[Fast Fiction: The First Time – March 7, 2006]
Most girls would rather not talk about their First Time. Strangely, they prefer keeping the details to themselves as though everyone else didn’t go through the same shy, clumsy, and sometimes ineffectual routine. I think we have a right to brag.
My fascination with it began with Tony D. The way he kept trying to pin me down on our first date drove me into a frenzy. I wanted to, but wasn’t ready. He called me names when I ran away.
I spent the next few months experimenting. Many guys were willing to let me lead and take my time if it meant they ended the night mauling boob. They never complained. I had saved myself for Tony and only he would get the honor of the full treatment.
When that day finally came, he sneered as we got in the backseat of his car and drooled when I got stripped. I was ravenous and the battle for who got on top was a sweaty, intoxicating, struggle. When the huffing, pounding, and moaning was finally done, I lay slumped over him, sweat dripping off my body. Ecstasy was mine. I was hooked and would never forget my first barehanded strangulation.
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