The “loss” of virginity is commonly held to be the first time that you had penetrative sex with someone. This, however, is just one of a range of sexual “firsts” that we have and, quite likely, wasn’t even the first of those “firsts”. So, today we are asking:
What was the first overtly sexual act you performed on someone else or had performed on you? How did you feel about it afterwards?
I wrote before for Wicked Wednesday about losing my virginity, which I consider my proper first time. Prior to that I had very little experience with boys. I went to an all-girls school during the early eighties, and although the boys had a school next door, I was never a member of the ‘crowd’ and boys held no interest for me. Nor would any boys have been interested in me; I was painfully shy, awkward and had thick glasses.
When I was 16, I left school, got contact lenses and went into further education, where I made a good friend. She often used to call her boyfriend at work, from a payphone, during the college day. She regularly used to tell me about a work colleague of his, and was quite obviously playing matchmaker. Inevitably, I ended up giggling down the phone nervously to him a couple of times during her phone calls.
Her boyfriend was having a 21st birthday party at a local social club. I was invited, and I was told that his friend, whom I had spoken with, was going to be there too. We chatted, danced and snogged on the dance floor. He then offered to ‘walk me home’ at the end of the night. I was a naive and gullible 16 year old, who was delighted that any lad had shown an interest in her and had no thought whatsoever for safety.
He took me to a local park, where there was a bandstand in the middle. He led me up the steps. It was around midnight and pitch black. My leg suddenly went through the floor; there was a gap in the floorboards, which there was no way of seeing. I was in agony and a bit shaken, but there was no way that I was going home. ‘I’ll be fine’, I said. Being such a gentleman and realising that my leg was not broken, he then decided that I was game for further sport. This spot was probably not appropriate for what he had in mind and he subsequently took me to another park in the town. This time we lay on the grass. It was July, and I had a thin cotton skirt and sleeveless top on. He took the opportunity to be all over me like a rash. His hands were everywhere. I naively hadn’t expected more than a bit of snogging. I don’t remember the intricate details, but I do recall that I kept saying no and pushing his hands away from trying to get in my knickers. He also was desperate to feel my boobs. I knew I didn’t want him to, and I shall never forget him saying ‘but it’s only skin, like any other part of your body’, when I tried to stop his hands from sneaking under my bra. He got the message in the end and stopped, but made it clear that I was the one in the wrong for denying him the freedom to grope me. I never felt scared, but I do remember thinking it wasn’t right; I didn’t want someone I barely knew touching me like that. And there was no pleasure, whatsoever. it just felt mechanical. I did find out during the fumblings, that he had been in trouble with the police for arson and was clearly from the wrong kind of background and part of town.
He did have the decency to walk me home, which was about 25 minutes away. By this time it was about 3am. What I hadn’t bargainned for was my mum waiting on the other side of the front door. He soon scarpered. Needless to say, I got into trouble for staying out so late without ringing home. But, my mum was more concerned about the dangerous situation I had put myself in with a man I didn’t know. And, there was the matter of my injured shin too. It was severely bruised the next day and incredibly painful. I have had a small bump on my shinbone ever since that night. A permanent reminder.
Although not overtly sexual, it was my first experience of being touched by a man and a rude awakening as to how naive and innocent I was when it came to matters of the flesh.