The moment happened when I was three, and for some people this moment is much earlier than others. I think it’s the beginning of your thought patterns, that will become the first building blocks of what we become. That is the moment I became Sid.

My first recollection of life was when I was standing in my crib. I could see my mother in the other room with a man I did not know. I was wishing my mom would come pick me up, but she didn’t. Not long after that moment, she would marry the man, and he would become my father by adoption. I do not know why the memory imprinted on such a young mind, but it is there.

My mental recorder must have started earlier than most, I wish it had not. Not long after, I remember standing on the porch holding the hand of the woman who would become my grandmother. My mom was wearing a navy-blue dress with white polka dots; the man was wearing a suit.

They were having their picture taken. My soon-to-be grandma said, They were getting married. Now you will be my grandson. That was the beginning of mom’s pattern of initiating change and filling in the blanks later.

I was told I would have a new brother. Apparently, my brother started his journey before they got married because he arrived soon after the wedding. I had a brother at age four. I had a sister when I was five.

This memory has remained in my mind. Later when I would ask about the memory, she would say Sid you were only three. You can’t remember that; someone must have told you."

But I do remember, I would argue. She would change the subject.

Most people aren’t aware of when their anxiety begins, but it’s there. You can’t ignore it when it raises an ugly head. This memory of anxiety appeared to be unlike like the fears we are born with such as bright lights and loud noises. My anxiety just appeared. I think some of us are to acquire instinctual fears at a young age. The only reason I can give for a memory creating anxiety, is when childhood comes into my mind.

During the marriage to this man, Robbie that I would never come to know much about. He had adopted me as part of the package, and the idea was reinforced, that he was my father, but something in my mind always said, No! Robbie is not your, father. I would also come to know how a husband can be cruel to a wife though, and he would be my textbook example.

Robbie’s mother, my grandmother was a sweet woman, who in later years would come to regret not intervening on her son’s behavior. My Grandpa was a drunk, and a bad one. He would soon, not be able to work for his drinking and left Grandma to support them both. This was sad to see. Even at a young age, I knew something was wrong but did not understand what. Grandma always tried to put on a happy face like everything was normal.

My adopted father was not such a great man either. He would beat my mother on regular basis: not great memories for a young child. I remember the beatings, but I did not understand why. My little brother and me in our room hearing sounds of pain, and crying, I cried for mom.

The beatings began early in their marriage even though mom gave him two children, which would make most men happy. Apparently not him, I would often call out to mom saying I was sick or had a stomachache, hoping to get him to stop. My pleas would work sometimes but not often.

Dysfunctional people sure mess with the mind of a child. The long-term effects can lead to some perpetuation of a behavior. Thank God I have never laid a hand on any woman in anger or otherwise, but I have witnessed similar behavior over the years.

I have spoken up to a few of these woman hitters over the years, with some success. Occasionally, their anger turned on me. I cannot stand them.

Chapter 2

Before my fifth birthday, I started kindergarten. This was my first experience mingling with a bunch of kids for an extended period. I thought it was okay but quickly realized, some kids are really spoiled rotten by their parents.

I remember at kindergarten, we all had mats for naps and got treats every day. We learned our numbers and letters.

I met a classmate named George, who always smelled like garlic. One day I asked him why he always smelled like that.

I got worms, and my mother says garlic prevents worms, said George. Mom puts garlic on my toast in the morning.

Besides, I don’t mind George remarked.

The next morning, I asked mom to put garlic on my toast.

Why do you want garlic on your toast mom asked?

George’s mom says it keeps you from getting worms.

Stay away from that boy. The last thing I need is you getting worms, she said with all the prowess of her sixth-grade education.

I did not quit being George’s friend because, he was about my only close friend in kindergarten.

Things really changed for me after I was in first grade. My so-called father would start taking my mother out on the weekends. I guess he was trying to make up for the weekly poundings in his own way. This was his own personal carrot and stick behavior, unfortunately his method was heavy on the stick and not so much with the carrot.

He had his younger brother baby sit me and my younger two siblings. His brother was nice to us, and would always bring candy and toys. I was hoping the going out would make life better for mom and us kids, though we were not the ones being beaten, yet.

When you are up in your room and hear the beating is going on, you experience a childhood anxiety, and for some of us it never goes away. As you get older, the anxiety comes back stronger each time, shaking your head wondering why? You know there are many of us out in this world with similar situations.

