MY FIRST BLOWJOB

I was a freshman in high school, and I was at a house party hosted by one of my fellow theater kids. I had been flirting with a junior named Matt. He was funny, wicked smart, and a fantastic actor. To this day, the smell of a certain stage make-up reminds me of him. Specifically, making out during rehearsals.

So. We were at this party. At one point, I was drinking red wine from the bottle and smoking a cigar. No lie. Who the hell did I think I was?! I’ve never smoked cigarettes, but I still smoke the occasional cigar. No much has changed, I guess. Matt and I were making out on a couch. It was late. It was definitely the hook-up segment of the evening. Instead of driving under the influence, we often all just crashed. We had a blanket and a big mushy couch. We were dry humping something fierce. Without him asking—no one has ever really needed to ask me for anything sexually—I pulled the blanket over my head as I crept down and unbuttoned his pants. I was dying to solve the blowjob mystery. Ok, so here’s where my size queendom really sprouted from (and solidified about a month later by the guy I lost my virginity to), Matt was packin a good size dong. I suppose you are thinking, how would a fourteen-year-old virgin know. Well, I could barely get it down my throat, again, a fourteen-year-old throat, but I’m tellin you, I had been opening my throat and downing alcohol since I was ten.

Anywho. I was down there, in classic me style; pretending to know what the fuck I was doing, but not really having a clue. It didn’t take long, and I swallowed his cum. It never, nor has it ever occurred to me to spit it out. He said I was good at it, and a nymph was born. Or given wings, anyway.

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