First Time Boys And Girls

By | October 15, 2009

Here are a few notable firsts from my life.

First Kiss

My first kiss was at the age of six. I’m not talking about pecks on the cheek or lips, stolen during games in the playground, they happened much earlier. No, a real kiss. Not passionate, what six year old understands about passion? But exploratory and with someone I cared about.

She was called Vicky and lived opposite my house. One summer we found ourselves playing together in her room. Don’t ask me why I just can’t remember. It was innocent, sweet and is tinged with the golden orange glow that envelopes all of my pleasant childhood memories.

First Wank

Early teens. Parents out at work. I was at home on school holidays. I locked all the doors, checked them, checked them again.

I remember a mail order catalogue and a frantic manipulation of my penis. When I came it was a revelation. Why hadn’t I been doing this for years? I did it twice more before my parents came home.

Note for the women reading this. Teenage boys are able to remove and replace underwear catalogues from their mother’s wardrobes without a trace. Even if the catalogue is buried under shoes and suitcases.

This is then applied to their father’s porn cache, when they find it.

First Passionate Kiss

School Christmas disco, early teens, her name was Debbie. We’d been good friends for nearly two years and it just happened. Unfortunately didn’t go any further as her boyfriends mate threatened to punch my lights out when he spotted us.

C’est la vie.

First (Proper) Grope

See first passionate kiss. There was no fingers in the gusset, nipple tweaking action. But we both spent time exploring each others lumps and bumps through our clothing.

First Porn Magazine

You never own your first porn mag. It’s always borrowed from a mate or secretly from your dad’s stash.

The first one (well two) I actually bought was from a shop in Soho. I’d managed until the age of 19 with borrowed porn and the saucy sections from various novels.

Me and a mate went to London to see a mutual friend working at a bank in the suburbs. We met at his digs, then spent a night of debauchery in Soho. No we weren’t daft enough to enter one of those decidedly dodgy bars where your first drink is free, then the rest cost £75 a pop. The ones where your tab is presented to you at the end of the night by a pair of blokes who look like Vinny Jones wannabees and will not take “I haven’t got £450 cash on me” for an answer.

What we did do is wander drunkenly into an all-night newsagents after the pubs had chucked us out and bought a handful of jazz mags to read on the train home. I’ve still got them, now dog-eared and looking very dated.

First Porn Video

You never own your first porn video either. You borrow it from a mate, or more likely a mate’s father’s stash.

The next one you copy from a borrowed video, by the time you watch it it’s a sixth generation copy. It could be polar bears humping because of all the snow, and the sound is so bad you have to turn the volume up to max to hear the muffled, badly dubbed, grunts.

Then you buy one by mail-order and find what you get back is so softcore you may as well be watching an episode of Emmerdale.

Then you look old enough to enter licenced sex shops and R18 DVDs and things get a whole lot easier.

First Fondle/Suck On a Girl’s Breast

About fifteen. Until then all fumblings had been restricted by a layer or two of fabric between my inexperienced hands/mouth and the objects of my desire. Quite clichéd location too, a hay meadow, high summer, much like today. The girl, whose name to my great shame I cannot remember, and I lay in the long grass indulging in some tongue gymnastics.

I slowly increased the intimacy of my groping as we kissed. As my ardour and confidence built I risked slipping my hand under the light cotton of her T-shirt and into the cup of her cotton bra. She didn’t object so I inexpertly rubbed for a while. She pushed me away, making me think I’d blown it, but instead she removed her T-shirt and unclipped her bra exposing a lovely petite chest.

We lay down and I sucked at her pink nipples gently for about five minutes before she decided that I’d had my treat for the day.

First Condoms

You always buy your first condoms, “In case I get lucky”. Though in truth it’s often more about inquisitiveness and wanting to get one out of the packet and have a fiddle with one outside the confines of the school sex-ed class. I for one never used my first packet they were opened/lost/washed in trouser pockets and therefore rendered useless before use.

In common with most guys they were procured by repeated furtive trips to the pub toilet, loitering for as long as I dared. Waiting until the toilet was empty before putting my money in the slot. But not waiting too long so as to look like I was cottaging, hence the multiple trips.

Second Condoms

I bought these from a local chemist. Full of the confidence that I was on a promise that night and buoyed by the thought that I was about to become “a man”. I swaggered in, confidently selected a packet of “Featherlite” from the counter and presented them and a grubby tenner to the girl behind the counter. I probably looked like a real tosser, though she must have seen the act before.

To my credit I did not buy three bottles of aspirin, a shower cap and a toothbrush before summoning up the courage to purchase the prophylactics.

First Purchase of Sanitary Protection for Your Partner

I’m pretty much at home with bodily functions, but it’s amazing how many other people aren’t. The first time I had to buy sanitary protection for a partner was soon after I started living with Suze. She was busy, probably on course work for a change, and she asked me as I was leaving the house to pick up some tampons.

I though nothing of picking up the box in the supermarket and putting it onto the conveyor watched by any number of people. What amused and astounded me was the disdainful look I received from the woman behind the checkout as she scanned the “offensive” item. She could not have given me a more disapproving stare if I’d been purchasing “Donkey Buggerers Monthly”.

NB: If there is such a publication as “Donkey Buggerers Monthly” I’m sure it’s much appreciated in its target market and that all it’s readers are very nice people.