TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FIRST FUCK AND I WILL ILLUSTRATE IT.
IF YOU WANT A COPY OF THE ZINES, OR TO SUBMIT, GO HERE email@example.com
OTHER PEOPLE'S STORIES:
Title: MY MOTHER FUCKED ME FIRST
I looked for men who I was attracted to and who I could charm easily.
Lucky for me he had a big dick. His name was David, but his hockey friends called him "LD" for Loaded Dave or "The Unit."
We were in high school. Grade 12. I was a wild spirit with no soul. All out, no in. I wore red tights, never looked at art and spent all of my money on clothes. I was my mother. My father was so handsome and worked so hard to support the family, I thought she must have something right.
So hockey players it was, the clean ones, who saw their sisters as people.
He had the whole thing planned. He came over just after my parents left for the cottage. He brought a knapsack.
He ordered Swiss Chalet and set my kitchen table with placemats and candlesticks that he'd brought from home. He said, "I wanted it to be special," as he lit the candles.
We made out in the hallway, up against the wall. I still remember the wallpaper.
We backed down the hall toward my room, still kissing. I could feel his erection. I knew what was happening.
We took off our clothes. He was so excited. I was acting. I wonder now which movie taught me to undress like that, how to sit on the bed like that. We kissed more. We were quiet. He went to put on a condom. His erection was so beautiful. He touched my body softly; he thought I was there with him.
I was dry. He came so fast. I pushed him off. Nicely, I'm sure. We lay there, under the covers. I was angry. I hadn't felt a thing. He said, "It's not supposed to be like this, we're supposed to be happy." I wanted to say sorry, I had traumatized him, but I didn't realllly want to. I said nothing.
He may have stayed over. It was winter. He dropped part of his key chain in the driveway when he was getting into his car. "Dave," it said, with a little hockey stick. I threw it out later, and put toilet paper in the garbage over top, so my Mom wouldn't see.
i had just turned 16
my parents were out of town and i had a few friends over to drink and smoke weed
he came over with a friend of mine's obnoxious boyfriend
we smoked a blunt on the back porch all together
everyone went to sleep and i stayed downstairs with him on the living room couch
it was almost pitch black. it was so dark and i was wearing my pajamas
a big tee-shirt given to me by my grandfather
i was on top of him and we were making out
then i guess he slipped his dick inside me
i was so fucked up i wasn't sure if he had just fingered me or we did it...i think he quietly left in the morning.
we never really spoke again except at a party where i couldn't even pick him out of a crowd- a friend had to point him out to me.
he was tallish, pale white, lanky, brownish-reddish hair, had just eaten shrooms so his pupils were big and scary. he was older than me (>20 years old) and a used-to-be-super-christian
I started going out with this girl when I was sixteen. We skipped school together and cocooned ourselves in our love. I had given her the first orgasm she had ever experienced by rubbing the crotch of her pants as she lay on top of me. She was the first girl who had ever made me cum. I remember barely being able to fathom how incredible it had made me feel. She sucked on my dick so innocently and the dangerous slow build of my first climax (caused by someone else) left me in belief of a higher power.
The loss of our virginity was an exaggerated horror movie. I can't remember why but there was so much pressure surrounding the exchange of our virginities. She always talked of being really worried she would be able to 'fit' me. she had a very tight opening (I knew she was tight in comparison to the three or four girls I had fingered in my life at least) and my penis was bigger than the three or four other specimens she had seen.
She eventually told me she was ready one night when I was at her place watching a movie. I was ecstatic. We agreed we would skip the next day of school.
I bought the condoms with no embarrassment, just idiot pride, and walked to her house early the next morning. We lit candles. looked deeply into each others eyes and trusted each other as we took our clothes off hoping to will the experience perfect. I massaged her at her request to relax her and eventually began to kiss her young skin and finger her. Eventually this led to me licking the folds of her vagina, believing in every tastebud as they rolled over her clit in warmth and electric shock.
I put the condom on, she tried to help.
