My friends are complaining that my blogs don’t sound like the bold, fun and saucy me they were hoping for. Well, I’ll get to that…heeheehee…but I should start slow as I feel my way. And to that end I’ve divided everything into categories which don’t appear until I fill them so I’m filling them slowly.
Saucy me, who loves to shock people with my sexuality, will come out as I brave this new public medium. (Fitting it’s a Sunday!) And to that end a little history…
I look back on my dating experiences and wonder how they shaped me into choosing the man I married. Was I already predisposed to a certain type? Or was my type being shaped as I randomly dated?
My first crush was at summer camp. Jim Crites. I was 9 and he probably was too or near enough. But it was the hot, built, darkly handsome counselor who took me fishing that was my first lust. I think he was babysitting me since I had to stay in between the two camp groups because my Aunt and soon to be Uncle had arranged for me to go to this camp while they were counselors also. I’ll blog about that first trip later.
I look back at that and remember lusting after him, feeling wonderfully special I was standing in freezing cold water while we fished. And yet knowing the folly of lusting after someone so older, I consciously tossed my feelings over the side as unrealistic, hence settling for the 9 year old Jim Crites.
My first kiss was a geek in the back seat of my parents’ station wagon. I quickly escalated it into hot make out sessions in the back back part of my parents’ station wagon. But we were better friends than boyfriend girlfriend so it went nowhere, probably at my decision.
I lost my virginity to a guy four years older than me who picked me up at the Baskin Robbins where I worked. I was 17 and I don’t think he realized that when he popped my cherry. His name was Bryan and I can’t remember his last name. Plain brown eyes and light brown kind-of frizzy curly hair. He drove a motorcycle and told me I was a natural on it, complaining some girls had no idea how to ride as a passenger on a bike. A compliment I both treasured because I wanted to believe it and doubted because people will tell you what they think you want to hear.
We dated for a couple of months and I broke it off. I wasn’t in love so why continue to date?
My first love was Bryan’s friend that he’d introduced me to. Paul Kinney was hot with short cropped sandy blonde reddish hair. And I was just this little 18 year old who wanted to have sex with him. Well, I wanted him to fall in love with me but I was willing to settle for sex because the sex was magnificent. What I could do now with that 22 year old man is glorious to think about. What little inexperienced me did isn’t so much embarrassing as sad. I tried to dance seductively and failed so badly he told me to stop. That hurt…ouch. But it was a good deterrent for any thoughts of being a stripper!
Why was he my first love if he wasn’t in love with me? Because when I left for college I knew there was no us, wrote him off and moved on. But when I came home for the summer he showed up at my parents house one day…out of the blue…on the chance I would be there. And suddenly I was special…he’d chosen me. And that did it.
He was Irish American, worked as a carpenter (I’m not a construction worker, I’m a carpenter, he’d always declare when I teased him) and at one time got a Springer spaniel puppy. (Jeremiah was the cutest, smartest dog ever…I think he ran away or got hit by a car…so sad.) And Paul kept me as a booty call for six years…a call I was happy to answer. He was so hot and so well packaged…lubricant was almost a necessity every time.
My first orgasm was a Midwestern boy in the Army. And that story will make this blog way too long! So I’ll save it for another.
I ended up marrying an Irish man, son of a carpenter, who was in the Army and named Brian Kinney. I now own a Springer Spaniel and I’ve got a thing for guys on motorcycles. So the question is did who I date shape what I like or was I born with that and drawn to it?