It was a
Wednesday, hump day; I remember that was why I agreed to do it. It was sweet
and sweaty. He was gentle and asked if I was okay. I remember moaning softly
and looking at his face hovering above me. He didn’t look pleased, so I asked
him to stop. He pulled himself out of me very slowly, making sure not to hurt me. I asked him what was bothering him; apparently nothing was except my lack
of noise. That silly man thought he wasn’t pleasuring me; rest assured I let
him know that he was doing everything perfectly with a kiss on his neck
followed by a quick bite. He gasped and pushed himself against me, making him
go deep within me. This time I did not care about noise control; I moaned and
groaned loudly, checking his face every now and again to make sure he was
enjoying himself as well. He was a muscular, but not too muscular, 20 year old
man. I was a small, petite woman, finally giving it away to a man who knew what
he was doing. The thing was, this wasn’t sex, this was love making.
That was the first time I had felt
any real connection with another person. I wouldn’t say I wasn’t loved as a
child, but I wouldn’t say I was my parents first priority, either, which is why
I now have a hard time connecting with people. So, for me, this first real
connection sent me into a spiraling whirl wind of confusion, addiction,
longing, needing, and desperation. I needed to be with someone, anyone, it didn’t
matter who I was desperate, like that again. I was addicted to the feelings I
received from him, yet at the same time the feelings confused me. Were these
emotions always felt this way? Could I possibly feel them again without being with
a man? Would a woman give me better pleasure than a man?
I was
only 17 when I lost my virginity. I was a crazed, sex driven teenager that
needed answers, but I had to wait. I was due to graduate in a matter of two
weeks and turn 18 three weeks after graduation.
***
“Five weeks,
Mar. I can do this. Just have to keep my head on straight for five weeks and
then I’m out of here.” I told myself Thursday morning before school.
Thursday night came around. I lay in bed
remembering the night before. I want so badly to feel my lover, Jack, again. I
know, though, that he will not climb through my bedroom window tonight; tonight
he is sitting at a cash register in the gas station on the other side of town.
I try to fall asleep, but only toss and turn for hours. My urge to have sex grew
stronger and stronger by the second. I want it, now. I couldn’t take it
anymore. I got up out of bed and put my pants back on. Quietly, I sneak over to
my parent’s room. I hear my father snoring and I know this will not be an easy
task, but I know that I must do this. I get on my hands and knees and crawl
across the floor, stopping every time my father’s snoring ceases. Finally, I
make it to the bed and reach under it. I swing my hand around until I feel the
plastic. Relief rushes over me as I think, they
haven’t moved the box. Soundlessly, I slide the small, plastic tote out
from under the bed and into the hallway. I stand back up, box in hand, and
creep back to my room. I flick the lamp on by the bed. I pop the top off the
box and there they are. Some have measured ridges, others with random bumps and
dots. I can feel my urge getting more intense as I stare into the box. I choose
a thick, ridged, blue, vibrating dildo from the box. I know my parents have
used them, but not recently. To be on the safe side, I slink to the bathroom
with it in my hand and wash it. I arrive back at my room and look at the box, what to do with you in the mean time? I decide to put it in the closet towards the
back until I can put it back under the bed tomorrow. I toss the dildo onto my
bed and take off my pants. I start to get back into bed when I realize I should
probably remove my underwear as well. I slip them off and get in bed. I lay
there. I’m nervous. My urges have changed; no longer am I starved for an
orgasm, but now worried and scared. Should I really do this? Of course I
should is how one side of me is feeling, the other side screaming no. Fuck this, my dysfunction is getting the
better of me, and fuck me, too!
No
longer caring about being careful, I shove it in me. I let out a small moan as
each ridge pushes and massages inside of me. I contemplate turning the
vibrating part on, wondering if it will be too loud. After ten minutes of
thrusting it in and out I decide to turn it on. Oh my god! Vibration brings on a whole new feeling! I am getting
answers to questions and quickly reaching climax. I can’t stop now, my legs
jerk and my pelvis thrusts upward, as if to throw the dildo out of me. I reach
for it, but I am too late. I spasm and moan; being mindful of the quiet house.
Finally, I turn off the vibrator. This
orgasm was different, but in a good way. I think to myself. I take it out
and put it in a sock in my underwear drawer. I decide to keep it for next time.
No one will notice.