I could tell she was just doing this for me and I felt anxiety to make the process as painless as possible. I spread the lips of her vagina as she looked away waiting for pain(?). I put my penis tip where I thought it should go and slowly began to push. It seemed that I was making a vain effort. I was very conscious of how I was making her feel. I couldn't seem to fit it in without giving her one violent thrust that I knew was gonna hurt and possibly inflict bodily harm. we tried a few different positions with me being the only one trying to penetrate until she started to nearly shriek at the pain she was experiencing. i decided it could wait.
The next time, she wanted to get high first thinking it would relax and numb her so I could just get on with the popping. We got naked and started fooling around and when the moment of truth came she couldn't take it. She got very uptight and she was trying to accuse me of buying pot that was laced with something. The pot was fine.
I took off the condom and felt apologetic and traumatized, the advertised version of intercourse made it seem so easy and pleasurable. I didn't dare bring it up to her in the next month or so. It wasn't worth the stress and connotations. I felt it was only me who wanted to do it and I didn't really know how to make it work. She asked her friends who had lost theirs. I would have asked my friends but I was pretty much the first person I knew who was even close to losing theirs. One day while we were naked and cuddling into each other she leaned into my ear and said 'We can try it again. the first time is supposed to be painful for me and you are a bit bigger... just keep going. then it'll only get better.' She did want to lose her virginity, and she wanted to lose it with me but it had turned into this thing we had to do. rather than a daydream we had homework. We had regrouped though and the next time we tried we finally got it in. We fooled around for a prolonged period of time. I was concentrating on fingering and eating her out trying in my limited knowledge to stretch and lubricate her before I ripped open the condom pack. I leveled my penis at her vagina and slowly pushed until I got through, the feeling was more 'I did it!' than 'this is cosmic, indescribable bliss'..
I caused her skin to rip at the base of her vagina as a result. I didn't know if it was normal or not. there was blood on the sheets. i didn't notice exactly when it had happened but after i got it in i pumped awkwardly for a bit knowing that every movement was causing pain. we noticed the blood only after i had stopped pumping. She was wincing. I got towels and anything she asked for until she asked me to leave before her mom came home and she would talk to her about it. I was a wreck and was tortured by guilt. She called me later that night to tell me everything was alright and it didn't hurt that bad, it just kind of stung. It got better over time but it always felt a bit awkward, she still experienced pain for a while. It wasn't until my next partner that my fantasy images matched reality and more so.
I considered it a great prize to be led on my Sexual Way by an older, experienced woman. Though I suspect young male virgins are also coveted , if not merely for the sport and story.
She was living at home, though, relatively removed in the basement where we bided our time with endless squirming chemistry games. It was decided that waiting until her mom split for the weekend was the best laid plan, as this would afford us all the time and privacy needed for my lengthy indoctrination.
And when the weekend came there was no second guessing her mom's absence. The arrangements had been well laid out, right down to a fresh box of Kleenex and pre-poured glasses of water within arms reach of the bed. At first I thought she had tuned into the severe cold I had just picked up, with thoughtful consideration, but there was no mention of that and I was promptly thrown to the bed.
Anyway, I came in like, two minutes. Then I passed out from the NyQuil I had mistaken for DayQuil. Later she told me that she fucked me two more times, all while I was, more or less, unconscious. To me (and prematurely) this was an indication of virility, though, I was soon corrected on that point.
it was morning and i forced him into it, knowing that we wouldn't be together forever, let alone a week more. i just wanted to get sex over with.
when he left, i felt elation only in connection to having lost my virginity.
later that day, my ugly jock roommate told me that he'd slept with 27 girls.
I had a boyfriend throughout grade 8 who I'd broken up with before going away for the summer, though we talked over MSN and maintained a friendship. So despite the fact that all year I hadn't let him go near my vagina, I wanted my first time to be with him because we were close friends and I felt safe with him. It was the first week of grade 9, I was 14, and one day after school we went to his house and fooled around. I started taking off my clothes, and tried to get his off too, but he stopped me. He slunk away from me and said "I don't know when my parents are coming home." I took this to mean "You are gross get the fuck away from me."