My uncle had been babysitting us for a couple of months when one night, he asked me to pull my pants down. He told me to bend over the couch and the next part hurt. He was putting his penis in my butt, I cried a little, and finally he stopped. I felt something wet dripping down my legs. I could not understand why this kind person was doing this. I remember him telling me, It’s okay Sid, I really like you. You are my special friend. This will be our secret" I felt scared and confused, I was getting attention from this man but not the kind of attention I wanted. The strangeness had not ended, he wiped off my butt and turned my little penis to his face.

He sucked it. It felt weird, but after a minute it felt tingly. After a short period, something was coming out, he kept moving my penis up and down with his fingers. By six and a half years old I had been molested by my uncle.

My mother as it turned out was always busy with the other two children. My younger brother and sister had more urgent needs. I was the child of the first failed marriage. She was trying to keep the second marriage together. For some reason in her tangled mind, she wanted to hold on to this marriage, but, for how long? How many beatings is enough?

This molestation would continue over a period of a year. The strange thing was that someone was paying attention to me, and he seemed to care. This was a period of confusion, I didn’t know what gay was, I did not know anything. What would a six-year-old kid know, about this part of life, and why should they?

My opinion would not really matter, as I got older, I would realize how little my opinion really meant. My father was mean. Mom often had black eyes and bruises. I had no feeling for the man other than anger and mistrust. As I would get older, there would be times that mom would listen to me, and promise, but promises never happened. Trust was gradually slipping away with those un-kept promises. Some would call this double minded; I just would come to know it as lying to your face.

Chapter 3

Sometimes when you wish for a change it happens. The beatings got worse and more frequent. My mom’s youngest sister Barb told her adopted parents about my mom. All my mother’s siblings had gone to the orphanage and Barb was adopted out of the place.

My Aunt Barb was the youngest and mom was the oldest of eight kids, they all ended up in orphanages, except for mom. Mom was too old, and they would not take her. My Aunt Barb had been adopted by a couple who could not have children; they were older but seemed nice.

Very few of her siblings were adopted, most were placed in an orphanage. All three of my uncles had at least one stint in prison, and it seemed partly due to their time in the orphanage. Most of the kids had a rough life but they did the best they knew how with no parental guidance.

Barb’s adopted parents were concerned and wanted to help. Apparently, they felt the behavior was not normal and mom needed to get out of the situation. They were the only good people I knew besides my adopted grandma. Barb’s parent really wanted to help. My mom finally divorced this man because of the continual beatings and my molestation stopped.

We moved in with the unknown relatives. Halley and Leon were Barb’s adopted parents. Life can be perceived as sad, but I had no markers to compare it to, so I figured this was just life. I knew that I was fatherless now, but it seemed just as well that the man who beat my mother was not in our lives now.

At least he was not in our lives very often. Mom would make us go with him sometimes and he would try to act like he cared. We would go to the park or to his new girlfriend’s house, but I never got close to that man and never really looked at him as a father figure.

The time was to come soon when my classmates would have a new name for me, Bastard, I had to look up the word. So, I was fatherless? The father’s I had so far, a bastard didn’t seem so bad at first until, the kids made it sound like an incurable disease.

Mom seemed to be happy, she got a waitress job she liked and told us to be thankful, so I was. When you are poor, small things seem to be big and bright if they are good. Going for a store-bought hamburger and milk shake is wonderful. Unfortunately, as you acquire wealth small things become insignificant to most. I always remember the small things.

We lived in what seemed like a rich neighborhood compared to where we lived before. I’m sure it wasn’t, but the houses were all new. There was a small creek and woods surrounded what I would come to know as a development. This area sure was nice and I felt lucky to live in this new development. People were nice, and it was easy to make friends with the kids around here.

We were treated well by these unknown relatives. We were told to call them grandma and grandpa and they acted like they were grandparents. I thought it was a good time in my life, I found friends and went to school. Nobody was fighting, people weren’t hitting each other, yes, this time in my childhood seemed normal.

During this period, I turned eight years old. I had friends, and one friend was Annie. We hung out a lot after school and would go to the woods by the house. Annie was a tom boy in some respects; she picked up a Gardner Snake one time and wanted me to hold it, I declined. Annie knew the woods very well for only being just over eight years old.

She would show me where different birds’ nests were, and how to find frogs. We spent a lot of time in those woods, I really enjoyed having her teach me about nature.

Annie was a very touchy person with me her arm or hands on me, but I liked it. One day she kissed me and asked me to kiss her back. I did, and then she wanted to touch my penis. I unzipped my pants and let her, she pulled down her pants and said touch mine. I did it was exciting!

Annie and I would play that game often in the woods. She would have me put my penis inside of her. This ritual made us both happy, I know we didn’t know what we were doing but we liked it.

