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My First Experiences With Oral Sex

January 24, 2010

The first time someone went down on me, I was about fifteen and we had broken into an abandoned house on the highway walking distance from my house. The summer after grade nine was what I used to refer to as the best summer of my life. To put it mildly, I packed all the hijinks a teenager could get themselves into in two short months. For instance that very night, I had snuck out of my house to hang out with the boy I liked and his friends. 

Sneaking out was exhilarating, but rather simple. I’d come home right around my curfew, say goodnight to my mom and go into my room. The moment I would get home she would go to bed. Once, I knew she was asleep, I’d put some pillows under my blanket, tiptoe out of the house and put my shoes on once I was outside. The trick was to come home before she woke up, something I forgot to do that very night. 

The guy I liked, his friend and I had broken into an abandoned house. The place was a mess, clearly, we were not the first kids to enter the premises. Broken plates littered the floor, some of them broken by our very hands. Our friend passed out on the living room couch while the boy and I snuck into one of the bedrooms. A dirty mattress laid bare on the floor, but I didn’t mind. Two firsts would happen that night. It was the first time someone would explore my cunt with their hands and with their mouth. It was great. It was exhilarating. He was slightly off the mark, but I didn’t mind. 

The first time I went down on someone was an entirely different situation. I was sixteen and my uncle had just died. Depressed and feeling a little self-destructive, I got rather drunk that night. One thing led to another and an older guy who I’d known for most of my life gave me a ride home. Parked in my mother’s drive way, he put the moves on me and I let him. I may have even enjoyed it a little, but my reaction was definitely fueled by the aforementioned sadness, self-destructiveness and copious amounts of alcohol. To be frank, I was WASTED. I was beyond wasted. I was drunk off my lovely ass. 

Now, sitting in this guy’s car, parked under my mother’s bedroom window, he placed his hand on the back of my head and pushed it towards his suddenly exposed cock. My body gave no resistance and while my lips were wrapped around his dick, my mind was still trying to process what the hell was happening. It might have been a slow realization, but at one point I did have gumption to stop and get the hell out of there. It was a sloppy exit, but I did manage to get inside my house. I somehow made my way upstairs, but instead of taking a left into my bedroom, I took a right and ended up in my brother’s bedroom (he no longer lived at home) and promptly feel asleep with my coat and my boots still on and my pants around my ankles. 

Even though, I hadn’t been forced to do anything and I certainly went along for the ride. It might be a shifting line, but my state of mind and drunkenness at the time left me with something akin to feeling wronged. I don’t know how else to put. What I can tell you is that from that night on, I have a pretty profound dislike for the other person involved and it wasn’t until I was eighteen that I would ever try giving head again and that was only after going out with the same guy for several months. I was pretty terrified, but there was definitely something missing in our sex life. In the end it was pretty amazing, but the negative feelings and fears I carried with me up until that moment were not in the least bit pleasant or productive.

What’s my point? Hell I don’t know, but let me tell you this, I had felt, for lack of a better word, abused, but I also felt that I had totally created the situation in the first place. From his point of view, I’m sure he didn’t experience it the same way at all and I guess that what I’m saying is that it’s OK to feel conflicted about something that has happened to you and that if something like that happens to you, you don’t have to be ashamed to express all those conflicting feelings and that eventually, as you grow up, you figure all this shit out. I guess the lesson I learned from all of this is sexual agency, wherein “sexual agency is defined as the ability to act according to your own needs, desires, and wishes in terms of sexual behavior, and sexual decision making.” An idea that is sorely lacking in most cases of sex education, especially since it should be the cornerstone of all sexual activity. 

11 Comments leave one →
  1. Wayne permalink
    January 24, 2010 6:11 pm

    I’ve never heard the term sexual agency before, but it pretty much sums it up in my opinion, my attitude is that ANYTHING sexual is perfectly acceptable as long as it is between two (Or More!) consenting adults who have the mental wherewithall to know what they are doing and all parties involved have the option to stop or change their mind at any time.

  2. January 24, 2010 6:21 pm

    Sexual Agency is a word (well two words) that I came to understand while reading the book Yes Means Yes, which is mostly about sexual abuse, basically, as you pointed out, it’s about more than NOT saying no, you also have to say YES (at the very least be able to say yes) to whatever sexual activity you’re engaged in. When it comes to abusive situations there has been such an emphasis on No Means No (which is great) that we forget to think about what it means to say yes and to really be engaged in what’s happening as opposed to just letting it happen, you know what I mean?

  3. Wayne permalink
    January 24, 2010 6:38 pm

    Absolutely! I’m as guilty as anyone of failing to keep that in mind at times. “Informed consent” as it is called in legal language is more than not saying No.

  4. January 25, 2010 2:10 pm

    “sexual agency is defined as the ability to act according to your own needs, desires, and wishes in terms of sexual behavior, and sexual decision making.” An idea that is sorely lacking in most cases of sex education”

    I’ve never heard this either, and it sounds like a great discussion to have with my daughter! I don’t trust sex ed – I take those matters into my own hands – and trying to give her not only safety tips, but emotional protection sounds good to me!

