As the relationship progressed in my sophomore year in high school, we would make out reclining on a couch (I refused to have anything to do with beds!). He attempted to pet me below the waist once, but I was pretty insistent that such activity be stopped. I completely lost my self-control and I asked her if I could fondle her breasts. She said I could, but I just could not bring my hands up to her breasts, so she grabbed them and placed them on her breasts for me. The ideas and sensations that went through my mind at this time were too elated to express, but I just could not believe that I was in the situation I was in.
She was only sixteen; I was seventeen. I became quite frustrated in
our lovemaking and went through a big "identity crisis." You see, I
held an erection throughout the petting stage, but when we were
ready to attempt intercourse, I found my penis to be in a condition
of rigidity similar to that of a damp washcloth.
At the time I was
rather inexperienced, this being my first actual attempt at sexual
intercourse, and it frustrated me a great deal.
Actually this turned
out to be somewhat of an advantage, however, as we were then
forced to experiment with other forms of sexual stimulation. We
gained a good deal of experience in cunnilingus, fellatio, and
stimulation of the genitals by manipulation with our fingers as a
result, experience which I am very grateful for.
It happened the summer after my junior year in high school. My
boyfriend was someone whom I had been going with for about two
years at the time, and he was the same age as I was.
He started to
French kiss and soon started fondling my breasts. I remember that
he was very slow and gentle that night in every move he made, and
we both seemed to be in a daze.
Then I felt him unzip my jeans and
felt him start to caress my genitals, kissing me the whole time. We
both started breathing harder and heavier and he started kissing
me everywhere. This went on for a few minutes, and then all of a
sudden it hit me what was happening.
I jumped away from him and
yelled at him to stop; I just started sobbing uncontrollably. I didn't
want him to touch me at all; I just wanted him to leave me alone.
I'll never forget the look of confusion and hurt on his face. I was so
upset. I felt so shameful and cheap.
Everything was racing through
my mind-things that I had been taught, my morals, ideas that he
would lose respect for me, everything. All I wanted to do was go
home. I just wanted to get away from there, and away from him for
the time being.
My first real sexual encounter was when I was a sophomore in high
school. I was going with the star athlete on the basketball and the
football teams.
I was his girl when he had time to date, and that
was on and off for about two years. I had never been sexually
interested in anyone before.
One night he began unbuttoning my
blouse, and I cringed as I felt his warm hands on my breasts, yet I
soon became more relaxed and almost enjoyed it. He had been
around and his patience sexually with me was wearing thin.