Hoo boy! What a thread for me! Where shall I begin? :rolleyes:
I was making out with boys in seventh grade, boys who could drive so they had to be 16 at least. I thought this was how you got boys to like you, thanks to the wonderful relationship wisdom of my friend and self-acknowledged guru slut who I’ll call… Slut. Slut liked boys ever since I first met her (fourth grade) and perhaps even before then. She had me convinced that you do “things” with boys to get their attention. Well, hell yeah, you’ll get their attention if you’re sucking their face off and cough more. I never went beyond the make out stage at this point, being so young and scared but I still made out, sometimes in the back of cars. I wasn’t as bad as Slut was, that’s what I told myself anyway.
We lost touch for about a year because I went to a different school than she did. Through another seventh grade pal of mine, I got to experience a shoulder massage from her French step-father while said friend was in the shower. It was shoulder only but it might have gone farther if she hadn’t gotten out of the shower right then, he didn’t seem to mind my age or the fact that I did NOT know what exactly to do to make him stop. Saying no didn’t seem to help but I digress. Saved by the bell I was and I never spent another night at this girl’s house again.
In high school, freshman year, met up again with good ol’ Slut, who was dating a college guy (you “heard” me correctly) and she “did things” with him, major things. I wasn’t dating anyone at this point, had just ended a typical week long high school love affair/crush actually, and one afternoon, this guy of hers calls up while I’m doing homework over at her house. As she giggled and cooed over the phone, I did beginning Algebra and then she hands me the phone. Huh?
"Hey… ", said a male voice. Oh, it was “the boyfriend”. I said hi back and answered his questions, the last being this:
“So tell me… do you do what Slut does?”
“Ummm, yeah, I guess”, I mumbled blankly, thinking more about my Algebra homework than what he really meant. Well, he drove lickity-split over to “take us to the mall” as Slut described it. We piled into his two-door lil’ car (some Datsun thing) with me trapped in the beat seat and drove off. I was still in Algebra mode and was annoyed at this unannouced mall trip. We never made it to the mall. We made it to the empty field near my house for her to give him a BJ. For us to give him a BJ. Nice-looking as he was, this was her boyfriend, not mine and I was pissed when I realized why he had asked me what he’d asked. Well, he got his BJ but not by me. I was driven home, since it was so close and convenient, and didn’t talk to my pal for a month.
I made mistakes by having Slut as a friend, by listening to her lousy “advice” about guys. And in the situations I’ve posted so far, I never really took time out to think about what I was doing. I was young and had a stupid friend. My own boyfriend, when I finally met him later that year, was a gentleman for the most part and a virgin. We experienced sex together and we were together for 7 years. We were monogamous until I met a guy through work with whom I cheated on the boyfriend. I won’t defend my cheating, how can I? I was trying to end the first relationship but he wasn’t getting the hints. I cheated and was a huge, megabitch for doing it. I regret it, even if you think I don’t.
Dated the guy I cheated with for a year and got a big karmic kick in the ass from it (two very bad relationships from my cheat). This fellow I’ll call Seth and he was evil. Charming and evil, he cheated on me with one known girl, maybe more, for the entire year. Well, he fucked up my head enough for me to consider working in a Vegas brothel (my “I’m not giving in to Love ever again” phase) and having three one-night stands of which I won’t go into detail. One was a possible sugar daddy situation but fortunately, I pulled my head out of my ass and declined staying in such a weird affair. I was sort of using my head here. I thought it was better not to be in weird affair.
At this point, my male friend, who I will call #2 man, decided to tell me who loved me and into very bad relationship #2 I went. I was not using my head here, I needed comfort and that’s what I got, at first. He turned into Satan himself after a year and a half, and still I married the bastard. Before we got married, during one of our many splits… I slept with my ex (Seth) again to spite #2 man and ended up “owing” #2 man a threesome. His idea. I was stupid enough and emotionally bereft enough to go along with it, even choosing the female myself to be our partner. She was a tried and true lesbian and wouldn’t touch #2 man and he got mad. He dragged me out to a swinger’s club and we had our threesome with newly met woman. UGH! My brain wasn’t there at that point either!
In conclusion (you’re thinking, “Thank GOD!”, right?), I’d say I wasn’t thinking much of these situations through properly. I’ve made some bad decisions concerning sex, as you can see. Emotions can really mess with logic. Strong emotions coupled with fear of men and fear of rejection can put one in a world of shit sometimes. Sorry this post was super long. Hope this helps you out in some way.