I was very hurt, especially when he ignored me for the next week. Wouldn't talk to me at school or answer my phone calls. I was sort of heartbroken, but also feeling like a brat, so that weekend I went over to his best friend's house to smoke weed and rant about it. Best Friend and I smoked a blunt and were laying around his room watching Jerry Springer with the sound off, listening to.... I can't remember if it was Bad Religion or The Offspring, but one of those. I told him all about the Ex and what had happened when I tried to sleep with him. He explained that Ex was just scared, I had come on too strong for him. And that's when he came on to me.
We kissed and got naked, I remember being completely shocked and frightened by the size of his dick. In retrospect it probably wasn't That big, but at the time it reminded me of a horse. His shoulders were broad and his body was very heavy, it was extremely painful. I remember simultaneously pushing him away and pulling him in, meanwhile wondering when it would start feeling good. I guess the best part was when he asked me if it hurt, for some reason that stands out as being nice. He then asked to do doggy style and I totally froze, it must have been the weed, because I immediately thought he wanted to do anal. I can't remember exactly how I reacted, probably something like bashfully asking him to just keep going. It wasn't until later that evening I was at home and realized the mistake I had made. Woops! Embarrassing. I had always liked talking about sex, and pretended to know or have more experience than I really did, and so in that moment I realized that I knew nothing at all.
I stopped being friends with that group shortly after. High school, new people, new friends. Ex didn't find out for another five years or so, I think it was brought up at a party and his reaction eventually trickled down to me. Apparently he was furious, which is sort of predictable.
For a long time I regretted my choice because it felt spiteful and rash, but 8 years later, I think on it fondly. I remember more funny details now, like the way his sweat dripped onto me, and wishing that I got to lose it while listening to music that I actually liked
I was 15. I had a boyfriend who was 2 years older than me. We decided to one night after we got home from school. My lamp was on next to my bed and I remember the whole time, not feeling pain or pleasure, just thinking how weird it was. How surreal...My brain was sort of freaking out for a while because it was actually happening. Seemed to go on for ages, I remember looking at my walls, they were orange. Eventually we had to stop because I heard my dad's car outside. I had my first nosebleed on the day I first had sex. It was interrupted and strange.
I lost my virginity at a sleepover camp for rich kids. I grew up in a townhouse apartment and went to public school but by the mid 80's my dad had a good job so he sent my brother and I to this fancy camp where they had sailboats, horses, waterskiing and everything a kid could want. The camp was filled with well-bred private school girls from Branksom Hall, wealthy international kids and a bunch of rich boys mostly from Upper Canada College. I had never known private school boys but the competition in those schools must be fierce, because these guys were some of the meanest motherfuckers I have ever known.
In my first year at the camp, I learned about a new form of torture, a kid in my tent held me down with a paddle and slowly spat in my face only to suck it back up quickly over and over again. I was awoken in the night with Purple Nurples, had all my personal stuff spread into the woods and adopted the worst nickname that stuck with me every summer for years, "Pickle." I don't know if I got that nickname because I was a late bloomer and everybody else around me had gone through puberty or the fact that I wet the bed and would crawl back into my wet sleeping bag every night, thereby "Pickling" myself.
I loved being the underdog; I must have because I went back to that camp for four summers. Eventually I did go through puberty, outgrew bedwetting and kissed some of the prettiest girls in camp.
The girl who took my virginity was my CIT (Councilor in training). I liked her right away when I met her; she was a confident, healthy, fertile North Toronto girl. She described herself as having Alabaster skin, it was soft pale and almost transparent. A councilor dating a CIT is forbidden at camp, which gave it a little extra excitement, but to my discredit, probably a little easier score on my part. Despite being a year older she really did call all the shots in our affair.
We went on a five-day canoe trip together, taking care of a bunch of kids and traveling around Ontario lakes and islands. On the last night we stayed by the fire after the kids had gone to sleep and got romantic under the stars. We took our smooching into my tent so the kids wouldn't catch us; we kissed and rolled around until the tent became to muggy and we ran out of oxygen. She told me she was on the pill and had sex regularly with her previous boyfriend. I lied and said I had lost my virginity to a girl I had only fooled around with at school.
