So I've been trying to get into the discipline of writing regularly on my blog for many reasons mainly it's because I find it incredibly therapeutic, for good or bad it listens to every word of what I say and as person with verbal diarrhea that can be quite hard to come by. The problem I have with writing this is figuring out what to write so I have decided that I will tell you about me by telling you about things that have happened to me so here goes. Oh and if you're related to me I suggest you don't read this post unless you want to know me even better than you already do and it would be in a way that I'm sure you really really don't!
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Being a young girl I was incredibly naive, even though I live in a town that was at one time apparently inhabited by thugs and ahem loose ladies (This was obviously not entirely true though just like anywhere I'm sure it had its fair share of both but it had an ugly reputation) I was not particularly sexual as a schoolgirl, never really had boyfriends and didn't have a snog till at least 13 and even then they were few and far between. But then it happened, I was 16 and a year or so earlier I had discovered alcohol, oh that fabulous nectar that seemed to make everything and everyone happy and funny!
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I've always been quite naive when it comes to the delights of the flesh and how people describe it. I pretty much have my foot in my mouth all the time when it comes to sexual innuendo and I spend my life blushing!
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I remember when I was around 11 I was at a local park when a lad who was a few years older than me asked if I gave good head (he was about 14 and showing off) I was incredibly offended that he would think I could do something badly so proudly announced that I was great at giving head to the delighted laughter of all those around. I decided I'd brazen it out but as soon as I got home I dashed to the garden where my brother was doing some random activity and asked him 'Whats giving head only I told someone I give it really good?' he was understandably surprised at the question and told me that it was something grown ups did and I'd understand when I was older (he was diplomatic even at 15) It wasn't until I had my first experience of 'giving head' that a memory of asking my brother what it was popped into my mind - bit of a mood killer I can tell you!
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Anyway I went off on a bit of a tangent there when what I was basically trying to explain is the type of girl that gets herself in these situations.
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Sooo, here was me 16 and hanging out with some older girls who were and are still lovely and incredibly protective and yet I still managed to get very drunk on a regular basis. It was on one of these occasions that became close with a childhood friend and by close I mean I drunkenly decided that I wanted him to be the one I lost my cherry to. Yep that's right I looked at him and thought, I know where I stand with him, we wont be pretending we love each other, should be OK.
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We were classy, we got to yet another local park where he proceeded to undress me and I fumbled around like an idiot as I'd never actually you know, touched a penis let alone anything else and just kind of hoped I was doing it right. Then I woke up (yes I believe I passed out at some point through the highlights) a car pulled up and a young family got out heading home from a long trip. I was mortified!
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C* managed to cover my face, unfortunately my big white arse was pretty bloody visible. Shortly after getting out of the car the family disappeared into their house and I decided that, actually, I was done. I whipped on my top, yanked on my nickers and trousers and waited patiently for him to finish what ever it was boys had to do to finish before politely thanking him and walking the rest of the way home (I think I said something briefly in a previous post about becoming extremely British when I feel I'm in a crisis this was another of those times)
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Still, unexciting as it was I couldn't wait to tell my best friend and her sister all about it. I recounted the story in gory detail even to the point when after I'd got in and pulled my trousers off I realised that I'd whipped them up in such haste I pulled up half the park inside my knickers as they were full of pebbles.
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My friends sister K* then asked me "Was it long??", I pondered this for sometime before answering "Well, I haven't really got anything to compare it with but I think it was you know, kinda normal, ooooh but it was really fat and pink"
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K* looked at me and said calmly "I meant did it last long" That was truly the first memory I have where I wished that the ground would open up and swallow me. Not only did I wish that then but 10 years on when those same friends call me pebble nickers I still wish it would open up and devour me in one whole piece!
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