I don’t know if her home life had been as screwed up as mine had started out, she didn’t share. I would not ask, because I would feel obligated to tell her about my experience, and that wasn’t going to happen.

I felt ashamed about that experience and would carry the shame for many years.

I think at eight I fell in love with the ritual, it was the most amazing thing. I thought that girls were so lucky to have one of those. Being enamored with a young girl’s vagina, is not a particularly normal attraction at eight, or maybe it is.

All I knew was the female and all her treasures were now a part of my thoughts and desires. This feeling would remain in me to this day.

I looked forward to our trips to the woods after school and besides playing with each other she was my friend. We began to share more about our lives at home. Annie had her taboos she would not share, and I had mine.

I think Annie had been molested too by her brother who was seven years older than she was.

I felt close to few people since I became aware, people can be cruel, but Annie was an exception. The one other person that wanted me to be close, made me feel dirty and ashamed. Annie made me feel neither, I felt good; she was good, even if we were doing this thing, we both liked very much. The behavior may not be acceptable to others, but this closeness felt normal to us.

Life was good in my world, school was tolerable but after school, Annie and I played. We played in the woods and often with each other. This seemed normal to me, because Annie and I were best friends. The days passed, and I was happy for the first time.

Looking back, I would have to say Annie was pretty sexually aggressive for her age, but I liked what we were doing. Strange or unusual for kids of that age to experiment with each other at that age? I don’t know.

I had no basis to associate what was normal in life so far. There were few events where normal had been in my life on a regular basis. It would be many years before I understood what that word normal means, and in some cases it’s overrated.

Chapter 4

Mom came home one day and said, we were moving out of town, she had gotten a job waitressing at a Steakhouse and she would make good money. This was a terrible blow; my world was crushed. When school ended, we moved to the country, I had to say goodbye to Annie, we promised to see each other again but never did, I never forgot her.

Country life was hard at first it seemed lonely. You could not walk over to a friend’s house. I did not know any kids and the nearest house was over a mile away. What had she gotten us into this time? The life seemed so lonely at first.

Lonely, is a feeling you acquire when you really don’t have a family unit. You know the people that have one mom, one dad and brother, sisters, and pets. The life I came to envy as a child and always have the hope that you would have that family unit one day.

Mom let me put a garden behind the house. I dug up an area, about six feet by eight foot and spent a lot of time getting the soil, turned over with the shovel, and raked smooth. She took me to the nursery where we bought some tomato plants and pepper plants. She bought sweet corn, carrots, peas, and squash seeds.

I planted the tomato and pepper plants as soon as we got home. I read the seed package and planted them just like the package said to do.

It was amazing at how many plants came up from one package of seed. I enjoyed this experience, tending my garden daily. The plants were growing, healthy and strong. Farming must be a great lifestyle where you get to make things grow and be around animals.

Eventually school started, the kids teased me at first because I had come from town. There were your normal bully’s that would test you out. One made a reference to me not having a father, a word I would hear often, not only the kids, but whispered by the parents.

Mom had taught me one thing well and that was not to be afraid of anyone. A lesson she had learned well after the last marriage. I had a couple of scuffles with the bully’s but once you draw blood at that age it is all over. Call me certain names and I’ll be happy to bloody your nose and lip.

I met a couple of friends through school, they were farm kids. I helped some of my friends do chores after school. I learned to shovel out the gutters at Roger’s dad’s dairy farm and bale hay at Larry’s dad’s farm.

Hard work became fun to me; it gave me a place to put my energy in a good way. I liked being around animals, you always know where you stand with them. Unlike people, you know if the animal thinks you will harm them, their actions are straight forward.

I learned not to be afraid of them just because they were big but to respect them because they were big. Animals will be curious and sniff you, some are easy going and some are mean, not much different than people.

Animals are far less deceptive than people, as I would learn growing up. Yes, people are the most deceptive and dangerous animals on the planet. You may separate yourselves as human beings. Their greed and envy do not give them a pass, it makes them more dangerous than any other animal.

Animals are purer at heart than humans, there lines of protection and survival are very defined and consistent. People have a lot of the same characteristics as animals, but they also have that mean streak in them. Most animals do not have a mean streak unless they are taught to be mean.

Humans also have the ability, to be cruel and some enjoy the cruelty. Animals will only attack if provoked or afraid, not so with humans. The worst behavior is that of humans, many will calculate revenge and carry anger for years.

