So, my friend at work gave me all three Shades of Grey books to read. I hear they are pretty racy, so, you know, why not, let's see what all the hub-bub is about. I started reading the first book last night, it was the quietest two hours my husband and I have ever spent together. I'm sure Will enjoyed me not complaining about him being on the computer or watching TV.
In the two hours I spent, I read to page 122.
(I'm going to tell you right now, this is about to be more of an over-share than you are prepared for. It's not too late to stop reading. This is your last warning.)
By page 122, the first sexual encounter was out of the way. Now, I don't want to ruin it for anyone, but the girl is a virgin. The encounter described is nothing short of magical. I mean, that is why we read this stuff, right? Still, I couldn't help but think that it was the biggest bunch of crap I had ever heard. No one has three orgasms their first time. No one does it once and then says, "oh yeah, let's do that again, RIGHT NOW!" No one. And, if I'm wrong, I'd actually like to hear from that person.
Let me tell you how it went down for me for my first time. I thought this guy, Dirtbag, was all that and a bag of chips. He was funny, kinda cute, smart (and later would find out, a player and a liar, but I digress). We played couch gymnastics and while he wasn't very good at gymnastics, I thought, why not? For those of you unfamiliar with couch gymnastics, that is when you make-out on the couch until your head is down in the crease between the arm rest and the cushion, he's on top, you are kind of upside-down, your shirt is kind of off, your bra has been pushed up on one side exposing your boob, and now cutting it in half and your pants may or may not be unbuttoned. In fact, you're stuck...in the couch... and you look like you may have just been a victim of a crime.
Anyway, after couch gymnastics going so well, it was clearly time to take it to the next level on the next date. I was an adult when this happened. I should have had better judgement, but I wanted to be kicked off The Virgin Islands in a bad way and, I guess, Dirtbag would have to do.
It was the perfect set up, he puts the movie Open Range on and we are allegedly just going to watch the movie. First, the movie is boring as hell. Second, he starts in on couch gymnastics. Things are progressing, turns out, I'm kind of a slut. The underwear are off and he holds them up and says, "wow, these are smaller than I would expect." Yep, he just called me fat. I should have kicked him in the nuts. Refer back to the fact that I wanted off the island. So, then, I'm all naked and he informs me he needs condoms, he has to run to the store. Awkward. I just sit there for a second and think, this is stupid and get dressed part way. Dirtbag returns with his condoms and we move to the bedroom. We get naked and he is completely hairless, even more so than one of those hairless cats. It's Creepy. He asks me if I want to touch his thing-a-ma-bob. Nope, not really. I keep waiting for that thing called "foreplay" to happen. A quick version of wax-on, wax-off on my boobs and we were ready for the big show. I know how to pick them.
We are finally, "doing it" and he says, "oh no, my [thing-a-mabob] just went numb." Now, I'm not a trained professional, but I don't think this is normal. He says he is allergic to the lube on the condom and so leaves to go to the store to get different ones. I'm not making this up. Seriously.
He returns and again, skip the foreplay and head for the main event (putting the peg in the hole). He's going along and I'm thinking, why exactly did I want to leave the island? THIS is it? Then, in mid coitus he stops and says serious into my face, "Don't even think about faking it....are you close?" Close to what? Boredom? So, he finally finishes without the big finale, damn condoms anyhow. He does the complimentary cuddle and tells me it's time for me to go. This is where I got even, by accident.
Turns out, my first time was as close to an animal sacrifice as you could get. Blood everywhere. He is freaking out because he is a total neat freak and it is all over the sheets and has soaked through to the mattress. The sheets are whipped off, I'm ushered to the shower and he attempts to clean up. Now, it's on his towels, it's everywhere. Woops.
I get myself together and go home. He calls me in a panic when I get home. "Are you home, did you make it okay? What took you so long?" I said, "yes, I'm home. What is the big deal?" He said, "There is so much blood here that if anything happened to you, everyone would think I killed you at my apartment!" This was the last time I saw him. Thanks for the ride off the island, Dirtbag.
It's romantic stories like this that make me call bullshit on 50 Shades of Grey and the story about how one girl got her grove on three times on the first night. Where was my hot millionaire? I got the lying Dirtbag. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to keep reading the book, I'm just saying, who makes this crap up? A woman that had sex with Dirtbag the first time, that's who, so I guess fantasy isn't all that bad.
