Most of the time when I think of my first real sexual experience, I think about my first real boyfriend, and being 16 together.
That's not exactly accurate, however.
The reality is that my first sexual experience, beyond basically innocent kissing, occurred a year earlier the summer I was 15. I had a job (if you could call it that) at a coed overnight summer camp. I was a Counselor in Training. A C.I.T. There was a male counselor that was ancient by ordinary counselor standards, for he was 23. Most of the females at the camp found him interesting indeed, for he was good looking, funny, and was what everyone thought was an all around nice guy. He was dating another counselor, but paid far too much attention to me. People noticed and gossiped. His girlfriend noticed and was angry. I enjoyed his attention and the way he treated me like I wasn't just some dumb kid.
The details surrounding how we ended up in my bunk together in my empty cabin one night near the end of the summer are fuzzy (since this happened almost 20 years ago.). It must have been a transition weekend for there were no campers in the cabin. There was beer involved, but I wasn't drunk and neither was he.
After a whole bunch of kissing, he slid his hand down my shorts and fingered me. I didn't like it. It hurt. I remember wondering how to get him to stop it without seeming 'uncool.' So when he removed his hand from my shorts and put it on my head instead to push me down to his cock, I was at first relieved. The relief didn't last very long, however, since I'd never given a blow job before and had absolutely no idea how to go about it. I didn't really want to do that either, but my desire to not appear uncool overrode my common sense. Instead of stopping the situation, I let him pretty much choke me with it. He had his hand on the back of my head, pushing. I vividly recall that I had tears in my eyes from the gagging. I probably could have stopped him at any time. But I didn't. And he didn't warn me when he was about to cum, and did it in my mouth. Shortly thereafter, he snuck out of my cabin and back to his. And I crept to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
I'm never doing THAT again, I thought.
My first and second boyfriends weren't allowed to touch my head while I gave them head.
It's funny how things change.
What Is This?
An online diary including details about my former secret life as an escort, and current musings about what it's like to live inside my head.
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