Wednesday, February 13, 2008

My First Time

Mike was my very first serious boyfriend. I was 13 when we met – my uncle was engaged to his sister (no, we were NOT about to become relatives you sick sick perverts). He was gorgeous and funny and a wonderful dancer/performer and I had a huge crush from the moment I saw him. Under constant teasing from the family, we finally exchanged phone numbers and for one year, we spoke on the phone every night. Neither one of us had a license, so we relied on relatives and friends to drive us the 50 miles to one another’s homes.

And of course, we saw each other at family functions ;)

Our normal meeting place was the mall by his house. I could usually convince one of my aunts to do some shopping while Mike and I made out in every store. I remember kneeling down behind the shelves in a bookstore and experiencing my first extended French kissing session. I, um, liked it a lot.

I’ll never forget the time he brought ME a rose after one of his performances. Nice touch, right? While the family was visiting in the basement, he laid me down in the living room and kissed me so tenderly I wanted to melt. When I felt his weight on top of me, I knew it had to be love.

He taught me how to give a handjob. His instructions were to hold it, move my hand up and down and squeeze ever so lightly. I made the mistake of telling my girlfriends this I was forever known as Squeeze Cock (this ryhmes with my last name).

Mike was also the recipient of my first ever blowjob. Our families had gathered at a hotel to celebrate a birthday and we took a walk outside. We ended up in the bushes on the outside of a glass wall that bordered the indoor swimming pool. I was so engrossed in trying to coordinate my mouth and my hands that I didn’t notice my cousins yelling our names, trying to find us. Mike grabbed me and held me still until they passed a few feet from where we were hunkered down. We waited a few minutes and sheepishly crept back in to the party. I stuck to giving out hugs instead of kisses to my grandparents when we left.

I knew I wanted to lose my virginity to Mike, so I found a friend with a car and headed down to Planned Parenthood for birth control pills and condoms (as I'm sure every 13 year old does). At home, I hid them inside a telephone-shaped pillow I had made in home ec.

I was obviously no slut, so I waited until I turned 14 to actually do the deed. While the adults were at a daytime event, Mike and I were left at my house under the supervision of my 12-year-old sister and my 15-year-old best friend. Being more concerned with watching the Hangin Tough New Kids on the Block video than keeping an eye on us, Mike and I were able to sneak up to my room.

It was goofy and awkward and OH DEAR LORD, the pain. It felt like someone took a knife to my down belows. But I was in love, remember. I overlooked the misery and Clarence Carter”s “Stroking” playing in the background, kissed Mike’s forehead and told him how wonderful it was.

4 comments:

The Ambiguous Blob said...

awwwww... so romanic.

Ginormous Boobs said...

Strokin is a romanic song...

Stroke it Clarence Carter
But don't stroke so fast
If my stuff ain't tight enough
You can stick it up my...WHOOO

pistols at dawn said...

No one should ever overlook Strokin.

Ginormous Boobs said...

POD: Everytime I hear that song I get nostalgic..and a little wet.