(disclaimer: this story is not about Will, just in case anyone was wondering. I got much smarter after Dirtbag).
In the two hours I spent, I read to page 122.
(I'm going to tell you right now, this is about to be more of an over-share than you are prepared for. It's not too late to stop reading. This is your last warning.)
Let me tell you how it went down for me for my first time. I thought this guy, Dirtbag, was all that and a bag of chips. He was funny, kinda cute, smart (and later would find out, a player and a liar, but I digress). We played couch gymnastics and while he wasn't very good at gymnastics, I thought, why not? For those of you unfamiliar with couch gymnastics, that is when you make-out on the couch until your head is down in the crease between the arm rest and the cushion, he's on top, you are kind of upside-down, your shirt is kind of off, your bra has been pushed up on one side exposing your boob, and now cutting it in half and your pants may or may not be unbuttoned. In fact, you're stuck...in the couch... and you look like you may have just been a victim of a crime.
Anyway, after couch gymnastics going so well, it was clearly time to take it to the next level on the next date. I was an adult when this happened. I should have had better judgement, but I wanted to be kicked off The Virgin Islands in a bad way and, I guess, Dirtbag would have to do.
It was the perfect set up, he puts the movie Open Range on and we are allegedly just going to watch the movie. First, the movie is boring as hell. Second, he starts in on couch gymnastics. Things are progressing, turns out, I'm kind of a slut. The underwear are off and he holds them up and says, "wow, these are smaller than I would expect." Yep, he just called me fat. I should have kicked him in the nuts. Refer back to the fact that I wanted off the island. So, then, I'm all naked and he informs me he needs condoms, he has to run to the store. Awkward. I just sit there for a second and think, this is stupid and get dressed part way. Dirtbag returns with his condoms and we move to the bedroom. We get naked and he is completely hairless, even more so than one of those hairless cats. It's Creepy. He asks me if I want to touch his thing-a-ma-bob. Nope, not really. I keep waiting for that thing called "foreplay" to happen. A quick version of wax-on, wax-off on my boobs and we were ready for the big show. I know how to pick them.
We are finally, "doing it" and he says, "oh no, my [thing-a-mabob] just went numb." Now, I'm not a trained professional, but I don't think this is normal. He says he is allergic to the lube on the condom and so leaves to go to the store to get different ones. I'm not making this up. Seriously.
He returns and again, skip the foreplay and head for the main event (putting the peg in the hole). He's going along and I'm thinking, why exactly did I want to leave the island? THIS is it? Then, in mid coitus he stops and says serious into my face, "Don't even think about faking it....are you close?" Close to what? Boredom? So, he finally finishes without the big finale, damn condoms anyhow. He does the complimentary cuddle and tells me it's time for me to go. This is where I got even, by accident.
Turns out, my first time was as close to an animal sacrifice as you could get. Blood everywhere. He is freaking out because he is a total neat freak and it is all over the sheets and has soaked through to the mattress. The sheets are whipped off, I'm ushered to the shower and he attempts to clean up. Now, it's on his towels, it's everywhere. Woops.
I get myself together and go home. He calls me in a panic when I get home. "Are you home, did you make it okay? What took you so long?" I said, "yes, I'm home. What is the big deal?" He said, "There is so much blood here that if anything happened to you, everyone would think I killed you at my apartment!" This was the last time I saw him. Thanks for the ride off the island, Dirtbag.
It's romantic stories like this that make me call bullshit on 50 Shades of Grey and the story about how one girl got her grove on three times on the first night. Where was my hot millionaire? I got the lying Dirtbag. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to keep reading the book, I'm just saying, who makes this crap up? A woman that had sex with Dirtbag the first time, that's who, so I guess fantasy isn't all that bad.
(disclaimer: this story is not about Will, just in case anyone was wondering. I got much smarter after Dirtbag).
Not that you need to hear this but your first time is pretty typical. My own wasn't much better.
ReplyDeleteThat's what I mean! LOL. Where was our Christian Grey? Although, so far, I don't know all the deets, but maybe I wouldn't have wanted to! HA
ReplyDeleteYou are such a riot! Love the disclaimer of Will at the end
ReplyDeleteI was just exposed to your blog for the first time and this has to be the funniest (most honest) post I have ever read. Thank you for making me laugh and providing so many flashbacks!
ReplyDeleteI like how you say you were "exposed" to it. LOL Thanks for reading!
ReplyDelete