Tag: sex

12. Against The Grain.

I began to talk to this guy almost every day. We’ll call him…Jesse. We began to play this game asking questions about each other. I learned he was from out of state, that he lived in his dad’s house and lived a ways from where I was at. Over the next few days, I found myself stumbling onto his profile almost a little more than necessary. I looked through his pictures so I could really get a good look at the guy I was talking to every night.

He was becoming cuter and cuter to me the more we talked. He was definitely wasn’t my type. He sagged his pants (which I fucking hated) and liked a lot of rap. But then again, they say that opposites attract.

We decided to go and meet up at a concert. We arranged rides to get there. I remember sitting at the venue, eagerly waiting for his appearance. Then I saw him. I could tell he saw me too. He smiled and turned away shyly. Okay, I thought to myself. I’m gonna have to make the first move on this one. I was not used to this. Being married had definitely done a number on my dating skills. Of course, I never dated much to begin with.

I walked up to him at the bar. He turned to look at me, said hi, and looked away. He was definitely shy. I believe I asked him to go sit at a table together. He said yes and we started talking. I don’t know what we talked about, but I remember I was extremely flirtatious. I kept my hand on his thigh, whispering in his ear (also, it was a show so it was loud. The key is to not be too sexy). I remember asking him if I could kiss him. Lord knows he wasn’t gonna do it on his own. This boy needed some help. He nodded and I made my mood.

The sensation that coursed through my body was amazing. The kiss was different, for I had not made out with anyone with facial hair and he had more than I had ever been used to. I deepened the kiss and remember running my hand through his hair. Then, I, ever so classily, took his hand and put it in front of my leggings. This was to be my new persona. I could literally be whoever I wanted with this guy. I wanted to be bold, sexual, and desirable. He was the first one I had ever met that I could be that way with. It was dangerous, naughty, and tons of fun. Excellent date.

I told him he could come back to Hannah’s place that night, if he wanted to. He did, but knew he’d have to ask his dad. He literally waited until his dad was about to drop me off and got out of the car and told him he’d be back home the next day.

And then he never left.

That is the story of how I met the man that would someday become my entire world, unbeknownst to myself.

2. Inexperience leads to experiences, and not always good.

My first real boyfriend in tech school for the military started receiving indications that I was a little baby-crazy. Now, he was nowhere in the position to be knocking my baby wanting tendencies, solely on the face he was married. That’s right, married. Judge me.

Judge me all you want. Because to you, I’m just some bitch you met on the internet. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. That’s the whole point of this. But yes, my boyfriend was married. But listen, in my defense, his wife knew. Yes, now this took a different turn. I had met him out a field while we were doing PT. I was injured and so was he, so we were standing on the edge of the field. Well, he was. I’m a lazy-ass motherfucker, so my broken-ass was sitting. In a pile of red ants, I’d soon discover. He was a short mexican boy, with a really fun attitude, and some charm. He was ridiculously smart. Like, the kind of smart you can’t stand. There was shit he talked about that so so scientifically intricate, I’d zone out while he talked because it was just too much for my brain. It was embarrassing really.

I don’t remember how it all started, but he said something about his wife coming to visit. Then he mentioned the idea of a threesome. Apparently, that’s normal now. I did not know this then. I had sheepishly told him I was a virgin. And I was for the most part. I’d experimented with girls when I was younger, but I’d never had a dick in me. Fairly impressive for an 18 year old girl.

I once messed around with my high school teacher when I was 17, and I got caught. Worst high school graduation ever. That teacher was married too. Apparently, I attracted married men. And then with it. Because I’m a moron. For someone who was a virgin, I was kinda turning into a big hoe. That should have been my first clue.

But anyway, he suggested I come out with them one evening and see what sex is like. There was no pressure for me, just to simply observe. Let me tell you, for a virgin who’d never actually held a man’s dick in her life, watching two people you didn’t really know have sex was one of the weirdest experience I had until that point.

I felt intrusive, as if I was watching something I wasn’t allowed to see. Like, why was I there? I was a little uncomfortable, and a lot shy when they pulled me over to the bed. As mentioned before, I had a little experience with girls, so when they invited me to do stuff to her, I was like, okay, I can do this. It was a little more comfortable. I don’t think I did anything with him, although I can’t remember. But I wanted my virginity in tact.

I talked to some of my girl friends about losing my virginity. It was becoming something I just wanted to move past. I had been a religious girl in high school, saving myself for Jesus, and what not. Not that if you’re doing so, it’s wrong. Whatever floats your motherfucking boat. It’s your body. Fuck whoever you want, if you want. But premarital sex was taboo, where I learned about it from. You only want to have sex with your spouse, because sex is something God blessed between a husband and a wife. I was told that if you had sex with someone other than your husband, it meant that you were creating soul ties with another, and it would tear you apart. Also, I was told it hurt a lot. Didn’t make it sound very appealing to be honest. So, I had been flat-out scared to lose it. It wasn’t that I didn’t have offers, just the idea of being naked with someone freaked me the fuck out.

So I decided, well fuck it. Let’s get it over with. And I did. It wasn’t a horrible experience, at least not like some of the nightmares I’ve heard. I lost it in a fancy hotel room. I can’t even be certain I had an orgasm at that point. I don’t think I could tell, so I’m assuming not. It wasn’t bad, but I was more disappointed that I didn’t feel anything different. I got done, and I was like, really? This is what everyone was worried about? I didn’t feel in love, nor was I attached. I expected it to be a little more exciting. This is what they call “becoming a woman?” Very anti-climactic, if I do say so myself.