Board index
Login
Register
Search
I'm sort of on vacation right now. My wife is off on a COVID-delayed cruise with my sister, so I decided to drive down to the place where I grew up and maybe see a few friends and see what's changed in the old homestead. It was basically a two-day drive, but I made it without any trouble.
Last fall, using a few software tools that I normally wouldn't have access to, I discovered that my first real girlfriend was living in the same town, and I got her address. I actually sent her a birthday card, and my e-mail address, but she never responded, so she either threw it out or never got the card. C'est la vie. I don't do social media, but I had access to a Facebook account, and through that I was able to find her page. There weren't any current photos of her, but there was a very old one, which proved that I had the right person, as that photo was exactly what she had looked like when we were a couple. I was reminded of how cute she had been.
To provide a little background -- we met when we were both in our first year of university. I was 17 and she was a few months younger. We met through a mutual friend, and kind of clicked right from the start. She had never had a boyfriend, as was evidenced the first time I called her house to ask for a date, and I heard her brother say, "It's a boy calling for...!". Once we started dating, we fairly quickly progressed through the usual kissing, feeling up, getting under clothes, finally making each other come scenario. One day, she asked me to "get something and take me". Of course, back then, it was a right of passage to have to go to the drugstore, walk all the way to the back, and ask the old guy pharmacist for a box of condoms. These were then placed in a plain bag and marked with a price, so the teenage girl on the cash didn't have to handle the disgusting items directly. My how that part of things has changed.
The eventful night arrived, we took each other's virginities, and a good time was had by all. After that, we had sex whenever we could, experimenting with different positions and many locations. She gave very good blowjobs, didn't mind me coming in her mouth (although she didn't swallow), and I performed oral sex on her whenever I had the chance. She would even blow me as part of saying good night when I brought her home. Quite honestly, I was madly, deeply in love, I think even before the sex started happening. Oddly, one time when I was about to go down on her, she stopped me and said she really didn't like that, because "she couldn't see herself doing it to another girl".
All told, to this day she is still the hottest and most energetic sex partner I have ever had. I actually made her pass out from an orgasm on several occasions. The first time that happened it scared the shit out of me. She was also capable of having what I called "chain reaction orgasms". She could, quite literally, come and come and come, one right after the other. Of course, after one of those streams, she usually would pass out. It was quite the ego boost for someone only a little away from being a virgin. So, when I write scenes about things like that, I am speaking from experience.
The relationship seemed almost idyllic. We didn't see each other as much during our second year of classes as the work had got harder, and we were both trying to improve our grades. They had suffered because of the number of times we had cut classes to get together for sex during our first year. Suddenly, about two-thirds of the way through the second year, she dumped me. It felt like I got hit in the chest with a baseball bat. I couldn't breathe. We had even talked about getting married, but now that was all over.
I moped for weeks, finally deciding that the only way to get over it was to throw myself into my studies. I started living at the university computer centre and went nowhere socially for weeks. Finally, near the end of term, a friend dragged me out to supper at a tavern, then to a function at the university with the intention of getting drunk. Unfortunately, she was there with a group of her girlfriends. At one point, I ran into her best friend and asked her if she thought there was ever a chance that we might get back together. She dissolved into tears as she told me it was never likely going to happen.
A few minutes later, my now ex-girlfriend sought me out and tore a strip off of me for making her friend cry, and told me in no uncertain terms that we were never getting back together. I suddenly felt like the world had lightened, and I joined my friend and told him that I was now officially over the girl. We proceeded to drink to my new-found freedom. I did see her at a distance at other functions during the rest of the year, but never spoke to her again. The last time I can remember seeing her, she was sitting on some guy's lap and she gave me a sneering kind of look, which I took to mean, "See what he's getting that you're not."
I started working full-time shortly after that, and was never back in university. I never saw her again. From her Facebook page I found out that she had moved to the other side of the country some time after finishing her degree, and lived there for over a quarter-century. Of course, when she made the move things like Facebook didn't exist, so I had no way to find this out. Her page did tell me that she was back, and I had her address, so I stupidly thought I would stop in and say hello. After all, 50 years have gone by, I've been married to someone else for almost all of that time, I bore her no ill will, and I thought that after 50 years she might not still be pissed at me.
For the hell of it, the night before I went by I decided to check her Facebook page once again, just in case she said she was going to be away. On it, she had posted a TikTok video, with her in it, so I could now see what she looked like. That led me to TikTok, where I discovered she had made dozens of videos. In them. she also professed to be a lesbian, which really blew me away. I did go to her house, and spoke to her for about ten minutes. I don't know what I was really expecting, but I didn't get invited in, we only talked on her veranda. She pointed out the rainbow colours of the shutters on her house, and quite openly admitted to being gay. She said that she had moved to the other side of the country partly for a job and partly because it was safer there for gay people.
A few things really got to me. First, the years have not been kind to her physically. Yes, she's 50 years older, and her hair has gone white. So has mine. But she used to be very athletic -- swam a lot, played near championship-level tennis, and so on. However, she has put on a lot of weight and is quite rotund. Her facial features have also changed to the point that I would never have recognized her on the street. The thing that really stuck in my twisted little mind, especially considering the kinds of stories I write, was her 50-year-old statement that she didn't like me performing cunnilingus on her because she "couldn't imagine doing that to another girl". Well, if she's a lesbian, then isn't oral sex one of the main methods that two women use to pleasure each other?
Had the conversation with her managed to get any deeper, then my devious evil little mind would have likely raised the question. Of course I also would probably have been thrown out at that point, but the irony of the situation was just a little too much to resist. I have often said, to explain away my evil utterances, that "I'm at that awkward age -- I am old enough to know better, but too young to resist". I will say that, given what she now looks like, I really couldn't see myself with my tongue in her pussy. Yes, that's chauvinistic and misogynistic, but I used to really enjoy eating her and bringing her off.
The other weird thing is that this is now the second girlfriend I've had who has proclaimed herself to be a lesbian. Neither of them claimed to be that while I was trying, successfully or otherwise, to get into their respective panties, but it is a little weird. Do I have that effect on women? My wife hasn't indicated anything of the sort, at least not so far
Well, thus endeth my little tale. If you stuck it out this far, I thank you. It was just one if those things that I had to get out, and I often find that writing about stuff gets it out of my system.
Cheers
MH