Where it happened: motel--prom night
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 10
Category: Straight
My high school had a social service requirement for graduating seniors. I signed up to conduct math workshop after school. I thought then and I think now that mandatory charity is a contradiction but I am no political activist so I submitted quietly. Taking time away from diligent students to push through those who can’t be bothered to study is wrong.
There was no reason Brenda couldn’t do business math. It was the same pabulum we had all through elementary school. As long as Brenda stayed in tutoring, she would pass business math no matter how poorly she did. As long as I tutored, I would graduate.
Brenda started asking me out. I was shut out of the social scene as I was still on a bicycle my senior year. I had no particular interest in Brenda but a girl is a girl, and Brenda did have a car. Besides my parents were continually urging me to start dating. I really think their fear was that I was homosexual (though they denied it whenever I confronted them.) Brenda tried to do things to please me but she was a work-study student alternating weeks at a car dealership and I was on my way to Purdue engineering school. Bowling and drag strip races weren’t my thing and science fairs and math gym weren’t hers.
We soon found a mutual interest. My night was Wednesdays. Brenda was booked up solid every weekend. I was no way in love with her but our bodies got along just fine. I was approaching graduation and about to go to a mostly male school. I knew what my prospects were.
Brenda was offering to go all the way with me. I felt that a couple should at least be going steady before doing that. As far as going steady went, I didn’t want to commit to more than one night a week because of my studies. The real reason was that if Brenda was dating other boys, my romantic obligations to her would be minimized. My conscience was looking for the first opportunity to call me a cad. After all, there was no escape from the fact I was using her.
When senior prom time rolled around, I invited two girls and got flamed. I always was left with my pride in the gutter when I asked for dates. Brenda was the first girl to go out with me. I wanted to go to the prom. Brenda had a car. Perhaps a night at the prom might morally justify intercourse. I took Brenda to the prom.
I thought a motel would be nice for me and show a little respect for Brenda–though her respect for herself was not much in evidence. I stocked it with cheese cake, pastries, strawberries, chocolate chip cookies, and creme soda. We shuffled a lap or two around the dance floor and left. Our first argument was over beer. I could have bought some but Brenda was under 18 and I wasn’t providing liquor to a minor. Our next argument was over marijuana. I flushed it all down the toilet. When I produced condoms, we argued over that. (I knew she already had more partners than I would have in a lifetime.) I made up a story about promising my pop to use a condom which was the most tactful thing I could invent. We argued about keeping promises. I asked her if she wanted to just go home or return to the prom. She asked me if I was man enough to fuck her. In the end, she let me use condoms.
I won’t give you baloney about doing it six times in first hour or about any exotic positions. Brenda was about inspired with sex as she was with her school work. She was not interested in sex play. I did get grudging permission to have a close look between her legs. Twice that night, missionary position and then I woke up to the sound of the TV. Missionary position again at dawn. We’re talking about a virgin seeking beginner’s potpourri here, not a jaded rake’s perversions. She refused even a co-ed shower.
I was a retard but the picture was getting clear enough even for me to read. Brenda started entreating me to go steady. I was off to Baltimore for a summer job and I was staying at an aunt’s and not renting an apartment. Was she going to stay home and not go on dates? Supposedly Brenda was coming to Baltimore and getting a job so she could be with me and then she was coming to West Lafayette and getting a job and going to Purdue part time. Brenda was a junior and without a HS diploma she could not get a job good enough to support herself and I sure couldn’t do so. Besides plans for Purdue were pie in the sky–she was no student. I didn’t want to go out with her anymore. Brenda had a major tantrum and flatly refused to continue the tutoring to punish me and got kicked out of the co-op program. My brain said I had treated her decently but my heart said I was a cad.
A public health nurse came to see me two weeks into the summer at Baltimore and I had to give a blood sample. I tested negative but the damage was done. My aunt came close to tossing me out of her house. My parents harangued me over the phone.
My night with Brenda was worthwhile. I satisfied my curiosity. I enjoyed myself. I took a risk. I took some consequences. The condoms limited the damage. My parents demanded an explanation. I had to organize my thoughts to prepare. My parents shared some blame with me. Our mutual respect is increased. The balance sheet shows a net gain. I have no regrets.
I am into my master’s at Purdue. I am in my third romance–all were with someone special. (I had badly underestimated my romantic prospects. I’m no Casanova but how many girls does a guy need, anyway?)
Having your first time with your “one and only” is nice I suppose. Neither my sweetheart nor I regret our previous lovers. It’s nicer remembering what ordinary is and enjoying indescribable.
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