Where it happened: MAKE-OUT CENTRAL
Langauge: English
Sex: Female
Rating: 9
Category: Straight
It was the summer before my 9th grade when a family from California moved into my neighborhood. The boy was named Dennis and was so knock-down cute that I could have died. I wouldn’t have a chance with him since he was going to be a senior but he had a sister named Karen who was going to be in my grade. I made best friends with her and made a point of playing up to him when I was at their house. Finally he asked me out but my parents didn’t let me date yet. The way we got around it is Karen suggested that we let on I was palseys with her and her brother would do the driving because he was a nice brother. What actually happened is that she and her brother had a deal that he would double date with her and she would fix him up. They had been going all the way with each other but decided they better stop because it was incest. So anyhow little old me comes waltzing into this situation without a clue in the world thinking I was so clever at manipulating people. As far as my parents were concerned, I was going with my girl friend and her generous big brother was driving us around.
On the very first date we went out to make-out central and Karen got right down to business in the back seat. She was an old pro in that department. If I wanted to stay in the picture I knew what I had to do. It was the second date that blankets, Coke and Kleenex was provided. It was explained that you wouldn’t get pregnant if you douched with the Coke afterwards. I didn’t know how so I got a demonstration by Karen who lay down and screwed her boy friend right in front of her brother and me and then showed how to do the Coke.
When it came to my turn, I was so nervous with the other two watching me I just couldn’t do it. Finally Karen and her date held my legs while her brother Dennis wet his prick with saliva and jammed himself in. The pain was beyond words but I simply bit my lip. Dennis asked if I was a virgin but I wanted to be cool so I said I wasn’t. All he could say was damn she’s tight. I said that I hadn’t ever done it with someone so big before. Then the two boys held me in a squatting position and Karen shook up the Coke and jammed it in me. The fizzing Coke stung like hell and everybody made fun of me for being such a ninnie.
The pain didn’t happen when I got more at ease and was able to lubricate but the screwing never did a thing for me. It was what was expected if I was to gorge myself at Mr. Steak and Dairy Queen and be seen hanging around with Dennis. It was open wide, let the drilling happen, rinse now, and be glad there’s no pain. That’s why I called him Dennis the Dentist.
The Coke douche was so gross. No matter how well you wiped, the insides of your legs was always sticky from the sugar afterward. When they would have second helpings, the boys asked us to open our legs especially wide because they didn’t like the stickyness anymore than we did. We always parked in the last row at the drive-in movies so us girls could jump out and douche in the weeds behind the car. Once there were some boys back there drinking beer and I had to do the Coke thing while they watched. They couldn’t actually see anything because I had my skirt on and it was dark, but it was obvious what I was doing and they made comments about wishing they had a flash light that made it all the more embarassing. Looking back on it, doing it with another couple in the car is embarassing too.
FOR THOSE PEOPLE WHO WANT TO READ ONLY ABOUT THE FIRST TIME, THAT’S IT. YOU CAN GO ON TO THE NEXT STORY. I LIKE TO FIND OUT HOW PEOPLE ENDED UP SO IF YOUR LIKE ME, I WILL CONTINUE ON.
The worst thing about the Coke douches are that they didn’t work. I got pregnant. At first I didn’t know it because I thought my clothes being tight were the banana splits and malts but when I got morning sickness I knew. The year was 1966 and abortions weren’t legal but my father got me one anyway. It cost $1500 and when I got my driver’s licence 2 years later my father told me I could have gotten a car but the money went someplace else instead and he didn’t have to spell out exactly where that was either. A 1968 Fiat 500 cost $1465. As kind of a consolation prize, I was allowed to date but my curfew was 9:00 p.m. and I could have only one date a month and then that got extended to 2 a month.
In my senior year I hooked up with Wayne who was any other father’s dream boy friend. Wayne’s only problem was that he lived with his divorced mother in a trailer park. His mother was Japanese and his father met her in Japan when he was in the Army. Wayne and his mother had been on their own since he was 2 years old and was the perfect Japanese dutiful son.
