Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
New Experiences - 1. Firsts (2023 Edition)
Firsts
Nervous
My heart slams into my ribs
A hummingbird caged by my ribs
Starving, frightened, begging to escape
It kinda hurts
But then,
It kinda feels good too
Which I guess is just like everything else
There are so many people here flowing in and out
Like a river that can’t make up it’s mind
Music (screams) pours out into the street
Something fast and loud
Two men walk out holding hands
A couple makes out in the alley
So open, So obvious
It’s strange here.
I stand stock still a second
Trying unsuccessfully to summon confidence
When I’m as ready as I’m able to pretend to be
I take a step
Push my way into the river
Follow the stream through the doors
The room smells of artificial sweetness
Expensive cologne masking sweat and booze
The music overwhelms
Pulsing, drowning out everything
So that you can’t hear yourself think
I guess no one comes here to think anyway
I elbow my way through the throng
Spot an empty space near the back
Arms and legs swing in relative time
Already I’m sweating
A dark corner, a couch
A gaudy shade of orange
I sink into the pleather surprised by it’s comfort,
Pick at a crack in it’s plastic coating
I sit there for a few moments, take it in
Not really my kind of place
An interesting experience, maybe
Already I want to leave
A man steps out of the crowd
He stops, scans the room
His eyes lock on me
And he smiles
That smile kicks my nerves back into overdrive
There’s something predatory about it, about him
His teeth are too sharp I think
His eyes too bright
He starts walking my direction
Slipping through the crowd with a practiced stride
I shift my weight - the couch suddenly isn’t so comfortable
He makes it to me and sits too close
“Hey.” His voice cuts through the noise
“Hi…” Mine is so quiet that even I can barely hear it
He smiles again and I shiver
With fear and maybe something else
His hand is moving slowly
Now it’s on my knee
I’m lost, no idea how to react
Should I push it off, or pretend it’s not there?
I turn to him and start to say something,
My lips barely open before his close them again
He kisses me ferociously, hungry
I don’t know where to put my hands
I lean back into the ugly couch, he leans with me
The pleather creaks as he forces me down into it
I think about pushing him away
But it feels strangely good
His hands move up and down,
Tracing my profile
One slips under my shirt, slides up my stomach
Follows the lines there
I finally close my eyes, feel what there is to feel
And there’s so much
His lips
His hands
I don’t know how long we sit there
When we come up for air
He says something I can’t make out
Over the music and my own heartbeat
“What?” I yell
“You want to get out of here?”
Do I?
I’ve seen enough tv to know what that means.
This man has to be at least a decade older than me
Probably more
And I know exactly what he wants
I want it too, but should I?
“I… of course I do.”
This makes him smile again
Wings beat rapid against fragile ribs
And he kisses me again
He grabs my hand, guides me through the writhing mass
In a way that says he’s done this a million times
And I know he has
A million times, a million boys just like me
Is this a good idea?
I know what I feel
And I know what I want
I’ve always known
But is this safe?
Is it right?
Does it matter?
I know I want this, but do I want it this way?
We flow out the doors
He guides me to a blue jeep parked a block away
I climb in, sink into the bucket seat
It smells clean.
That’s a good sign right?
He cleans his car
That must mean he’s safe.
No stupid, all it means is that he cleans his car
He starts it up
Some pop song plays on the radio
He turns it off with a quick flick of the dial
And we pull away in silence
Everything’s so quiet now
Or maybe it’s just everything seems quieter
Without other people watching
When it’s just the two of us
His eyes are on the road
One hand back on my knee
The contact burns my skin, it hurts
But then it feels good too
He pulls into a nondescript parking lot
In front of a red brick apartment building
He climbs out first, opens my door for me
Chivalry, it would seem, hasn’t died yet
Once I’m out of the jeep he slams the door
The beep of the automatic locks
Echos over the empty lot
And I have one last second thought
I shake it off
It’s not like I can just end this now
I’ve gone too far
This is going to happen
I follow him into the small lobby
Just a gray room with some mailboxes on the wall
He calls the elevator, I watch the numbers change
They count down and I’m struck by a memory
I’m six or eight or twelve
Sitting in the nurse’s office
I’ve had another panic attack
She tells me “Just count down from ten for me”
Breathe in
ten nine eight seven six five
Breathe out
Four three two one
We step into the elevator
He puts his key into the slot, presses the sixth floor
And I feel that odd sensation of
Movement when everything looks still
Numbers again, counting up from one
The light in here makes my skin seem pale
He turns to me, that smile again
His too-blue eyes glinting
I’m suddenly reminded of my cat
When she comes home with a dead something
Self satisfied and carnivorous
Teeth too sharp
Then he kisses me again and the image melts away
Replaced with the hunger
That never really goes away
I want him. Now.
The elevator dings, the doors slide open
He drags me down the hall
Door number 608
He flips through his keys
The door unlocks with a clunk
Like old doors do
And he swings it open
And we kiss our way through the apartment
He guides me to the bedroom with his body
And maybe a little too roughly he shoves me onto the bed
He slides off his shirt
He’s beautiful
He climbs into the bed,
Lays his entire weight on top of me
Between his lips and his body
I can barely breathe
I push up on him
Try and take some of the pressure off
He presses harder,
Steals what little air is left in my lungs
Finally he rolls off of me
Opens the top drawer of the table by his bed
The wrapper glints in the dim light
Again, I want to run
Instead I lean in and taste him
His chest tastes like salt or maybe earth
And he smells like cut grass
I try and drown fear with desire
Seconds feel like minutes
Anticipation worse than the end results
He takes me roughly, and it hurts
But it feels so, so good
In the end it all takes maybe ten minutes
Lying abandoned in his bed I listen to the hiss of the shower
I am no longer a virgin
And I don’t know how to feel
On the inside that is
Physically I’m sore and sorta… gooey
And that’s strange
But not as strange as the way that I don’t feel any different
I thought after this
That I would be a different person
But I just feel like me
Weird
He offers to drive me home
But I just have him drop me off back at the club
It’s not till I’ve walked halfway home that I realize
I never asked his name.
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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