{"id":43,"date":"2009-06-07T13:30:26","date_gmt":"2009-06-07T20:30:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/?p=43"},"modified":"2025-11-09T10:35:00","modified_gmt":"2025-11-09T17:35:00","slug":"my-first-orgasm","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/?p=43","title":{"rendered":"My First Orgasm"},"content":{"rendered":"

I love this story for many reasons\u2026it\u2019s so me and so eighties.\u00a0 <\/span>I call it my first Orgasm but that\u2019s a little misleading.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019ve been masturbating since a child so I\u2019ve had orgasms\u2026trillions of orgasms\u2026our national debt in pennies worth of orgasms.\u00a0 <\/span>What I\u2019m talking about was the first orgasm I had through sex with a guy.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Now don\u2019t get me wrong, when I started having sex I was horny and hot and loving most all of it.\u00a0 <\/span>But (and isn\u2019t there always a butt!) I wasn\u2019t really having an orgasm like I thought I would.\u00a0 <\/span>At least it wasn\u2019t like the orgasms I had with just myself.\u00a0 <\/span>I remember the first thoughts that went through my mind when I lost my virginity.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTHIS is sex?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It was such a letdown.\u00a0 <\/span>All the hype in the books and on television you were convinced it was going to be better than what you\u2019ve been doing to yourself for so long.\u00a0 <\/span>And when it\u2019s wasn\u2019t, well it was so disappointing.\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Did that stop me from having sex?\u00a0 <\/span>No\u2026sex was my power and it wasn\u2019t bad really I just wasn\u2019t as good as I could do to myself.\u00a0 <\/span>I just figured it was what it was.\u00a0 <\/span>And I never assumed it was the guy.\u00a0 <\/span>It wasn\u2019t painful or unpleasant it was more like lots of foreplay without that big bang.\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Then circumstances happened to change my body.\u00a0 <\/span>I got pregnant and had an abortion.\u00a0 <\/span>Moral and ethical debates I leave aside for another blog.\u00a0 <\/span>The point is being pregnant changed my body.\u00a0 <\/span>I didn\u2019t notice it until way after the fact was over and I was dealing with the aftermath.\u00a0 <\/span>I was hippier.\u00a0 <\/span>My hips had always been way slim and now I had a little something (?) there that filled out my silhouette much nicer.\u00a0 <\/span>I looked better in clothes, yeah!<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And then I had sex for the first time after\u2026and wow.\u00a0 <\/span>It was like being pregnant grew in my \u2018G\u2019 spot or something.\u00a0 <\/span>The pleasure was so much different and so much more I remember thinking\u2026\u201dNow THIS is sex!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And to truly understand why this is so me you have to hear the whole story of the Nebraska Army boy, fresh out of basic, who gave it to me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It was the first Christmas home from college at University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa.\u00a0 <\/span>We couldn\u2019t afford much so taking the two day bus ride home was to be expected.\u00a0 <\/span>After taking the two day ride there I felt I was a veteran of bus riding.\u00a0 <\/span>I was leaving the horrid snow and going home for weeks.\u00a0 <\/span>Yea!!\u00a0 <\/span>So I was in a good mood.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Whenever the bus stopped at a station you watched who got on in hopes something scary wouldn\u2019t sit next to you.\u00a0 <\/span>It was either that or you pretend you were asleep on the two seats.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019d done that before but this time I was watching.\u00a0 <\/span>And who do I see walk on but this tall, possibly blonde\u2026hard to tell with the buzz cut, young man in Army dress greens.\u00a0 <\/span>He caught my eye and I might have smiled before I looked away because he asks if the seat next to me was taken.\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I heartily assure him it wasn’t and he sits down.\u00a0 <\/span>And we begin hours of long conversation about each other.\u00a0 <\/span>I tell him all about how I\u2019m from Southern California (my most impressive fact to these Midwest boys\u2026remember\u00a0popular at time was the\u00a0David Lee Roth song about California Girls!)\u00a0 <\/span>and he tells me all about how he\u2019s got leave for the holidays and he just got out of basic training.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He looks incredibly handsome in his uniform and we are flirting like crazy.\u00a0 <\/span>I have no idea how long we\u2019d been talking when he says, \u201cYou know what I want to do right now?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m all into his enthusiasm so I say, \u201cI have no idea!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI want to kiss you,\u201d he states and I just stare at him in shock.\u00a0 <\/span>I seriously hadn\u2019t expected it.\u00a0 <\/span>But I was more than able to live up to that challenge.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019d like to think I said something witty like, \u201cWell then I think you should\u201d but I think I just smiled and said, \u201cWell okay.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So now we are on the bus making out.\u00a0 <\/span>It\u2019s about nine or ten at night and the bus lights are off and we are hot and heavy into it.\u00a0 <\/span>But I am so not going to do it on a full bus and he\u2019s trying to come up with solutions.\u00a0 <\/span>He\u2019s getting off in Lincoln Nebraska and he\u2019s telling me to get off the bus with him, that I can catch the next one with the same ticket in the morning.