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The End of Innocence
The End of Innocence
I kinda stole the pitch for this entry from the likes of silkysmoothlegs blog.
I remember being a teenager and being horny most of the time, what with post-adolescent sexual tensions peeking by the time I turned 18. There was a sprinkling of romantic notions, eagerness for the puppy lovey doveys of teenage relationships, but it was mostly sex that drove my lazy bum to hook up with a girl.
Popular culture back then (80’s signature soft rock and slow ballads) in a way helped me find the right girl for exactly what I had in mind (yes, teenage boys have evil thoughts, as if you didn’t know that already). Kids were always with that ‘whatever’ and ‘yeah rite’ attitude, so it was easy to make small talk with even the coolest of girls. I had my first sexual experience when I was about 17+ when the bar manageress (she was about 19 or so) at the place I was working part-time, took me back to her rented room one night (after some free drinks) and kinda introduced me to smoking pot. There I was, stoned, with bursting sexual tensions in my loins; what more. At first I was kinda clumsy and wanted to get it on too fast but that girl was experienced and showed me how to do it slow and steady. After that day, we kinda had sex on a regular basis (and smoked). We’d have sex after work at night, in the mornings, on Sunday afternoons, whatever time was a good time for sex. I had a tiny four stroke motorcycle which translated meant freedom to go and do what I wanted. It was a great time to be a teen.
The thing I remember most is the music which was always playing as a prelude and background mood setter for sex. It was a mixture of 80’s glam rock, 70’s and 60’s rock, and some funky local canto rock (I think, beyond?, grasshopper?). Little did I realize not only was I being tutored in sex (and grass), I was indoctrinated by rock guitar music which made the journey even more pleasurable. We would always start by bitching about the lousy place we worked (and the suckers there) and as the grass got into our system (and whilst listening to deep purple, cream, stones), we’d get into some heavy petting. As soon as I felt her moist, I’d go down on her. I really loved doing this since it was so exciting seeing her cum (the expression on her face when she came was really ‘something’ for a 17 year old). Just imagine listening to Rolling Stones ‘Angie’ when going down on your girl (kissing and licking the right spot) and she came just when the chorus goes ‘..angie…angie….when will the clouds all disappear…’ awww I miss them days. It was sweeeeet, made even more pleasurable by the fact that we were open and keen to experiment sexually. I loved kissing her body, wonderful legs, firm backside, slender hips, supple bust while listening to pink floyd’s time ….‘Ticking away all the hours that make up a dull day…’ I have to admit it, I was addicted to the music as much as to her ‘smell’ and ‘taste’ (if you get what I mean). We were far from being shy and tried different positions, sometimes unsuccessfully, but it was fun nevertheless (if it didn’t work, we’d have a laugh about it and go on to some other positions). Bearing in mind that porn was hard to get in those pre-internet days, worst still, porn or sex materials, books, mags..etc., were rare in that little town I grew up in. So, we’d do anything which we remotely though was related to sex or made us feel sexy. Hell, I remember we did the ‘whip cream’ thing and enjoyed it tremendously and improvised with wine, syrup, even cold ice-cream (great to pop up nipples). We even shaved each other and did some weird kama sutra stuff. Sex was sooo much fun and enjoyable. After sex, we’d either smoked some more or go out for food (marijuana makes you hungry), after which we’d head back to her room and have more sex (I’d really hate having to go back home cuz my parents was going through a messy separation). I’d usually end up spending the night at her room. My brother would usually come looking for me then and drag me home (he was cool about it and didn’t tell my mom about my escapades).
I never can forget her and am forever grateful to her for giving me these memories. She was my friend, no emotional entanglements, just good friends who enjoyed having sex with each other. We kept our appearances at work but just let loose in her room. I remember that room vividly. She had a mattress on the floor, a zip-up closet, a cassette player (yes, a cassette player) connected to a pair of old wooden box speakers on stools (I gave her those) and a corner drawer with a plain flat top where she had a stand fan. I remember the room had worn-out posters of duran-duran, paul young, some canto pop band, etc. on the walls. She also had a ‘moody ball’, the one with lights on it (actually it was Christmas lights taped onto a ‘snoopy’ rubber ball) which she hung instead of a light bulb. Her other house mates kept to themselves and rarely bothered us. All of these combined to make the experience even more tantalizing. It all came to an end when I had to move on to pursue my education……I had more sex with other girls…(but that’s another future blog entry)…but nothing like this ever again.
I still re-collect those days. For me, it was my super sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll experience. (I’ve had many more but never came close to replicating them days in my home town.) I don’t do drugs nowadays (never tried other than grass and gave that up a long time ago) but I can’t deny it never happened nor that it was bad but being high did enhance the experience….(yet another future blog entry maybe).