Losing it...

Issy and I had pretty much totally opposite experiences with our early sex lives and with losing our virginity, and I think maybe it's interesting to know the back story. I'll let Issy tell hers (it's a much hornier story than mine) but here's what I remember...

I was interested in girls and sex from what seems like a pretty early age, although I have no real idea what is "normal", to be honest. Despite not having the internet in those long ago days, before I left primary school I'd seen plenty of soft porn via porno mags, and had avidly read the stories they contained. It's funny that the pictures seemed the most exciting part at the time, but it's the stories that have stuck with me. I remember one in particular, written from a wife's point of view, where she describes getting all dressed up like a slut, going out, and bringing home a guy to fuck her in front of her husband. He watches her get fucked and eventually licks the other guy's cum from his wife's pussy. And just to put the icing on the cake, when this other guy pops out for a piss and is gone for a while, she finds him fucking her teenage daughter, and just lets them have at it. That kind of blew my mind, as I recall.

ANYWAY, it's fair to say I understood the mechanics long before I was in a position to participate; I was a pretty late developer and didn't have my first "successful" wank until I was maybe 14 or 15. So I was very aware of what a man's body should be able to do, and therefore what mine wasn't ready to do yet. In my mind, I wanted to kiss girls, I wanted to feel tits and lick pussy, and the funny thing is that what scared me wasn't necessarily the idea of outright rejection. I remember very clearly this picture I had in my head, of being at some party and somehow managing to interest some hot girl. And I'd imagine us sneaking off somewhere quiet and me putting my hand up her top, slipping my hand down her knickers. And then I'd imagine her peeling off my trousers to find my little boy's penis and realising I wasn't enough of a man to follow through with my actions.

Now, obviously, with several years hindsight, there are various reasons why I didn't need to worry about that, but ultimately I'm sure it was just my version of "not ready yet", despite what I thought I wanted. So, anyway, all of this is to explain that it wasn't until after I'd gone through the key parts of puberty (in my mind then: pubes, broken voice and sperm) that I felt like I had the confidence to even consider trying my hand for real.

Anyway, I'll leave it there for today - writing this, it's amazing how much is coming back to me and how much I feel like I have to say and maybe even still have to process. So, to be continued...

Trist