Wayne always wore slacks with a crease and button-down shirts with a preppie tie. When kids began to grow their hair long, Wayne stayed with a military flat-top. I can list the times he dressed casual like the other kids. It was during a class car wash or working on the flower beds around the trailer or times like that. When Wayne came to dinner to my house, he always wore a jacket because of respect. That was in 1970 and the Viet Nam war was at it’s height. While other kids were disrespecting the American flag, Wayne always made a distinction between our country and some politicians in office because he never mentioned Nixon by name to my father. At our supper table, Wayne listened to my father rant and rave about the communist menace in Viet Nam and the traitors in this country and Wayne would politely state that the opposition to the war was widespread and that it seemed to him that that both sides of the argument were in the wrong. Wayne knew his history, too because he thought that the Viet Nam War was like interfering in Cuba and supporting Castro in the beginning, the McCarthy hearings, Prohibition, and the Spanish American War which all were wrong when you look back. Wayne soon shut up and simply listened. Sometimes my father would drag into an argument like when he asked Wayne whether he was going to enlist and defend his country in Viet Nam. Wayne stated he was going to college and join ROTC and my father called him a draft dodger and talked about his experience in the Korean War. Wayne mildly stated he was following an option that the American government had given him and it was never unpatriotic to do a program the government wanted you to do.
One night we went to a party and we smelled pot and so Wayne got us out of there before we were there a minute. We were driving away and we weren’t that far when we saw about 10 or15 cop cars going by the other way. The party got busted and everybody was arrested. The boys were given the choice between jail or signing-up for Nam and the girls had to pay a fine and some of them went to jail. At my house several days later, my father was on his rant and I told him that we showed up at that party and what happened. All he could go on about was that we were there even though we knew nothing about the pot. My father was just as stupid as Nixon on the business of drugs. Wayne saved his daughter and there was no appreciation of that. This was I could write some more but it is important that Wayne was a super guy and my father was a real asshole.
Wayne invited me to our senior prom and since I wanted to make a special night of it but I didn’t want to get pregnant again so I got some birth control pills. My mother found the pills snooping in my jewelry box and we had a big family war. My father was drunk and went over to Wayne’s trailer and told him he was never to have anything to do with me and called Wayne and his mother a whole bunch of rasist names. I wasn’t there but one of the things that really hurt Wayne was that after criticising Wayne for not enlisting right out of high school, my father accused him of joining ROTC so he could do another Pearl Harbor as an officer in the U.S. Navy. If Wayne was that set against America being in the War, the honest thing would be to fight on the side of his fellow yellow-bellyed, slant-eyed gooks. Wayne’s home had a lot of beautiful Japanese things in it and my father said it looked like a Jap whore house.
Wayne met me at school and his face was stoney. He explained that all dating situations had the possibility of leading to marriage for honorable people and Wayne would not impose the possibility of imposing my family on his family. Wayne’s mother had been hurt enough by words from Wayne’s father’s family and Wayne would not add to it. He told me some of the things my father had said and said my father was drunk. Wayne felt that my father had said enough sober that he had expressed his true feelings even though he was drunk. Wayne finished by asking me to call him Isoroku from now on and never call him Wayne again.
I was mad at my father. They say that people get angry and dogs get mad but I was mad and acted like a mad dog. I picked up a black PFC at a bar solely on the basis of having the blackest skin there is and went to his apartment. I took polaroid pictures into a mirror of me sucking his prick, of his prick going into my pussy and his come all over my pussy. I enlisted in the Air Force and left to report the day before my graduation and just before I left I put the pictures in the basement with my father’s secret stash of porno magazines. My father always went on and on about Communist immoral hippies but his magazines featured hippie girls doing lesbian things to each other or pictures of naked kids at Woodstock. That’s where I put those polaroids. I got a three line letter in basic training saying I wasn’t to set foot in town again.
All I accomplished was to screw myself. I had signed up for 6 years in order to get training in avionics repair. When my basic training ended I was called into the CO’s office. The CO had those pictures and told me I would never qualify for security clearance so I could forget about the training. I spent 6 years washing trucks and buses in Alaska and at the end my re-up was declined. I have to admit I was demoralized so I did some stupid things off-duty like get VD a couple of times so that didn’t help my record either. I was so angry, I have never returned home and I am still not on speaking terms with my family.
I am in therapy and it is time for me to admit I have behaved as badly as my father at certain important times in my life. I haven’t been home for 26 years and I have to take responsibility for my life begining at some point in this time. IF YOU READ THIS FAR, IT’S BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO.
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