Sloppy Firsts

The first and only guy I ever blew is in the next room right now. He's one of my brother's friends. It all happened the first of only two times I've ever been high. When my brother fell asleep he came in to my room. i was into him for awhile but never said anything because he was my little brothers friend. I was 16 he was 15. It was my first anything really. The only time I'd even been kissed before was when I was thirteen. And in three seconds that guy managed to inject a mouth full of spit as I was trying my hardest not to laugh at the clinking of teeth. Kissing my second first was no better. Completely opened mouth, forcing his tongue into my mouth, the taste of smoke in his throat. I almost gagged at the taste of it. Slobbering pathetic gropings. but what did I know. I remember that night clearly. The way he told me how he like it. The way his whole body clenched when he was done The way he tasted in my mouth. And the way I swallowed on instinct. I remember the morning too. The way he said he didn't remember. The way I so easily overlooked it. The way after the initial sting of rejection I didn't care so much. The way I kept it to myself for a year. The way I still liked him. How easy it was to carry on like nothing had happened. When in fact it was a moment I will always remember.

All my firsts have been unsatisfactory. My first kiss, my first blow job, my first sex. All of them one time things. All of them things I have never done since.

The night I lost my virginity was a one night stand. A friend of a friend I had only ever talked to on MSN messenger. After I made it clear I wasn't looking for a boyfriend out of the deal it was smooth sailing. Pick me up, take me to a private place outside, lift up my skirt, go to town, drive me home. No kiss. No foreplay. It wasn't that bad but I would have probably been more satisfied with a night spent in my room alone with my thoughts. At least then I would have had an orgasm. He drove me home in complete silence and the most vivid memory he left me with was the way my thighs hurt because the grass had clung to the wetness there and rubbed when I walked.

It's been three and a half years since that night and it was the last time I've had sex. I might as well just call myself a nun and be done with it. I swear to fuck i must have 'One Time Use Only' stamped on my forehead.

I've lived a life of sloppy firsts. All I can do know is hope for better seconds.