I have carried anger, but not revenge, my personality tends to tear the page out of the book if it can’t be settled. From childhood I knew, I would be there, carrying my anger, distorting my perception of the world. Always knowing the feeling will be hard to shed.

The feeling leaves a hole in you, not knowing how to repair it. I had felt it surface without the tools to handle it at this age. The anger can lead to feelings of less than, maybe your worth is not on par with the rest of humanity.

You seem, to never put your finger on it, but try to substitute for that missing ingredient with various behaviors. I was no authority on anything at this age but so far, I had met some people who really do not have your best interest at heart.

Little did I know that I was about to have a relationship with a new so called, stepfather. This guy will make me understand hell on earth, why I am not sure. There are some people that you meet, and you have an instant disdain for, and this is how this stepfather felt about me.

I would come to hate this man deeply, and it would take years to get over this feeling.

Chapter 5

Mom had started dating this man a farmer, she kept him to herself, us kids had only seen him once or twice but briefly. Aunt Barb came to live with us to help with us kids. Barb she was a nice aunt, and her boyfriend Gene who was nice and always treated us well.

Life seemed normal again; being in the country was becoming a great place. I was learning a new way of life being close to the earth and animals. There is something unique about the country life, it not only toughens you, but it makes you so much more aware of your surroundings.

How many people have had the opportunity to help bring a newborn calf into the world? Maybe get up before the sun and be working a sweat as the sun breaks over a corn field. Have you watched the ground that had been planted and see these little plants spring up that would become big stalks of corn?

Farm life makes you realize that life is amazing. Some of the greatest pleasures in life do not have an admission fee. Only the challenge to open your eyes and be aware of your surroundings.

My ninth birthday I got a pellet gun a Crossman single shot rifle. Roger from the dairy farm had one. I put in some money I had earned from working with Roger’s Dad and Roger. Mom put in the rest. The best birthday gift I had ever received.

Roger had a Crossman, I had shot it several times, and now I have my very own! Roger and I would go down to the peat boughs after chores and shoot birds. At first the birds had the advantage over the ammunition, but with practice that soon changed.

Roger’s dad would point out the kind of birds that were a nuisance to the farm and we would put them on the wanted list. Eventually we moved up to larger game like rabbits when they were in season. They were good to eat once Roger’s older brother showed us how to clean them.

The school year was about over when Mom dropped her next bomb on my life, she was going to marry this farmer, Joe. He had asked her, and she said Yes. We were moving to the other side of the town we had lived in and were moving out to the farm.

This was getting hard to swallow. Our lives mingled into my mother’s pursuit of happiness. This event was going to be the beginning of the end of family as most people know it, even in our broken family.

I did not realize the changes to come or the hardships to be presented to me. This forthcoming marriage, would teach the words demean, degrade, deprecate, and belittle, all to be learned very well. I would also understand the word hate.

I was nine now felt like going on twenty with my varied life experiences, at ages not normal for a child. Child hell, I had never enjoyed much childhood. I had been expected to keep the peace with my brother and sister. I assigned them chores to do around the house.

My aunt had married her boyfriend and was off on her own life, so I was the guardian of my siblings. Maybe, nine is not a great age to be a babysitter for a seven and five-year-old kids, you think? Maybe that is why I have never cared too much for kids, selfish isn’t it.

Life was beginning to seem like it could establish itself, only to have Mom crash it. Unfortunately, her pursuit became our pursuit. I don’t believe she intentionally sabotaged any happiness, but moms are what we pursued. A pattern for the next six and a half years living under their roof. When a stepparent detests you and won’t even acknowledge you are their stepchild it hurts deeply.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger they say, and I was becoming like a piece of iron. The combination of physical work on the farm, playing sports and constant walking out in the fields to stay away from the house had turned me into a lot of muscle with little fat. Though the six and a half years age ten to sixteen before my departure from the family unit, was hell.

Mental humiliation and constant reminding of being worthless. The funny part about being so worthless, my teachers would not buy it. They said I was intelligent and had a good head on my shoulders, and I should consider college. Silly teachers, I guess they should have my stepfather come in and straighten them out.

When you’re trying to do something to make your stepfather proud of you, and his response is, he’s not my son, and I’m not his father. The uncomfortable silence that follows was deafening, and very hurtful. The statement occurred frequently.

Public events in town were worse, he came to one of my sporting banquets, gosh that was awful for me. I felt as if I was being described as a mentally handicapped hired hand, seriously, he hated me.

I was tired of getting that feeling of embarrassment when I would introduce him as my stepfather. "He would retort, a quick denial of he’s not my son, or I’m not his father as if even saying my name,