Friday, July 29, 2005

Come on and do me and do me and do me in.

I've never been a "typical" guy. I lost my virginity at the ripe ol’ age of fifteen, and instead of running and bragging to my friends, I kept quiet about it.

I was a high school sophomore “dating” an eighteen-year-old senior whose unabashed attention, wildness, and experience (not to mention ability to drive a car) kept me pretty constantly aroused. She got a kick out of exceeding my expectations—always ready to surprise me by going one step further than I thought she would go; always testing how far she could push before exceeding my comfort level.

And I fucking loved that. I was always eager to prove that I could take whatever she dished out.

We’d go to the movies and I’d daringly (I thought) slip my hand down her pants, and next thing I knew she’d be sucking me off in the theater. We’d be sitting in my parents’ house, talking to my mother, and she’d take my hand under the table, put it under her skirt, and slip my fingers inside her, both of us getting off on, I’m sure, different aspects of the experience.

No one I knew genuinely approved of our “relationship.” Not friends, not family, not teachers who saw us hanging around together at school. I’m sure that on some level I understood their disdain, but I didn’t really care, and so when they expressed it to me I pretended not to be able to understand where they were coming from. Of course, I couldn’t play the “but we’re so in love” card because even then I wasn’t harboring illusions of any real depth of feeling between us. And I guess that was just another element that made it distasteful to those observing it.

Truth be told, they all thought we were having sex long before we actually were, and I didn’t do anything to squash the rumors (ok, so that was a typical guy move). So when it finally happened, it wasn’t even something I felt any desire to share with anyone. We just went right on doing what we were doing, until eventually she lost interest and moved on to someone her own age.

And goddamn it, that actually hurt. A lot. I guess I hadn’t realized the extent to which I was just a toy to her, and the significance that I had attached to our “relationship,” whatever it was or wasn't. I knew that my friends, family, and teachers had seen it for what it was, and that was annoying. But of course I couldn’t let them know that. And adolescent self-esteem being what it is, it touched off a not insignificant period of self-doubt and self-loathing.

Nothing like a functional first time to set you off on a healthy road to sexual fulfillment, eh?

My first time with a guy followed a year or two later, and was equally unsatisfying. In fact, it probably bordered on seriously fucked up...

[You know you want to hear about it.]

8 Comments:

Blogger Lostinspace said...

So what about now? Is it getting any better?

2:46 PM  
Blogger P/O said...

hi lost. how could it not, right?

1:44 PM  
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6:01 PM  
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4:53 PM  
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11:46 AM  
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6:01 AM  
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