When we came back to camp we acted like nothing had happened but I would sneak into her tent/cabin at night. One night she said it was time for us to have sex; I lost my virginity as silent as I could because there was four other CIT's sleeping a few feet away. It was a missionary affair because she told me sex from behind wasn't respectful and I really was glad to have it any way I could. We continued to have sex that summer everywhere we could and I developed a big crush. I remember bringing our sleeping bags out to the woods and having stuffed up allergy sex where you can't kiss much because you can't breath through your nose.
News of our affair got around and eventually they called me into the office to tell me I wasn't supposed to be dating a CIT. I don't remember if we did much after that but I was a changed man. In the second session of the camp after she was gone I kissed the most sought after girl at the camp, a total barbie, the Pickle was now a stud.
When we returned to Toronto we tried to continue our relationship but our gigantic differences really started to show. She was a rich North Toronto girl who went to a waspy jock school and I was an artsy from North York. She broke up with me not too long after. I told her I had lost my virginity to her but that failed to impress, I suppose she will always be a lot more special to me than I am to her.
i'm 20 years old and i've been fat my whole life, no girls ever wanted me. i turn vegetarian and then vegan and i'm thousands of miles away from home, in fucking vancouver. all of the sudden i'm skinny. this girl gets a job where i work. everyone says i should get with her because she wears a lot of black, like me, like we're some fucking addams family match made in heaven. i'm like "naaahhh"...next thing i know a couple months later i'm finger banging her on the beach in the rain. i'm 21 by then. we go to her place and i never ate pussy before before but here goes. i say some gay shit like "you taste beautiful". whatever guy it was my first time, i'll fuckin kill you. she tells me years later she thought i was a fag cause i couldn't get it up [it was the condom] the very first time we tried, but she also said it was the best head she's ever had [yesguy]. i never put on a condom before. we fuck without one cause she says she's clean, and she is. we spend three days in her room fucking, sleeping, talking and not eating. i get sick. she gets sick. things got pretty fucking dark after that and lasted a couple years. all in all i wish i'd lost my virginity to emma bell from grade ten latin and never went to vancouver in the first fucking place.
I was 24 and still a virgin. Not only was I virgin, but I had never seen (other then tv), touched or licked a pussy in my life. I was working in a record store and met a girl named Nicole. She was 22, a divorcee and a card carrying member of the Communist party, so I figured my chances were pretty good. We made out for a week, peeking with me playing with her nipples at the Royal repertorie theater on College. That night I tried to touch her pussy, she rebuffed me with extreme prejudice. The next day, however, Nicole abruptly blurted out at Lunch, "Are we gonna fuck or what!?" That night I tried again to touch her pussy, still rebuffed, mixed signals abounded. Finally, the next morning, starting with making out, I touched her pussy, she liked it, I then proceeded to lick her pussy in a way that I had seen in a movie called "New Wave Pajama Party." Although her cooze smelled like a smoked meat sandwich I gave it my all, without anymore hesitation she stated, "Let's make love." I fucked her twice that morning and broke up with her a week later, when she stated, "You are a dog," and proceeded to bark in my face. In the course of three weeks I went from a pussy-naive poodle and became a cunt-lapping great dane, woof-woof!
My first time happened when I was 17. It had been a pretty difficult time finding anyone decent enough to fuck being a teenager, so it wasn’t for a lack of trying that I ended up taking some decisive action by this age. To be honest, at the time it was still a matter of figuring out what I wanted in a man.
I was living at home with my parents, finishing up high school with no real aspirations for the future, save the glimmer of some smart, funny, and preferably well-off/hung dude to come along and take me away from the banalities of my safe, quiet little life. I guess us homos get restless without any companions save your hand and the occasional stolen porn.
