Message-ID: <2665eli$9708061614@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Barbed Wire Subject: First Fuck/Worst Fuck Stories Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <33E8AE35.3AB0@istar.ca> The following stories are taken from Barbed Wire webzine: Issue 4: The FIRST FUCK/WORST FUCK Issue For more stories check out http://home.istar.ca/files/Authors/Paul/wwwl/wire In this document: 1) Busboy in the Basement by Sian Young 2) Drunk Teen Beach Fuck by Chuck Blade Busboy in the Basement By Sian Young It was a summer of hot, sticky nights. Nights when you go past sealed, air conditioned houses and snarl. When you take a shower and go to bed wet and naked, dripping on your pillow, with a fan lazily breathing on you, oscillating up and down your body. When everyone breathes through their mouth, slowly, as if they are blowing on a flame to make it go out. I was nineteen, confused, and horny. There was a lack in my life, and I was at risk of blowing my cover of maturity. The thing was, I had never had sex, done it, gone all the way. In high school, if you didn't want to be a slut, you had to wait until you were with a boyfriend you loved: minimum dating time before The Big Moment was six months. I had never quite reached that threshold and thus arrived at university, where everyone seemed to be boffing away, uninitiated still. I sensed this was holding me back from becoming the adult I desperately wanted to be. I had the developed chest, I had the dyed-blond hair, I had the mature lifestyle of a student living off-campus in an apartment which really didn't have roaches any more. I had the standard-issue condoms, courtesy of my cautious late-80's university. I was out to break the invisible barrier between me and Real Life along with whatever was left of my hymen. And it was the heady days of youth running free in a town that was not their own. Summer jobs in offices, bars, restaurants, where you could show up hung over or still drunk. We rode rickety bicycles along the river, crowded on buses to annoy sober riders, discussed our adventures in sordid detail in late night cafes. A balanced meal was falafel and grape juice, and a cultural experience was scrawling with crayons on the walls of a friend's about-to-be-renovated apartment. I remember that summer in the relative cool of night, prowling around a city that slept except for us. I was having a great time. All I needed to do, as I saw things, was to have fun, make enough money to pay tuition in September, and solve my virginity problem. Not onerous tasks, but the latter continued to hang over my head by the end of summer. But then I met a friend's busboy co-worker, Rick.. After work a crowd would hang out together, drinking Caesars and Harvey Wallbangers and tracking down all the after-hours bars and late parties we could find. Rick was the only non-student in the crowd, and I liked his flip wit, his attitude, his lithe body, his cockiness. Over a week or two of pack socializing, I found out some more about him... he was poor, he had a girlfriend, he hated his job... I wasn't really listening. I had decided he would do. He told me that he had started having sex when he was fourteen and had already had over twenty partners now at the ripe old age of nineteen. Great - if I wasn't going to sleep with someone for late-adolescent love, it had to be someone who knew what he was doing. I was looking for someone experienced, unavailable and enthusiastic. Somehow the situation advanced; one night we were at a party on a boat which moved to someone's house. He and I wound up making out at the end of the party, lying together on a scratchy couch. I remember whispering that his friend "sleeping" on the floor nearby was still awake. He asked his friend what the song playing on the radio was, and sure enough, the friend, wide awake, told us what it was, and I bolted. So, after whispered negotiations in the kitchen, he coaxed me into the unfinished basement, where it was private and blissfully cool. We spread out something to lie on - a piece of cardboard? a sleeping bag? - and pulled off clothing. The crucial moment has been lost in the mists of time and repetition, but I believe I was, well, a bit reluctant. Not unwilling, just chicken-shit. Having decided that I wanted to do it, I think I just wasn't sure what the hell to do. The details of his body, the shock of being totally naked with someone else, of skin on skin alone, all made me feel pretty inept. Fortunately, I had lucked out in my choice of partner. There have been a few men I have known who have shown an almost artistic appreciation of the female body and the sensory overload of the erotic experience. This happened to be one. It was about the Female Body, not about my body in particular, but I didn't know the difference, nor did I care. I stopped worrying about the spiders in the basement and about how exactly to do it. I followed his lead and we got on with things, with none of the pain or blood that years of reading female novelists had prepared me for. One thing, though, was wholly unexpected (I hadn't yet read Erica Jong). He slid down my body, past my belly, between my legs, and laid his mouth on me. I sat up in astonishment - much to his annoyance, since it probably gave him whiplash. It took me a while to get used to the feeling. Whole sets of nerve endings found their purpose in life and sprang into action. It was like finding out that I had another limb, or had another sense, or lived on another planet... His commendable attitude was, lie back down and get out of my way while I get you off. I didn't know what to make of that. I had been focused on the context of sex - being a virgin or a non-virgin, who you sleep with and who you don't... It hadn't occurred to me to worry about whether I would actually enjoy it, or whether I would have specific preferences or desires. This guy took it as his duty to teach me how to appreciate sex in the relatively pure, physical way he did. (It took a few years for this lesson to sink in completely. After all, he did have a five year head start on me.) Of course, not much was different afterwards. After a few nights together he rode off into the sunset, right on schedule. He did once rather forlornly ask if I would be his mistress, but I said no and wrote it off as a joke. My friend who worked with him quit his job and we all went back to school. Finally being able to answer "yes" to the campus doctor who asked "Are you sexually active?" every time I went to see her for an allergy test or bronchitis, I proudly went on the pill. Took up with, then dumped, a pathological liar. Went off the pill in favour of safe sex. I had dealt with the First Time and I was in search of the good times, which proved to be more rare than my first experience had led me to believe... Here's to you, Rick, ten years later, wherever and whoever you may be. Thanks for the first, good time. Maybe my memories have romanticized this story a bit, but hey - it's another hot