Several weeks ago I sent out a plea for cute dog photos to cheer me up, and also suggestions for topics you’d like to see me write about.
You responded with pictures and video of some of the most adorable floppy-eared canines ever…and your dirty minds.
So it looks like today’s topic is…
Gina of Endearingly Wacko wrote, “I always think you can’t go wrong with something sex-themed. Like, ‘How did you find out about sex?’. It seems like everyone has a funny story to tell. Sex is endlessly fascinating. Seriously, write something sex-themed (and it doesn’t even have to be something embarrassing about yourself) and you can’t go wrong.”
Can’t go wrong, eh? WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT.
Sorry, I have a habit of interpreting anything as a challenge.
Anyway, unlike most people I know, the story of how I found out about sex is pretty boring. I didn’t walk in on anyone mid-hump; I didn’t see any suggestive graffiti to naively ask an adult about. I was just flat-out told how things worked one day and was like, “Okay, cool.”
So instead I’m just going to launch right into the story of the first time I actually tried it out for myself, because that’s much more interesting (to me, at least) and takes more than one sentence to explain.
Now, I knew early on that I was not going to be one of those people I’d heard about who waited until marriage to invite a penis to hang out in Vajaytown. While I could totally understand why someone might find that special or important, I just knew it wasn’t for me.
Because Vajaytown was the second-happiest place on Earth, after Disneyland, and I was getting really fucking tired of exploring it alone.
I had discovered the joy of playing with my own nether regions at a young age. I was a sweet little girl…with the masturbation habits of a stereotypical teenage boy. I wasn’t shy about it, either, until my blushing mother took me aside and politely informed me that there were some things one just didn’t do in front of company.
I spent a lot of quality time in my room after that.
By the time I reached my early teens, my hands were threatening to secede from the union and my raging hormones were convinced I was a female ferret in heat: if I didn’t have sex soon, I would literally die.
There was just one problem: teenage boys.
If cheesy teen movies have taught us anything, it’s that every male member of the student body (pun wholly intended) dreams solely of popping a girl’s cherry so he can brag about it to his friends. Being somewhat sheltered within the estrogen-laced prison walls of my all-girls’ school, I had no way of gauging the truth of that generalization in the wild, but I wasn’t taking any chances. My virginity was not a trophy. I was hell-bent on getting rid of it, but I had no intention of being some sort of conquest.
So I needed to come up with a plan. A way to publicly de-V myself, without an actual D taking credit for it.
I needed to execute a V card trick.
When all was said and done, it was almost stupidly easy.
I needed two patsies for my plan to work. For these all-important roles I had chosen my best friend Katie, and The Cowboy.
The Cowboy was another friend’s extremely attractive cousin from Montana with whom I had indulged in copious amounts of making out the previous summer by a lake. Naturally, I had told all to Katie.
When it turned out that The Cowboy would be making a repeat visit, I eagerly informed Katie of my good luck. As I dreamily recalled what a good kisser he had been, I casually added that I hoped we might be able to take things further, if you know what I mean, and Katie, wide-eyed, giggled conspiratorially.
The vacation at the lake came and went. I did not, in fact, get down and dirty with The Cowboy…but Katie didn’t know that.
Upon my return to the city, I was immediately dragged out of the house for interrogation. We went for a walk around the neighborhood, and Katie grilled me for details.
“Well, he’s still super hot, and still a super good kisser, and…” I trailed off meaningfully. I didn’t even need to speak the lie. I just blushed and smiled.
“OH MY GOD, NUTTY, DID YOU-”
“Shhhhhhhhh! Do you want the whole neighborhood to hear?” I interrupted, laughing gleefully.
“Sorry! But oh my god, AAAAAAAAH! I can’t believe it!” And we giggled together like morons.
Then I put on my serious face. “You won’t tell anyone though, right?”
“Oh my god, of course not,” she assured me. “It’s our little secret.”
By the next week, of course, Katie had told everyone. Just like I was counting on her to do.
Continued in Part II.