Unlike most of the other stories on this site, mine is of guilt, regret, and disappointment. In order to understand the emotions I felt(and feel) in their true intensity, it will require some searching into the past, so if you wish to hear my story and perhaps learn something from my experience, please try to be patient, if not, scroll on to the next story that some -old boy with a “9 inch dick” made up.
Well, here it goes…
The events that initiated my teenage life and sex drive began almosts ago, on my first day of school, when I fell in love for the first time. Now, you’re probably thinking “Love? A high schooler? Haha, yeah right!”, but for that age I was very mature. Physically, I was a giantess and had just stumbled apon my latent sex appeal and beauty. I ‘7”, 120 lbs, and not to be provacative, but just to show my degree of physical maturity, I was a 34c. I met a boy, a man, that day working at the mall and between us, it was love at first sight. I never actually talked to him, but he was in my thoughts and heart since the moment our eyes met. Oddly enough, as I confronted my friends about this and described him, they knew exactly who he was. His name was Toby (name changed), he , and he attended youth group with them. So, I’m sure you can guess where I was that next Wednesday night. Yep, of course, youth group. For months I attended church, even though I was a confirmed buddhist, and while I was too shy to ever talk to him, we flirted like mad. Now, Toby was absolute perfection…gorgeous, highly intelligent, virtuous, and oooooohhhhhh, was he charming! I suppose that’s why he never really talked to me, he knew how old I was and that it would be wrong. But I knew he liked me…he talked about me to his friends, who informed me of his feelings. Things continued like that until finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt used, like he only liked me for what I looked like. I wrote this long, vicious e-mail to him about how much he hurt me, and how I needed him, but he left me hanging, etc, etc. Weeks went by and I didn’t go to youth group and one day, out of the blue, he imed me. He apologized for what he did and wanted to be my friend. So we talked everyday until he moved, and even then he e-mailed me. He always seemed very concerned about my encounters with boys and insisted that I stay away from anything too sexual. Summer went by, and guys were all over me, but I felt like Toby was the only man I could ever love. Next school year started and a freshman, Stephen, asked me out…he was cute and sweet, so I took him up on the offer. Turns out, he was in love with me; he’d been watching me for weeks like I had Toby. But for me things were different, I wanted to be loved, but I wasn’t ready to love back. What I felt for Toby was too divine, too intense for words to even touch apon. And for me that was incredible, because I have an emotional and mental condition that makes it extremely hard for me to form attachments to people. It’s hard to describe, but it’s close to being sociopathic…I’m not crazy, it’s just I can’t always see people as people instead of objects, so I have difficulty forming relationships that aren’t sexual in nature. But anyway, that’s how it was with Stephen…we’ve been together for almost a year, and while he loves me and thinks I love him, it’s just because I’m a good actress. Through school I only heard from Toby occasionally and in a some sort of sick, deperate, subconsious way, my desire for the kind of love I felt for him and from him manifested itself into sexual urges and aggressiveness. I guess when I was fooling around, I could disconnect my sexual self from my emotional self so that I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of not being able to love or the guilt of pretending I did.
So this, my friends, is what led up to my first sexual experience. Last night, while fooling around on my basement floor with Stephen, it just sort of happened. I pulled his pants off, put a condom on his penis, and put him inside me. There was no pain and in one thrust, he was inside me. I guess at heart, I still wanted it to be special…I wanted the romance, the champagne, the candlelight. But it wasn’t. It was just him and me fucking, not making love, on my basement floor with all our clothes on while the Daily Show aired on Comedy Central. No fireworks. No explosions. Nothing like TV. I didn’t really feel anything and before I knew it, he pulled out and moaned animalisticly as he shot into the condom. I felt like a machine, cold, inhuman, devoid of emotion.
An hour later, I found myself under his massive body again, as I had coaxed him into giving it another try. It’s weird, I didn’t enjoy it, but it was intoxicating, almost like a drug. I figured, “Hey, why stop now? I’m nothing but a whore now anyway”. I found myself gazing up to the ceiling and the walls, pretending I was somewhere else in someone else’s arms as he moaned and pumped violently. I felt dirty, like I’d been stripped of that innocence I once radiated. I used to be daddy’s little girl, the beauty queen, the valedictorian, but now I was just a slut, being fucked on the cold, hard floor.
Afterwords, he held me in his arms, kissing me all over, telling me he loved me more than I’d ever know. I tried not to look at him, pulling away from his kisses and burrying my face in his herculean chest. I felt like yelling, “Shut up, shut up, shut up! You don’t know what love is until you’ve felt what’s been eating away inside me for almost s! What you feel is in your pants, not your heart and not your soul, so don’t you even presume to use that word and disgrace it like that when you could never understand what love really is!”.
I woke up this morning, after a haunted sleep, and got online to hear that little, prozac-happy voice greeting me with the line, “You’ve got mail!”. I checked my mail and sure enough, Toby had written me. He spoke of how he loved his new girlfriend, of how talented and special he thought I was, and then, out of the blue, of how virginity is a sacred thing and it should be cherished until the time was right to give it to your soulmate.
I cried.
It was all real at that moment…I was suddenly living my life and my mistakes, not just watching, devoid of emotion, as though it was a movie. What could I ever offer Toby, or even myself, now?
Pain weighs heavily on my heart…a pain for who I was, what I’ve lost, and what I can never, ever get back. Please, don’t make the mistakes I did! Know in your heart, your soul, with all your being, that you are in love and that you are ready to give yourself away to your soulmate.
::carnalangel::
“i think about you all the time, but i don’t need the same…if it’s lonely where you are then come back down, and i won’t tell them your name”
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my basement…last night
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