My First Time 2.0 #9

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Poster for the second edition of Culture Custodian's yearly feature, My First Time

Wine was chilling in the cooler, Take Care was playing in the background and 20 year old me was ready to get this show on the road. Sex, I mean. I was finally ready to have ‘the sex’. I say finally because pre 2012, I didn’t think I would ever be ready to have sex.

I love to read, so I’d read all the books; “the tall dark handsome man walked into the room and Isabelle just knew he was the one- he was the one she was saving herself for” Garbage like that. Usually about the one, usually about love. Problem is I didn’t believe in love. And good girls only had sex because they were in love. That’s what the books all said.

But I digress.

Take Care is playing, he kisses my neck and assures me of his love for me. I cringe a little. When does this get good? There’s an attempt at head, some more awkward kissing (was that a lick?). He gets out his condom, fumbles with it for a while, puts it on.

“Oh you’re mad cuz nobody ever did it like meee”

It’s so painful. I almost kick him off and tell him I’ve changed my mind. He sees my discomfort and gets alarmed. He asks if he should stop.

Now I remember why I chose him. The nicest guy. I assure him I’m fine, I really want to do this.

He’s trying. Really trying. I can tell. He’s panting heavily, thrusting…


Drake doesn’t even get to tell us our neighbours will respect us. I go into the bathroom, I’m still in pain. I start to wash away the blood and I catch my reflection in the mirror. Was that it? Sadness, Annoyance, Bitterness sweep over me one after the other. Then I smile. I’m a big girl now. I manage a laugh.

“Are you okay baby?”

He’s on the other side of the door.


I come out of the bathroom feeling a little better.

“Did you enjoy it?”

I want to punch him in the throat.

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