I’d had an offer or two to sleep with girls, and even a nagging best-friend, whose girlfriend I was close to who wanted to experiment with a three-way. I guess that could have been one hell of a way to lose my virginity, but I just couldn’t picture myself fucking (or being fucked by) my best friend while she watched. Oh the naivety of youth!
So being young, relatively dumb and full of sexual ambition, my sexual voice became the internet. Eww, I shudder to even think of it, but shame will have to take a back-seat from this point onward. So from age 14 onward, I was calling sex-phone lines and meeting up with creepy middle-aged dudes, convincing myself I would meet the right kind of person for me. I met people my age, all of whom weren’t really who they’d claimed to be. I met slightly older guys, the benefits of which were they: a) had cars and b) had their own places…usually. I still couldn’t find anyone who did it for me.
Then one night it just happened. I met a guy in a chatroom who was smart, had funny shit to say and came on strong. He claimed to be an actor (true) and a personal trainer (nope!) and lived in Montreal. We arranged to meet after corresponding for a few weeks, after which he came to Toronto to visit a friend.
We met in Yorkville (upon his suggestion) in June. I was struck by how young I felt when I saw how much of an adult he was. He was attractive, with somewhat of a boyish look about him. He’d claimed to be 27 and I admitted I was just getting up to 18. We walked around the city, talking about nothing good.
We eventually went to his friend’s apartment. No one else was home. We had a few drinks, and started kissing and made our way to the guest bedroom. We stripped down to our underwear and climbed into bed. He was pretty good about the situation. We talked and would kiss and touch each other. Kissing each other’s bodies and slowly we were naked. Then he went to get condoms. The lights were off. I was kicking at the sheets, eagerly awaiting what I’d worked so hard to get.
He enters the room. It is dark. He is naked, but all I can see is his silhouette cast against the light spilling through the mini-blinds from the window behind me. He warns me that he is pretty big, and that some people get uncomfortable with his girth. Because of this I am slightly relieved that he won’t realize this is my first time, and nervous at what that will leave me to “take”.
He took it slow, and while it was a lot to take, I managed. I remember feeling uncomfortable with doggy-style, and we tried missionary eventually both being comfortable with a spoon position. We both came. We then had a shower together.
The next day I went back to my parents’ house, half ashamed and the other half exhilarated. He called me that day, and I claimed I was sick. This guy wanted to hang out all week-end and I was just looking to get over my reluctant virginity. We then went on to date for a year, long-distance. I still think about that fat dick of his. I don’t recommend long-distance relationships though.
I was 17 when I lost my virginity. I had the opportunity to loose it sooner, but I was 'saving it for someone'. I also had this vague notion that I should wait until the legal age, for me it seemed like an important—adult—decision to make.
That someone was a boy named Michael, also 17, who I met on the IRC chat room #darkpoetry. My screen name was Dahlia, his was Yonderboy.
At the time I live in A-------, which is in S-------, and Michael lived in P-----, over 2000km away.
We had developed a strong attachment, based on gothic/cyberpunk attitudes and a love for Roman and Greek myths. We exchanged photos and letters, talked on the phone and spoke to each other on IRC almost everyday for many many hours.
I was instantly in love when he sent me a photo he has taken in a black and white photo booth, showing PC slot pins (or some other hardware relic) embedded in his arm. He truly was a machine. He told me his mother had taken him to see a psychologist.
We exchanged letters of startling intensity. They were tormented tomes, full of flourishing, depressive text (his) and derisive misanthropy (mine). We signed out names in blood.
Some time after my final year at school had ended (or near to it ending), he came to visit for two weeks. I had asked my mother if an internet friend could stay. She was incredulous asking 'where will he sleep?'—I said 'in my room,' and despite her obvious misgivings I had proven myself trustworthy with boys so he was allowed to visit.
He took the bus. It's a 36 hour trip, I know because I completed it myself some months afterwards. I met him at the bus stop and we embraced.
We came back to my house and we talked and talked, lying in bed and holding hands and kissing and being 'intense'. I had black hair then and wore a lot of underwear as clothing. He had t-shirts with bar codes on them.
