| What's That? |
| Saturday, 21 June 2008 | |||||||
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I was sixteen when a boy first kissed me. He loved me very much. I know that for a fact. But ask me? I did not love him as spelled as ‘L-O-V-E’. I liked him as a younger brother because he was a few months younger than I; and I had known him since I was eight years old. I also ‘liked’ him as a friend … well, maybe, a little more than just a mere ‘friend’. My sister and I used to hang out in his home once in a while. And when we got older, he and I started meeting up alone without chaperons and friends. His father was divorced and living in with a woman whom he had three children with. They all lived in a big condominium unit. His father did not like to get married anymore after divorcing my friend’s mother. For him, he did not want to repeat the same ordeal he went through with my friend’s mother. My sister’s boss and my friend’s father were buddies. It was a small world. Whenever I went to my friend’s home, I was very welcomed and whenever I visited my sister at her office, her boss greeted me as if I was his daughter.
One day when I went to his room, he suggested that we watch porn movies, which he had collected secretly. I was also eager to watch porn. The first time I had ever watched porn was when I was with my two sisters who were with their respective boyfriends at their buddy’s house at age twelve. My sisters were five and three years older than me. At that time, the stories in those movies did not interest me, but instead I was constantly asking, “What’s that?” pointing at the screen. Everybody was laughing, but no one replied. I am the type of person who would never stop asking until I have gotten the answer. And so, I went to the screen and pointed at the thing I was asking about, tapping on the screen. Oh, everybody laughed even harder. And later on, I got to understand what it was since I had been already taught in school about the birds and the beasts and what they do and what comes out of it. Yes, we had sex education in school at Grade Three and every year after that.
Well, anyway, as I was saying, I was sixteen when my friend, Junior suggested that we watch porn in his bedroom. So, remembering the porn I used to watch with my sisters at their boyfriend’s friend’s house, I already knew what it was about. We watched the people closely, pointed at the body parts and we studied how they did it and how they enjoyed sex. Junior asked me if I was ‘cool’ to do it. I said, “Yes.” He had never done it before either. We kissed. I remembered his kiss very well. It was crappy. All those drooling saliva soaked the entirety of the area around my outer mouth including my chin and my cheeks. His tongue kept on going around the insides of my mouth in thin air! It was not even touching my tongue. I did not even know what it was doing in my mouth! It danced inside my mouth as if transforming the empty air space in my mouth - his dance ‘air’ floor. Oh, he was a very good dancer and I was, too. We used to dance in disco houses a lot. Whenever we were at the dance floor, everybody would just sit down or stand just outside the dance floor and watch us dance. Well, today, I can say that his kiss was one of the worse kisses I had ever had.
Though his tongue was not good when it came to kissing lips to lips and French kisses, he was good in licking my pussy. He did it so good that I would go so wet. We were playing, “Follow-the-Leader”, following the porn on DVD. When we saw the sixty-nine position, we followed it. I felt icky the very first time my lips and tongue touched his dick and balls. But my eagerness to explore the erotic wonders of what was waiting for me got me to just proceed and mimic whatever we saw on DVD. He was a terrible kisser, but a good pussy-licker. Oh, I remembered the very first time he entered his dick into my pussy. It stung real badly. My pussy got swollen for about three days before the inflammation started subsiding. He said the skin on his dick hurt, too. But in spite of the pain, we continued having sex even during those days when our genitals were painful. I stained his sheets that I had to wash it in his bathroom so as that no one would know what we did.
Actually, on that first time, he did not even enter his entire dick into my vagina when he felt that he was coming. He withdrew, jumped out of the bed, ran to the bathroom, turned on the shower real strong, removed his underwear and placed it on the floor where the water was landing. He kept on saying, “Ya-iiikss!” With only my shirt on, I followed him to the bathroom wondering why he jumped off me and ran to the bathroom. When I saw his underwear on the floor, shower water running over it, I reached out to pick it up asking him why he did that. But he pulled me, jumping and skipping up and down, to stop me from picking it up saying, “NO! That’s yuck-ee! It smells bad!” I just looked at him in amazement in the weird way. He did not stop skipping as he pulled me off the bathroom and brought me back to his room. As I recall this episode till this very day, it just makes me laugh at the thought that he felt icky about his own cum. What happened was that when he was about to cum, he ran to the bathroom, exploded into his underwear, and removed it. Not wanting me to see and smell his cum, he immediately washed his underwear. I could not forget how his face flushed all red in embarrassment especially, when I entered the bathroom and appeared behind him.
Well, as days passed, we got used to each other’s cum. We did not use condom. He exploded inside me and his cum would flow out to my underwear. Thus, I always put a sanitary pad onto my underwear after each sex. He wanted to marry me and wanted us to go to college together, but my parents said that we were too young to decide on marriage. His father was okay with it. We split up and one day we saw each other at a fine dining restaurant. He was with his wife and two children and I was with my two sons. He did not go to my wedding and I was not invited to his wedding. That moment when I saw him again after about two decades made me reminisce of the good times we had together. He looked like a different person when we met again yet somehow, I could say that he was still the same ole Junior whom I grew up together with, whom I passed through puberty with, and whom I experimented my very first sex experiences with. I still thought that I did not love him back then, but I really did like him as a partner.
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