summer night on the top floor and all I can think of is how it must be cooler in the damp of the basement. Drunk Teen Beach Fuck By Chuck Blade We met at camp. Ipperwash Army Cadet Camp. She was from Kapuskasing, a northern mining town, somewhere in the Clay Belt. Looking at her photo now I guess she was part native. It was my second day there and I saw her at the mess. She was tiny, barely five feet on her toes, and had tailored her standard-issue bush fatigues into a fit far too provocative for any man's army. Even the Sergeant Major was seen admiring the strategically placed darts on her uniform during the morning marchpast. I was determined to get laid that summer and after the long meaningful look we gave each other that day decided it would be her. Her name was Sandi and she was a seventeen-year-old shit disturber who liked to drink and party. She was a returning callout and likely to make sergeant. Only problem was she had a psycho ex-boyfriend who had been in and out of prison and would kick the shit out of anybody who laid a hand on her. The story went he was Returned To Unit last summer after flying into a jealous rage over her and nearly killing someone. This summer he was persona non grata at camp. So the next day during CPR lessons I asked her to be my partner. We necked all the way through the mouth-to-mouth drills and in a fit of passion I bit a piece of her lip off. She screamed and bled into my mouth. Later that day I saw her with her bandages and I apologised. She smiled coyly and called me animal. I was in love. We met every night our first week there. The first night by the jumping tower she denied my advances saying we only just met, it was all too fast, that we should take our time. The second night in one of the lecture tents we drank and played cards with some new buddies until our indiscreet fondling and kissing broke the party up. It was then that she laid down the rules: I'll do what I want, when I want, and with who I want. That was fine as long as she would fuck me now. We went at each other like a couple of wrestlers. She pushed me back against the centre pole and undid my belt. I threw her onto a table, tore open her shirt, yanked down her bra, and realised I had to take a piss. I stepped out of the tent to relieve myself and when I returned she had dressed herself and said she wasn't in the mood anymore. The rules. The little ballbuster. The next day after classes a bunch of us headed for the beach. Sandi had been drinking all day from a can of Orange Crush that she topped up with vodka every time our instructors barked at ease. Someone took a polaroid of us that day that she signed: I will never forget you, love Sandi. We didn't bother with dinner. Eight of us made our way to the beach, drinking gin straight from the bottle, singing stupid army songs, making a typical drunken teenage scene all the way there. When the sun went down we swam naked in the bay. That was when she started acting crazy, saying the lake was calling her, walking out into the water like some zombie until she was swallowed up by the bay. I had to fight her kicking and screaming all the way back to the shore. She was fucked up beyond repair. Needless to say she didn't remember a thing but I did. She puked all the way back to the barracks. We were off the next day so I hung around the barracks not doing much of anything, but trying to look busy while I did it so that I wouldn't look like I had nothing to do, when I heard the news. Someone had come back from Grand Bend and said he saw Sandi's ex-boyfriend in town. Apparently he had driven down from Kapukasing and was staying at the trailer park that bordered the military and the civilian beaches. When I saw her for the first time that day she was talking to some tough-looking older guy and we completely ignored each other. I went and got high and played some pinball at the rec centre. When she didn't show up for dinner I knew she'd gone with him. I went to the annex bought some cola and retired to my bunk. After a few rum and colas I had decided I didn't need to be played for a sucker, shit, there was plenty of pussy to be had that summer. Fuck her drunk ass. Next thing I know one of my friends burst in telling me to get the hell outta here cause he was headed this way, drunk, screaming bloody murder, looking to crack my skull. I grabbed my bottle and headed down to the dunes muttering to myself, 'the little bitch told him everything.' I found a beach party and joined it finally passing out from the rum. When I got back to base my bed had been completely dismantled, my locker knocked down, and my boots pissed in. All this and we hadn't even fucked yet. The next day she was unapologetic. My unit was shipping out for manoeuvres so maybe I'd see her in a week or something. I wasn't even sure what I was talking about anymore. I just had to get away from her. It was in the bush I got word she was gangbanging killer and a couple of his buddies down at the trailer park. Back at base I stayed clear of her. Ignored her entirely. Pretending like it meant nothing to me. Swallowing down my anger and disappointment, plotting my revenge on them, concocting the least expected, dispassionate yet most humiliating deed my naive sixteen year old brain could imagine I didn't get my chance with him but the police took care of it for me, arresting him for drunk and disorderly, disturbing the peace, resisting arrest, and breaking probation. They shipped his ass back to Kapuskasing. On the eve of my sixteenth birthday I was partying at the rec centre when she came in, saw me, and for the first time since the incident with her ex, came over to talk to me. She told me she knew it was my birthday and that she wanted to give me what I had always wanted: her pretty pussy was mine for the taking. I was to meet her down in the dunes, at our regular party spot, at midnight. Now was my chance. I found her there. Her small naked body swaying drunkly in the sand, reflecting a pale light from the moon against the inky blackness of the bay. Lust was subverting my plan. She kneeled down, took my cock into her mouth and drained the last bit of anger out of me. She lay down on her sleeping bag spreading her legs. Take me lover. It was over in about three strokes. I had lost my virginity to a drunken teenager on the beach at summer camp. Sweet sixteen. She had passed out from all the booze and excitement. I stood up to take a piss and as I looked down at her a sense of disgust raced through me. I left her there and walked back to camp. I never did get my revenge on Sandi but years later, at an Ipperwash reunion, I heard she got in a serious car accident driving drunk one night so that now she walked with a permanent limp and had other chronic health problems. The preceeding stories are taken from Barbed Wire webzine: Issue 4: The FIRST FUCK/WORST FUCK Issue For more stories check out http://home.istar.ca/files/Authors/Paul/wwwl/wire -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /