Love & Sex

My First Time: Female, 14, Florida

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Female • 14 • Florida

I lost it in a public park. There is some strange magnetism with me and parks which I fail to understand to this day. The only times I've been in trouble with the law happened at parks. The first time I saw what guys keep behind their belts? A park, at night. Florida kids don't have the luxury of basements, so that's probably where it comes from. One must improvise. (My first real kiss happened on a Carnival cruise. I am every bit the suburban tragedy.)

I hadn't quite gotten used to the idea of guys liking me yet; I was fresh out of years of torture for being the smart, pale girl. He was tall, smart, cute, gentlemanly, and very funny. We sat next to each other in a time-wasting class, where he watched me trick a childhood guy friend into doing my class work. He said I was "cocky" and I said he was confusing cockiness with being resourceful. We started at the school the same year, but in separate grades. He was the guy that almost every girl liked. This, of course, resulted in endless girl-drama, and me being "a huge bitch" to almost every freshman and sophomore girl before I had even gotten the chance to live up to the title. Once I got past being the "bitch," being his girlfriend made high school seem pretty kick-ass. We were a literal jock-cheerleader couple, and people were nice to me for once.

I had already decided — without consulting him — that it was happening that night.

He'd had sex before and I knew it, but wasn't surprised or concerned. Of my four closest friends, two had already lost their virginities (and given me all the details) and I was not about to be the last. I wanted to know what it was like for myself. (I was the little girl who asked a thousand questions until my single mother caved and gave me The Talk.) I was and am a huge nerd, but he claimed to like it. The only thing I disliked about him was his tendency to play down his intelligence so as to mesh with the "cool" crowd.

We'd been together just over two months the first time we had sex. I had already decided — without consulting him — that it was happening that night. I was on the pill for other reasons, so the only practical issue left to address was location. To me it seemed perfectly obvious given our options: the park. He thought I was either very crazy or very prematurely kinky, or perhaps both.

I was on top, and instructed him to just sit there and let me get through the pain part first. Holding of breath… pinching feeling… the end. Even today I remember being a little disappointed. That's it? What is all the fuss about? The most discomfort I experienced was the scratch of the fresh-cut grass on my knees. After a few minutes of discomfort and laughing at ourselves, I readjusted my miniskirt, and we walked back to the center of town so my mother could pick us up.

He thought I was either very crazy or very prematurely kinky, or perhaps both.

I am quite thrilled to report that the sex quickly became fun and enjoyable, and I became the authority on sex matters among my girlfriends. My penchant for public places increased, and together he and I took on all parts of our campus, two athletic fields, a dugout and a few more public parks.

We were together for a few years after that, and we're still friends today. We mostly talk about his girl problems. Once we broke up, we both dated our way outward through our social circle. I am now happily engaged to his super-cerebral best friend, and he wants to become a priest online so he can officiate our wedding. I'm getting married in the hotel garden across from that park.