This shit is real and really crazy
Why did he write me? It’s been, what, 8 years I think? No… Maybe more. So why? Why was I on his minds all these years later? Third street on the right he says, yeah I know. I never forgot. How could I? That house is where he was last time I saw him. That’s where his little room was, his angry parents, his toys, his bed. It’s where I brought him tacos the day after we admitted we liked each other. We sat on the floor in front of his bed and desk. We were so shy and awkward. It took us over an hour to admit in a silly AOL chatroom to liking each other. My first crush from years back, right there in front of me, in the floor, eating tacos. Quickly interrupted by overbearing parents refusing to acknowledge his age.
I sat there eating as neatly as possible, picking at his carpet. Eye contact was not even close to an option. Just under his bed was a plastic container, his keepsake container… with Mary’s underwear in them. Would my underwear be in there some day? Would he ever see my underwear? I should go shopping. No one needs to see these. No one ever has so it has never mattered. I guess it does now.
It would be more than two weeks before he would even touch my hand. He wouldn’t kiss me, or anything further. Not until that night. As if we were kids and my mom was out of town… she was out of town. But I was no kid. 22 felt so old for being a virgin. Back then it did anyways. That night it was me and him, and a friend, Tara. And she was sick of hearing about me rattle on about how amazing he smelled. So she knew to leave early. Tara was never tired, but suddenly, that night she was and drove home, leaving me and him laying next to each other in my twin bed. Me in very uncomfortable panties…. bra wasn’t exactly comfortable either. Every single day there was even the slightest, teeny tiny possibility that he may at some point see said uncomfortable undergarments, I had them on.
Suddenly movies and music did not control my wallet. Lace did… and a lot of it black and red.Slutty phrases on my backside, stitched on to fabric that was completely see through. In a matter of weeks I went from cotton white, to anything but comfortable. And I never went back.
He tortured me that night. Tara was gone for a couple of hours before he finally touched me. His hand gently laid on my knee for a moment before gently, slowly moving up just a bit. This was it. This was my moment. Was I gonna chicken out? Or would I make something happen for myself for once in my life. And then I just let my knee start to fall toward his body, spreading my legs open, giving him neon signs to not stop. And he didn’t. If he had tried for sex that night, I would have happily gone to that level. But he denied me. A talent he would develop from that moment on in my mind.
Every touch was gently and slow and planned out on his part. If I hadn’t been so utterly terrified to my very core, I might have just climbed on top of him and ended my 22 years of virginity, one thrust at a time. But all I could do was take in every second, accept every touch he gave, and also accept when he stopped. I would imagine, it took just a few more minutes of tiptoeing one finger tip at a time before he found… “the bush”. See, I had bought tons of underwear. I had shaved my legs twice that day. I had my hair done, makeup on. I was perfection. But I had no idea that my cousin Brandy was right…. I should have shaved all along.
But he never hesitated. Maybe he was just that smooth, maybe he had come across one before. I have no idea. He even went down on me. In one night, I went from never having kissed, to being kissed, and touched, and fingered, and licked, and nibbled. One of the best moments was when he flipped me over on to my stomach and he ran his tongue ring from the bottom of my spine, to the top of my neck, right before kissing my neck. To this day, the back of my neck is a majorly sensitive and pleasurable spot for me. I truly believe, had that night gone any differently, my neck might have been as useful as an elbow. Can be a mouth, or tongue, or finger nails, or even warm breath on the back of my neck and I absolutely melt.
He took his time with me, I didn’t cum. Probably because I had never cum a single time in my entire life, and that was the most terrifying moment of my life. But I felt so much pleasure. His mom called and called and called and finally as the sun was coming up, he answered his phone. I could hear her yelling. Our blissful moment was over and he had to leave. His being 21 meant nothing to her. And then he was gone. I watched him out of my window getting in to his car and driving away. He had a taurus, and now I have one. Not a fluke.
After that, it was never as good. Everything fell apart. He was still in love with his ex. And after 6 months of trying to make him want what I wanted, I gave up and about a year later we were completely out of each others lives. I never heard from him again. I never stopped wanting to. But I never did until about 8 years later. Suddenly, boom. Facebook was all it took for him to find me. A desperate message from a dark moment in his life and bam, he was back.
It was very shortly after that fb message that we spoke on the phone. His voice flowed through my ears and in to my mind and he laughed the same. His velvet voice on the other end of a phone. Months passed and his relationship ended and so I agreed to come over. Third street on the right he said… as if I could possibly forget. As if I had even a tiny bit of trouble finding that house. The damn red tauras was still in the drive way. What was I doing there?
As I walked up to the door, I heard him yell to his mom to be nice because I was a friend. I knocked and he opened. Instant attraction. As if his voice through the door wasn’t effective, his movement was. And then, there it was. That smell. He always smelled so nice, and nothing had changed. I wanted him to hug me. I wanted him to do more. Funny thing though… this time, it was not just me that was nervous.
He could not make eye contact and he just kept arguing with his mom about absolutely nothing. I thought it would never end. I wanted him to shut up, and lead me downstairs to talk. But he was too busy being nervous to move from that spot for what felt like forever. But finally… finally we were alone, sitting on his couch, talking. I wanted him with every cell in my body. And there was no doubt, he wanted me just as much. But there were reasons not to. He was in love with his ex. I had a bf. I behaved. I did. That time.
The next time it was not so innocent. Our carnal needs took over where our phone conversations had left off. We just wanted to kiss. I told him, lets just kiss. Nothing will come of it. We will get over the sexual tension and go back to easily being friends, me with my bf and he in his time of having his heart broken. Yeah, it’s a damn miracle that the most passionate making out and a very fun hand job was all that came of it.
I wanted him inside me so bad I could not stand it. But having a bf stopped me at my hand. I ended my relationship that night, foolishly in a way. I thought what He felt that night was more than carnal, but long lost love that would finally work out to a beautiful happy ending. But it didn’t. It was a repeat of the past.
He is my first love, the love of my life, the best sex I have ever had, the best kisser, the best everything. I just can not have the beautiful happy ending. My heart is broken. But I can not be what he wants me to be, and he refuses to be what I need him to be.
Oh dear readers… when will I have the love that I can keep in my arms? When will I be given back what I am giving? This crazy girl’s heart, mind, soul and body feel utterly broken from loss. When will someone shout their love for me over the rooftops?