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Well, this veteran (ha!) thinks he\u2019s lying (never mind the idea he could be a serial killer\u2026that never entered my brain [that\u2019s what we did in the 80\u2019s, assumed bad was just never going to happen to us]) so I tell him to confirm this is true with the bus driver.\u00a0 <\/span>Which he does, and comes back to tell me he\u2019ll get a room (motel room) when we get off the bus.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So we get off the bus in Lincoln, Nebraska around midnight or so and I make the driver take off my two bags.\u00a0 <\/span>I have a huge suitcase the size of which airlines would never accept today and a steamer trunk.\u00a0 <\/span>My paramour has his green army duffel.\u00a0 <\/span>He hauls his duffel and my trunk (I am so turned on by how strong that looks) through the snow to a motel across the street from the bus station and pounds on the door to wake up the owners to check in.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019m standing on the street, heartily embarrassed we had to wake these people up but he gets us checked into a room.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Where we finally get to finish everything we started on the bus.\u00a0 <\/span>And wow.\u00a0 <\/span>I thought it was me being on top for the first time, but then it was still Oh Wow the second time and again in the morning.\u00a0 <\/span>After the Oh Wow in the morning he tells me he\u2019s going to call his mom from the hotel room and tell them he\u2019s arrived.\u00a0 <\/span>And he asks me if I want to meet his parents for breakfast. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGod No!\u201d was out of my mouth so fast even I was surprised.\u00a0 <\/span>He was genuinely hurt I didn\u2019t want to meet his parents but that was a scene I wasn\u2019t going to experience.\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cHi, I\u2019m the slut your son just met.\u201d\u00a0 <\/span>No thank you.\u00a0 <\/span>I gave him my phone number at my sorority house and told him I\u2019d be back at college in a couple of weeks.\u00a0 <\/span>I didn\u2019t give him my parents\u2019 number in California probably because I didn\u2019t want \u201cHi, I\u2019m the guy your slut daughter slept with on the bus ride home.\u201d\u00a0 <\/span>He said he could only call on Sundays because that\u2019s when he was off.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He walked me to the bus, hauling my stuff and told me he\u2019d wait with me.\u00a0 <\/span>I convinced him to go off to spend time with his family (after all I had a book I could happily read) and after some heavy making out he left.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I was so content for the rest of the ride home I didn\u2019t even care about the couple behind me who didn\u2019t have a problem having sex on a bus.\u00a0 <\/span>I didn\u2019t hear anything with my headphones on and the only reason I knew they were screwing is because my reclined seat had been rhythmically pushed upright! \u00a0<\/span>I did peek thru the seats and make a note of the position they used\u2026future reference, ya know.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And what happened to my Nebraska Army private?\u00a0 <\/span>I can\u2019t for the life of me remember his name.\u00a0 <\/span>But when I got back to college he called.\u00a0 <\/span>He called me on Sunday from a pay phone in the barracks and talked my ear off for an hour.\u00a0 <\/span>Then he called on Wednesday.\u00a0 <\/span>Then again on Friday and Sunday and Monday and Thursday and Saturday.\u00a0 <\/span>By the time a Sunday would roll around I had barely anything left to talk about and I swear he was going to break that pay phone with the amount of quarters he was putting in.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He sent me a red T-shirt with some sort of snoopy playing football decal on it and I slept in that shirt for years until it fell apart.\u00a0 <\/span>We had a phone relationship for weeks until one day he told me he\u2019d gotten orders and was being transferred.\u00a0 <\/span>But, he said, he\u2019d planned to go AWOL and see me before he reported.\u00a0 <\/span>Well the girl in me was incredibly flattered but the compulsive rule-obeyer tried to talk him out of it.\u00a0 <\/span>And I never heard from him again.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I always wondered what had happened of course.\u00a0 <\/span>Did he get caught and thrown into the brig?\u00a0 <\/span>Did he come to his senses, meet someone else and walk away from our one night?\u00a0 <\/span>Did he God forbid, die some horrible death in the Army?\u00a0 <\/span>Did he try but get lost, or lose my number somewhere and is still wondering what might have happened between us?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I personally like that last one.\u00a0 <\/span>It was fun to imagine the romantic possibilities.\u00a0 <\/span>Now, in my forties I would imagine him all aged and maybe he\u2019s still good looking with a bit of a pot belly.\u00a0 <\/span>But worst of all he probably wouldn\u2019t be able to give me the Oh Wow\u2019s that he did in his sexual prime and that my friends would be the biggest shame of all. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I love this story for many reasons\u2026it\u2019s so me and so eighties.\u00a0 I call it my first Orgasm but that\u2019s a little misleading.\u00a0 I\u2019ve been masturbating since a child so I\u2019ve had orgasms\u2026trillions of orgasms\u2026our national debt in pennies worth … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-43","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-naughty-stuff"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=43"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":49,"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43\/revisions\/49"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=43"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=43"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.heatherbarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=43"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}