Her first real sexual experience was with a guy she met in that same circle of friends. He also went to a different school and was friends with her friend’s boyfriend. He wasn’t overtly nice, nor was he funny or witty. There was just something about him, though. Maybe it was that he was a ginger? (She developed her attraction to red heads at an early age.) Maybe it was the fancy car he drove that made him seem so cool? Or maybe it was his disconnected attitude? His nonchalant, laisser faire, cool, collected, I-don’t-need-anyone, way of looking at things that drew her in. That old stand-by, “you want what you can’t have”, is probably a good way to describe her feelings for him.
It was the biggest crush she had had on anyone in her entire life, up to that point. There was definitely a connection between the two of them, but they only really saw each other at parties (i.e.: when they were drunk), so she never knew if the connection was real or just a drunken attraction. Then, her worst fear was realized when his eye landed on another one of her friends. She was blonde, big blue eyes, and was literally half her size. A naturally thin, funny, beautiful person. Why wouldn’t he fall for her? They eventually started dating and she was left being supportive on the outside, but heartbroken on the inside. She had never told her friend about her feelings towards this guy, so there was no reason for her friend to have any reservations about being with him. That crush was crushed.
Time went on and she just became used to the twinge of jealousy she felt every time she was around them. But she had accepted that he (or anyone, as far as she was concerned) would never see her that way. The only guys that liked her like that were guys she wasn’t attracted to. Then, on one of the many nights they all spent just driving around in their parents’ cars, that all changed. She was the DD that night, cruising around in her parents’ silver 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix. The night had wound down, and she dropped her friends off at home, one by one. By sheer coincidence, he was her last passenger. “I’m not tired, are you?” he asked her. She definitely wasn’t. They decided to find a parking lot to just sit and talk. The conversation itself is a blur now, so many years later, but they definitely landed on the topic of her feelings for him. He told her that he had felt a connection to her too. They both stared at each other in silence, the tension mounting. Then he kissed her. Not her first kiss, but definitely the best one she had had at that point. Before she knew it, her hand was rubbing him over his jeans. She could feel his arousal growing. He took it upon himself to unzip his pants, and she began giving her first hand job. She had never seen someone experience pleasure like that. She felt so powerful.
He was getting close. She was so inexperienced, she hadn’t had the foresight to think about where he would finish, or even what actually happened when a guy finished. “Are you going to take it?” he asked hastily. She immediately realized that he wanted her to swallow. She had never done that before and the thought of it, honestly, disgusted her. However, in her panic of worrying about getting splooge all over her parents’ car, she did what she had to do. At 17, she had zero BJ technique, so she didn’t know there was a way to have it just go right down to avoid getting a mouth full of baby juice. Mmm, salty.
When it was over, he couldn’t have made her feel more used if he had tried. He was cold and dismissive. Her heart sank and her stomach tied in knots. Not only had she just betrayed her best friend, but it was all for nothing. She no longer felt powerful. She no longer felt sexy. She felt even more like no one else would ever want her. All she was good for was for getting guys off. They didn’t see each other for a few weeks after that, but she saw her friend the next day. She couldn’t tell her. She compartmentalized the entire experience. What happened, happened. She couldn’t change that. She could only move forward with the experience she had gained and the humiliation she had suffered. Except, that wasn’t the only time it happened.
Over the next few months, every time they saw each other she was overwhelmed by the desire to relive that feeling of being wanted. He would make eye contact with her across a party, even while he was standing next to her friend, and the thought of their secret became an aphrodisiac. There were a few times her friend wasn’t around during group hang outs, and it was on those occasions they would repeat their indiscretion. A lot of the time, too, he would be the one driving her and their friends around in his fancy car. He would intentionally drop her off last so she could give him car head and then experience the all-too-familiar guilt trip again and again. Eventually, her feelings for him warped into what she thought was something real. By then, he and her friend had broken up, but not because of anything to do with her. Turns out, he didn’t save his ass holery for just her. And even though she knew how shitty he had treated her friend, and even though she knew how shitty he had treated her, he was all she knew about “love” and relationships.
It all came to a head at the end of yet another drunken night. She’s not sure how she ended up being the only girl among her group of guy friends, but they had ended up hanging out at a local shopping mall at like 1am. Eventually it came out that he had told all his friends about what had happened between them. Every person she was with in that moment knew her deepest, darkest secret and there was nothing she could do to take it back. She ended up telling him off in front of his boys, and had to take a cab home alone because he decided to leave and refused to drive her. And even after that, she longed for his attention. Years later, she would make the revelation that it was her experience with this dick head that lead her down a path of bad decisions and big mistakes…