I was 17. We had been dating for 6 months, petting like nobody’s business. I did love him. He was sweet and thoughtful and so I decided that we would take it to the next level. He bought me a negligee and candles. You know, all the fancy things a 17 year old would be impressed with. My parents weren’t home. The sound of Enya wafted through the scented air as we got slowly undressed. I was ready. This was it, right? This is what your supposed to do when you love someone. Share your vessel.
So I laid back and he touched every part of me, gently coaxing me to relax. He kissed my lips and then my neck. I was nervous but I wanted to give him my innocent love. He undressed, and there before me was the only (and largest) penis I had ever laid my eyes on. As an adult woman, I can say for certain that it was by far the biggest penis I have encountered since. My eyes grew wide. I didn’t know what to do with his man thing. I did not excite me like it seemed to excite the girls in the locker room. It was not beautiful or appealing in any way and now, NOW he was going to slide it into my vessel! Even after thinking this I had already committed myself to this night of “ecstasy” and my pride would not allow me to back out. Unbeknownst to me, my body read my mind. He laid himself on top of me and began to attempt to do his deed, but my door would not open. He thrust again, to be rejected at the gate. My body was a barren desert and the pyramid was closed. He wasn’t getting any vessel time. I tried to act like it was good. What the hell did I know about intercourse? I kissed him and told him to keep trying but after a solid 15 minutes my body held it’s defense. Dejected, he lifted himself off of me. To his credit he was kind and told me it was ok. He kissed me and held me.
We dated for a few months after that, but we never tried to have sex again. I couldn’t pin point why I was so put off by boys, because I was shown I was supposed to like them, so why couldn’t my body accept him? Now that I look back, I realized that I liked the touching, but I never liked that it was from a guy unless I was really in love with them. It meant something then and only then. But even then, my body knew way before I had a notion, that I had attractions elsewhere.
Somewhere around the same time I saw the perfectly shaped bare breasts of a foreign exchange student at my home when we were hosting a pool party. While most of the girls were solid with African roots and sleek cocoa skin (and amazingly gorgeous as well), this girl was a golden bronze with features that were perfectly mixed. Her eyes held a scintillating blue gaze, her nose was flat but ended with a button tip, her pouty lips were a glossy pink and she smelled of a sweet coconut lotion that wafted through her long sun kissed chestnut hair. All the girls were changing into their bathing suits. The very open and naked foreigners from Martinique commented on her lovely breasts. Curious and called to attention, my eyes fell upon them, I seared the vision into my brain, my cheeks burned a deep rose and I scurried out of the room, afraid to be found out. My body reacted immediately. I was now acknowledging a small part of the big picture, but it would take many years for that picture to get into focus.
So here I am today with a pretty clear big picture. I’m looking to fill my vessel in an entirely different way. I just hope that my husband finds the heart that my teenage sweetheart had. His heart is big and I know he wants me to be happy. I too know he would have run, red faced out of that room, so hopefully we will find some common ground through this. If not, I will either be laying in bed acting and sounding like I’m watching fireworks for the rest of my life…ooooh…..ahhhhhh…..oooooh or I will find myself not so afraid to be looking at a beautiful woman before me. Maybe now that I have his support and I’m seeing clearer, I won’t run.