Well, I was what you might call a late developer. Although
I had been aware of myself sexually since about 12 or 13,
I had always been extremely shy with girls. My first kiss
was only, and I actually managed to go through college
without getting laid once! Not that I was bad-looking
(although I was definitely not your athletic type), I just
couldn’t find my way around women.
By the time I 1, I was therefore extremely frustrated,
not to mention desperate for a fuck. But still, whenever
I had a chance my shyness would get the upper hand.
The weekend it finally happened, I had had a particularly
galling experience. The previous night I had driven
this friend back to her place. She was the ex of one of
my housemates, and was currently free. She was also quite
cute, with close-cropped hair and green eyes, and I really
had an interest in getting inside her pants. As it had
turned out though, I had ended up staying up to 3am at her
place, just the two of us, talking mostly about her family
problems. And nothing had happened! I hadn’t made a move,
neither had she, and I had left feeling disgusted at myself.
The next day, then, I wasn’t in a particularly good mood
when my new neighbor invited a flatmate and me round to
her place for a chat. She was almost 28, not particularly
attractive, and a bit of a freak. It didn’t even cross my
mind to be interested in her. After a while my friend left,
and there I was, making smalltalk with this nondescript girl
while silently nursing the previous night’s hurts. I was
caught off-guard, then, when at some point she started to
mellow and to say things about how happy she was to have
“such cute neighbors”. What happened next is no longer
clear in my mind: I remember thinking something like “oh
what the fuck, I’ll get laid this weekend even if it’s with
her”. She must have noticed something funny on my face,
and started going on about how she “knew I was after
something all along”. Well, fine with me. Next thing I
know we’d taken our shirts and her bra off, and she
was straddling me on a couch. Even as I kissed her and
fondled her tits though, I could feel something was wrong.
My whole body started shivering and jerking uncontrollably,
in pure psychosomatic fear. I passed it off as cold (it was
freezing in her room), but in any case our mood had
vanished and we decided not to pursue it further. I
returned home half dejected (my own body had betrayed me!)
and half delighted with the near-success.
The next day though, I was determined to take no chances.
She came over for something, we chatted for a
little while in the living room, and soon started
kissing and making out on the sofa. The shivering came back,
a little, but I just shrugged it off and pressed on. The
sofa was uncomfortable, though, so I suggested we should
go to my room. Things then picked up speed naturally, or at
least I tried to act that way. She looked uneasy, but I
gently pressed her to strip, and then made her slip a
condom on me (something she didn’t seem used to doing).
In hindsight, the act itself was pretty clumsy. We
started off in a missionary-type position, and though
it did feel nice and I eventually came, there was something
listless about the whole thing. I know that I was totally
self-absorbed in my experience, and in no mood for
considering whether she was enjoying it herself or not.
I don’t think she ever came. After I had finished we lay
together for a while, whispering things about how we would
now get to know each other better and so on. point
she smiled and asked what I would think if she “put her head
between my legs”. Although I really wouldn’t have minded, all
I managed to say, stupidly, was “it’s an idea…”. I must
have looked uncomfortable, for she never did. After a while
though, I stirred myself back to action, turned her around
and went for a round doggie style. This felt much
better, and I came with relish even as my cheap bed was
threatening to give. At this point I was satisfied, but
after exchanging a few more kisses she decided she had to
go, dressed hurriedly, and left looking troubled. I just
lay back, relaxed, smiled and thought to myself -well,
at last!
As it turned out, that was our only time together. I soon
came to realise that she was, to put it mildly, a rather
unbalanced person (and I mean medically speaking).
Although we remained on friendly neighborly terms for a
while, I grew more and more exasperated with her, and
finally couldn’t stand the sight of her. To this day I
have not told my then flatmates about what happened- I
can imagine they would never believe it!
Still, the experience did give me some of the
self-confidence I needed, and made things much easier
with the women I’ve had since.
So, for all who have endured this tale so far: if there
is a moral here, I’m not sure what it is. Of course, I
still sometimes wish things had turned out otherwise, say,
that I had fucked my gorgeous teacher/classmate/sister’s
friend as in so many of the stories here.
In the long run, though, it hasn’t mattered. I live
with a steady girlfriend now, and we enjoy a satisfying,
free-minded sex life together. Oh, and I don’t shiver
anymore of course!
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