Number One.

Last night I thought about the first time I had sex. I've heard horror stories from a lot of people about their first time, that they hated it, but mine was actually just dandy. Now, I don't remember the actual date, but it was the night before my first day of ninth grade. I know, I know...a mere 14 years old. BUT, he had been my boyfriend the since 8th grade- where I snagged him at a school dance. Made him dance with me, asked him to be my boyfriend after a couple songs...quite the saucy 13 year old I had been. Anyhow, entering high school was obviously a huge deal...and the fact that I lost the ol' V-card the night before, makes me think it was his way of staking claim. It was about 10 minutes of hair petting and him asking if I was ok, and tons of handholding. All of this makes him sound like some weird 42 year old man, but he was the same age as me. Even now, holding hands is one of my favorite things to do, strange now that I think about it. Anyways, the lair of love was the bottom half of a set of bunk beds, complete with typical boy-ish sheets. I used to know the characters, but perhaps I blocked it from memory...being that I got blood on them. Then I walked home, bow-legged, because that's what I thought I was suppose to do. First sign of being too young to fornicate right there. And too much HBO. So there it was, hymen smashed out like the kool-aid man through a wall, a complete life altering moment, and I never got off my back. Number One stayed mine all the way till grade 10, and is still the only boy who ever broke my heart and my hymen.
I think I'm thankful for a decent first time, one that neither turned me off from sex, or made me to be such a fiend that I nailed everyone in site. At 32, the number of wieners in my repertoire remains in the single digits, a healthy number 9 to be exact. That's not to say though, that each one was a shining moment...jesus.

BOOM!