Eventually I suggested we should have sex, ostensibly to 'see if it fits.' I was probably excited and nervous, but looking back the strongest feeling I had was curiosity. It was an uneventful affair. It did not hurt, I did not bleed. I did not orgasm (I would wait until 23 for that pleasure). I did not feel older. I did however get a horrible case of thrush, which I now hear is common on your first time. My mother suggested yogurt, and I suspect she knew what was going on.
Over the next two weeks we explored a lot of things, including me fucking him with a candle I had whittled into the shape of a penis.
I think we stayed together for six months—maybe more—my memory of those years is hazy. He moved to A------- and lived with his Aunt and Uncle, but was not really interested in getting a job or going to university, and I was. He moved back to P----- after which we agreed to see other people. He then broke up with me via phone. I cried a lot. After we broke up we hardly talked again.
I believe he lives in M------- now and is some sort of computer wanker and makes really bad 8-bit techno music under the DJ name 'DeadCode'.
Now the strongest memories I have of him are the time I bit his chin and he hit me hard in the face. I also have his letters, some on huge sheets of paper all written in blood. Actually I can't find them. I think I hid them at my father's house so my younger sister would not find them and have since forgotten where they might be. I tried to find them earlier this year, furiously turning over my old room (now the household junk room). Those letters belong in a library.
I was a really horny teenager, and had never really been able to make it work as far as getting penetrated went, probably because I was a weirdo. In grade 10 I was adopted by a really hot, older, popular girl with extreme anxiety issues. We became inseparable, and by the time grade 11 rolled around she decided it was time to get me laid, which I could not have agreed with more. She worked at a very touristic bar/restaurant in a mall downtown, and had a lot of opportunity to scope out older guys. Eventually she found the right one, and explained that he was an "actor/model" (24!) and the next time he came by around closing time she would call me. Not long after I got a call to come down ASAP.
In all honesty, the actor/model was not super-impressive to me, but I knew he would have sex with me and that's what was important. I went back to his shared condo with his friend, who left shortly after so we could get down to business. He was "taking a break" from his girlfriend (or she was "taking a break" from him), and I guess having sex with a virgin was a pretty cool thing to do. When he took his shirt off he had an "Asian character" tattoo (the most Chinese this guy got was when he ordered in some chicken balls), and told me it meant "strength". I did a very good job of not looking like I was laughing at him. Despite this, I really enjoyed it! It was fun! I didn't want to stop! All night! He told me he didn't beleive I was a virgin, but the pool of blood we woke up in was probably enough proof for a whole village of Gypsies.
Anyhow, his condo had a hot tub on the roof, and I figured sex would probably get even better the more I tried it, so I ended up coming over maybe once a week or so. It was so funny! His tattoo was just the tip of the iceberg. He really was into Edwin, a supremely crappy singer whose new music video "Alive" featured dolphins and a children's choir. I told him I thought it was super hilarious too, but he looked at me like I didn't know Art when I saw it.
One day we had a date, but when I showed up at his condo and rang the buzzer no one answered, and he wasn't picking up his cell. I rang 3 times, and eventually the roommate picked up and told me "he's not here", at which point I knew for sure that this guy could go fuck himself. My matchmaking friend agreed he was an asshole, and also let me know he was back with his girlfriend. A few days later I used her cell phone to call him up. It went like this:
"Hi _______, it's __________. Would you like me to stop calling you?"
"No! Why would you think that?"
"Because you seem to be avoiding me, and if you don't want to do this anymore just tell me."
"No! It's not like that!"
"Yes it is. I just want you to be honest with me."
"I don't know what you mean."
I saw him two more times since then. The first was a few years later on Christmas eve morning, in a snow storm. This somewhat familiar guy was walking towards me, and I smiled politely and kept walking, like I usually do when I vaguely recognize someone. He stopped and called my name and told me who he was. Awkward!
The next time was a few years after that when I was walking home past a really obnoxious nightclub known for it's coke-based scene. He was in the line-up to get in and called out to me, and I said hi and was walking away when he shouted out "why you gotta be that way?!?"