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My first boyfriend out of high school. I was not very attracted to him when we met at freshman orientation, but we laughed and talked easily together, and we started dating almost immediately. I was raised in a very religious house and had worn a promise ring for several years, so it took me six months to decide I wanted to have sex. When we finally did, it was underwhelming and pretty much stayed that way. Our relationship lasted for three and a half years and we did an enormous amount of experimenting in bed, but I never really enjoyed myself. It should have been exciting, but he rarely made me come (not for lack of trying) and I realize now there just weren’t any sparks. For the entirety of our relationship, I was convinced I didn’t really like sex.
Nate was my first love. We had been friends for years and years and I hadn’t gotten over him by the time I started dating Michael. Throughout high school there had been the most unbelievable sexual tension between us, but I was too holy to ever do anything about it. When my relationship with Michael started to go sour, Nate was there for me and I decided to have sex with him during a trip home. It was absolutely terrible. All of the chemistry we thought we had dissolved into an awkward hour of apologizing and avoiding eye contact. I still feel terribly ashamed of my choice to sleep with him and as a result can only ever see him as a friend.
Almost immediately after Michael and I broke up, I went on an OKCupid date with Ben out of sheer loneliness. For the first time in my life, a full three years after losing my virginity, I enjoyed sex. A lot. He had a fantastically short turn around time and we would have kinky, sweaty, athletic sex three and four times in an evening before passing out in a delirious lusty stupor. He could not keep his hands off me and loved to make me come. He had this way of fucking me that was both rough and affectionate. I could not get enough. We kept in touch after I moved to Istanbul, and he decided to come for a visit. The sex continued to be amazing (my neighbors complained about the noise – sorry guys) but everything else fell apart. He begged me to go back to New York and be with him, and when I said I wouldn’t he got borderline violent and slept on my couch for the last three nights of his visit. After he left I sent him an email asking him not to contact me again. He responded with a goopy, pathetic, love-sodden apology, but otherwise obliged.
Alp was the first man I intentionally set out to seduce. He was a receptionist at the English school I was teaching for and spoke with a completely charming English/Turkish accent. I had to have it. I invited him over on our day off and, after a really fun Star Wars marathon, I got him into bed. “Disappointing” is the kindest word I can use to describe the sex. We hooked up three times before he told me he had started seeing his ex again. I was not sad.
I went to a club with a co-worker, the student that he was sleeping with (we taught adults), and her friend Fatih. He was older than me, I’m guessing maybe thirty, and spoke no English. I wasn’t very attracted to him but I was drunk and his house was way closer to the club than mine. I spent the night wishing I had just gone home while he fumbled around on top of me and called me “my beyootifool darlink.” I felt disgusting and ashamed for a week after, and I never saw him again.
My first student hook up, he was and probably will always be the most beautiful man I have ever seen in person, let alone naked and in my bed. He was a tall, dark, hairless swimmer with big hands, broad shoulders, and a toothy, stupid smile. We had sex regularly for a couple of months, but his English was bad and my Turkish was worse, so it stayed strictly physical. I was perfectly happy with the arrangement as I suspected he wouldn’t have been a very good conversationalist anyway. He was so goddamn fine that I put up with the immensely boring and selfish sex (make out, blow job, missionary, he comes, we Google Translate a “conversation” for twenty minutes, make out again, blow job again, missionary again, doggy-style, he comes again, he leaves me frustrated, I finish myself – every single time) for months before I decided I didn’t want to fuck him anymore.
A swimmer friend of Anıl’s, also very sexy but in a darker and more muscular sort of way. After my birthday dinner with co-workers, a friend of a friend came back to my apartment with Anıl and Yiğit and I. We played a weird pidgin version of King’s Cup which found us all naked and handsy at the end. She and Anıl banged on my couch and I took Yiğit into my bedroom. I spent five mintues doing my damndest to get him hard before I realized he had already finished. We listened to Anıl going through his boring routine with the friend of a friend while trying to keep the room from spinning. Worst birthday sex ever.
He was a co-worker and a good friend in Istanbul. He was a prematurely balding hipster nerd, but I always kind of wanted to bang him. There was a lot of not-so-subtle sexual build up – I put my hand in his pants in a crowded square on New Year’s Eve, we told stories that were just a little too detailed about the students we were sleeping with, etc. One night we while drinking at his place he started tickling me, and the next thing I knew my shirt was off and his dick was in my mouth. We would sort of get touchy when we drank together for a while after that, but eventually it got weird. I still regret that we never actually had sex.
I was playing truth or dare with Uğur, a student and a friend for several months, when he dared me to kiss him. We made out and I went down on him, only to discover that he had the most enormous penis I have ever seen. The Hallelujah Chorus played while I gave him head, but he couldn’t seem to keep it up. We decided to wait to try to have sex until he got back from his trip to Nigeria, but when he came to see me he was once again unable to keep it up for more than a few thrusts. He apologized and apologized. I assured him it was not a problem and said he should come back the next day when he was rested. I was heavier than I liked at the time, though, and I was secretly afraid he just wasn’t attracted to me. The fact that we never hung out alone again did nothing to convince me otherwise.
My final student hookup, he was a hugely sexy Bulgarian engineer with a smile that could stop your heart at thirty feet. I knew I was going to fuck him when he told me he had gotten hair plugs (I would never have known) like it was no big deal – I loved his complete lack of embarrassment about it. I was moving to a new city in three weeks and just wanted a bit of fun, and he absolutely delivered. He gave me my first vaginal orgasm and liked to talk while he fucked me, which was a huge turn on…most of the time. The third time we had sex he stopped in the middle of a moment, looked into my eyes and said “I love you, my teacher.” Surprised, I called him goofy and switched to doggy so he couldn’t see me laughing into my pillow. He got kind of intense after I left and kept insisting that he loved me. He was a super hot sexter, but I had to shut it down when he started texting me Nickelback lyrics to express his feelings.
I knew John a little in high school, but we lost touch for a long while. When I moved back to my hometown we reconnected and got coffee to talk about our travels after high school. I was instantly super hot for him. He had turned into a handsome and kind of scruffy dude with a broad chest, big arms, and a disarming amount of confidence. He’s the kind of man that fills up rooms. We kept hanging out, but nothing happened until he took me for a ride on his motorcycle. I had to get his pants off post-haste. It took several months, but it was totally worth the build up. Sex with him is fun and immensely satisfying, and it doesn’t hurt that his dick is a thing of beauty. I had mostly forgotten how different sex can be when there are actual feelings involved, and it’s a pretty nice change of pace.