I do explicitly state that both people are 18 before any actual sex acts.
Hello. My name is Timothy. I am a sexual addict. I am engaging in my fourth step in recovery: A searching and fearless moral inventory of myself.
It makes the most sense to proceed chronologically with my first experiences in “love” and “sex.” Unfortunately neither one is an exciting experience. In fact I have never told the story of my first sexual experience. I usually skip to my second one and tell people that was my first. It makes for a better story. But this is recovery. And this is where it really all began.
I have never been popular. I have never been much of anything. I only had one friend growing up. And he wasn’t in my grade in school. One of those “weekend” friends. The other kids just ignored me. Home was no different. Both parents worked and my older siblings always left me behind. I learned early on to be constantly self-sufficient.
When I was in my late teens, I attempted suicide. I spent the next few months in a hospital for teens. The place was a nice cluster of troubled kids that made a bad mistake or two. Only two people I met there actually needed deep mental therapy sessions.
However, it was there something happened that had never happened to me before. A girl actually spoke to me. Kara. She wanted to know me. Everything about her was mired in sadness. Even her eyes looked like they were always on the verge of tears. Before then, I always fantasized about tall, large breasted blondes in the Hollywood image we are supposed to love. This girl looked nothing like them. She was short, black hair, small breasts, beautiful black eyes, her arms covered in scars… and she was ultimately perfect.
After I left the hospital I tried to contact Kara. She blew me off. She had her own life to live. I never felt a strong connection to anyone before. The hurt ran deeper than anything I ever felt. If I can say that I ever felt a true feeling of love for anyone in this world, it would have been always her.
For the next few years I had to stay in a group therapy for teens. I found it absurd that the females were usually very emotionally fragile while the males were abusive jerks. Kind of like mixing the wolves with the sheep and letting them figure it out for lengthy sessions.
When I got my license, I became the chauffeur of the gang outside of group. I suddenly became very popular. When they wanted to hook up with one of the others, I usually drove them back and forth and to the movies. They never attempted to set me up with a girl. I was open with the other members about my feelings of love for the girl that I barely knew. I guess they respected that misguided youthful emotion.
Then one day, there was a girl from the group with a different plan. A half Hispanic-half black girl, Mari, asked me to help her find some stuff for moving out. She was 18, as I was, but she was already looking to move in with one of her boyfriends. She wasn’t happy unless she had two or three guys ready to hump her.
When I got to her house she brought me up to her bedroom. She had a lot of boxes on the floor, half packed with her stuff. She was wearing a loose tank top that showed off a lot of cleavage. She might have been a lot sexier, but she already had a child 3 years previously and didn’t quite bounce back all the way. Her tits were a little stretch-marked and sat low. Her ass was also wide and flat. But she liked to screw a lot so there was never a shortage of guys in her erotic life.
I asked her what she needed my help doing in her room today.
She said to just sit on the bed for now. She still had some things to sort out. I lay down and stared at the ceiling. I was getting bored of everyone from group using me for free rides. I never asked for anything in return and that’s exactly what I got. Nothing. I liked having “friends” in my life, but I was starting to question the motives and values of the friends I was making. I thought about Kara again. I loved her eyes more than anything. They are still burned into my naked memory.
“Damn. Look at that dick move.” Mari’s words interrupted my absent thoughts.
I didn’t need to look down to know I had an erection, but I did it anyway. I tried to look as apologetic as possible. “I’m sorry, I meant to…”
“Shut up. I think that virgin dick wants to say hello.” I propped myself up on my elbows as she sat down next to me on the bed. Her hand went right to the tent in my pants and she rubbed my hard-on through my jeans. “Oooh. I like what I see here.” She was definitely hitting my erogenous zones.
My thoughts of Kara vanished. The only thoughts in my mind were “Holy shit! I’m finally going to have sex.” Ideally, I wanted Kara to just show up one day and I would lose my virginity in an act of pure love. But at this point I was willing to take what I could get. I didn’t want to die a virgin and felt that any notch on my bedpost was better than nothing. I honestly felt like I wound end up living my life without sex.
Mari leaned in closer. I thought she was going to kiss me but she stopped short. “Feel my tits.” I reached out my right hand and grabbed her left tit. “Oh god yes! Oh, fuck, I love your hands.” Her acting was so awful I almost started laughing. However, I had a tit in my hand, and that was more important at the moment. I finally got a boob.
I slid my hand over the tank top and felt her bare skin at the top of her breast. I slid my hand down past the bra and let my fingertips touch her nipple. I gave her a few light pinches and rolled it around. I could feel the nipple get harder the more I played with it. I ran my index finger around the bumps on her areola and I could see her shudder silently
Meanwhile, she had unzipped my fly and pulled my dick through both the peeholes in my underwear and my jeans. She was smiling at my dick and talking to it as she casually tugged it every few seconds. I am a leaker and it didn’t take long for the precum to get my dick wet.
I pulled the strap of her tank top down and exposed her bra-covered breast. I shoved my hand back inside her bra and pulled the breast completely out of the cup. I finally got to see a real boob close up. Her nipple was dark brown and her skin had stretch marks at the top. The nipple was a little low and almond shaped.
“Damn. I want to fuck you, but I’m on my period.” At first I thought this was all some mean joke. Once again I was about to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. “How about I just suck your dick?” It sounded like a reasonable offer. I never even kissed a girl. Maybe it was too overzealous to skip right to sex, but a blowjob was definitely a noble pursuit.
“Umm, sure.” I was always so good with words, I should have won an award.
Mari bent forward and opened her mouth. She was about to put my raging cock inside of her face when she pulled back again. “You know what? Fuck it. I’m horny as shit.”
She got up from the bed, unbuttoned her shorts, pulled them down and kicked them off. She carefully opened her panties and peeled them slowly down. She had a full black bush that about 3 inches in height. I could see the blood covered pad lined in her panties as she pulled them down all the way.
The next thing to hit me was a sudden odor. I’ve heard tales of what vaginas smell like and this was nothing like those. From two feet away I felt like I was smelling a cross between burnt rubber, and an unwashed armpit mixed with wet dog. It was actually quite sickening.
She moved on top of me and my dick slid right in. She knew exactly how to insert on the move. She rode her hips back and forth a few times. In my head I was thinking, “This is it. You’re finally having sex. This is what it’s all about.” But I wasn’t excited. My mind was drifting. My brain didn’t want to be passionate or even exist in the moment.
“Oh my God, look. You popped my cherry too. Look at the blood.” She was half-laughing and half-smiling at me. I looked down and saw that I had her period blood on my shaft and some of it was on my jeans, which I was still poking through.
Her left breast was flopping back and forth outside of her shirt. I grabbed it again. I was losing interest. Her smell was getting more potent. She was heavy on top of me. My dick was covered in blood. Most importantly, I didn’t love this girl. I could feel that I was losing my erection. This wasn’t going to end well if I suddenly lost my hard-on. I did the only thing I felt was right.
I faked my orgasm.
She hopped off of me and I felt relieved. “You’re no longer a virgin, my man. Oooh. I need to smoke you were so good.” She got up still pantless with one boob hanging out and lit a smoke from her dresser. She offered me a puff, but I don’t smoke. While she smoked her cigarette, I was staring at her thighs. I could see a splotch of blood smeared across her inner thighs. The whole sight just turned me off.
We said our goodbyes and I got in my car to head home. I drove two blocks away and then pulled behind a local store. I spent the next 15 minutes crying my eyes out. I hadn’t cried so hard in years.
I didn’t know what I was. I knew I wasn’t gay because I wasn’t attracted to men. But I never wanted to have sex with a girl ever again.