  5. January 25, 2010 2:17 pm

    Awesome! I didn’t know you had a kid…How old is she? You should give other parents tips about how to talk to their kids about this stuff. I’ve been thinking about writing a sex ed books for kids or even writing one for parents who want to talk to their kids about sex and stuff…i should start interviewing parents about how they approach the subject with their kids and what they find affective or difficult.

  6. January 25, 2010 5:22 pm


    It would be pretty hard for me to give any advice, because I think developing good communication starts waaaay earlier than the teenage years. You either have it, or you don’t. Most people don’t raise their children in an open enough environment for children to feel they can come to their parents with anything – so when the parents suddenly want to talk about sex, the kid is already squeamish or defensive.

    My daughter is 13. I didn’t suddenly sit down with her and say “this is what sex is all about.” It’s been a constant process, both through witnessing my life, and in the open way I’ve raised her from day one.

    I’d be interested in what other parents had to say, you should interview folks! I’ll write something up on my end that you can use for it, too 🙂

    Also, there’s this:


  7. Wayne permalink
    January 25, 2010 5:51 pm

    @ Erin

    Excellent points! I remember when I was in my early teens we were friends with a family from our church. They were recent “converts” as opposed to my ultra conservative parents who had been in that church for years. One day at their home the oldest daughter, who was maybe 12 at the time, came downstairs and in front of my Mom, sisters, and I told her Mom “Tom’s penis hurts, he thinks he has bladder infection again.” Quite a simple, straightforward statement, no? But my Mom was mortified! She packed us kids up as fast as she could and then gave us the old “sex is dirty unless it’s between husband and wife to make babies” sermon all the way home! And even when I was in my late 20s and my older sister was married and a parent it was ME who had to explain to her that a woman who is nursing a baby can still get pregnant again!

  8. January 25, 2010 10:41 pm

    @ Erin, “I think developing good communication starts waaaay earlier than the teenage years”…that’s exactly the kind of advice that so many people need to hear. I do want to start interviewing people. I’d like to buy a tape recorder though, I think it would be much more efficient that way, unless it’s over email, because then everything is already written down. Transcripts the easy way.

    @ Wayne, that’s an amazing story. I think it illustrates Erin’s point really clearly. Also, that’s the kind of story that I love to hear. Even if it illustrates how little people know about their own bodies or how negative it can be to live in a repressive environment, but that’s what makes us better people in the long run, learning from all these stories. I just think it’s great when people are willing to share them with one another.

  9. naturegirl1 permalink
    January 26, 2010 10:59 am

    Let me put this into perspective as far as I’m concerned. Here I am, pushing 53 yet I have never seen my father naked!!! What does that tell you about my upbringing? Is it any wonder I rebelled the way I did? I had virtually no warning about my periods from my mum, most of my information came via my older sister & even that was scant. As for sex education, well let’s just say trial & error was my route, but I did get some help from, of all people, one of my sister’s friends!
    Phil & I have tried very hard to be straight & open with our sons, the fact that the two of us are naturists will hopefully mean the boys will have had a good grounding as far as the human body is concerned & we have always answered all their questions, no matter how potentially troubling, with honesty & where appropriate, a bit of humour!
    As for the subject of this thread, I remember I was 15 the first time I felated a boy, I wasa willing participant & had seen photos of oral sex, but nothing could have prepared me for the moment the guy came!!! I gagged, spluttered & nearly vomitted! To this day, I can’t enjoy the feel & taste of semen in my mouth, not even Phil’s!
    As for being on the receiving end of oral, I think I was 14 at the time, the lad in question was somewhat older than me & I was worried that my bits might be smelly! They were certainly wet at the thought but my reluctance soon evaporated when I first felt his tongue…..oh boy did that send me into orbit! I was at his parents house & they were out for the evening & I think I fell in love with the lad, anyone who could give such pleasure was someone to be cherrished!

  10. January 27, 2010 1:24 pm

    I saw my Dad naked once, and it was by accident. I could have lived without. We didn’t really have an uptight home though. Just not a lot of nudity. Although I did see my mom naked quite a few times.

    I think that no matter how much information one person can have about sex, you still have to find your own way by trial and error, it’s kind of inevitable. Going in completely blind though has to be a lot scarier than having some info to back you up though.

    I was eighteen the first time I experienced “semen in my mouth” and maybe because the image I had of myself didn’t jive with the image of someone who didn’t like oral sex or that didn’t like swallowing, I went ahead and did it without even asking myself whether I liked it or not. I guess it was one of those weird status things or not wanting to fall into some imagined stereotypical category of girls who don’t like that kind of thing. The first time kind of made me nauseous, not because of the taste or texture, but because for some reason I kept imagining all these microscopic worm like things squirming down into my stomach. I think that might have had something to do with the fact that it was 7am and that I hadn’t slept in a while. Thank god, that feeling didn’t become customary.

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