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Heart and Sex (Pt 1)

The First

By M. TomaschPublished 5 years ago 5 min read

I asked a fortune teller what my love life would look like. She looked me dead in the eye and said two words: "It sucks."

I thought she was full of it, and then I started my life. Boy, was she not wrong.

I find someone that seems so wonderful and then, it turns out to be a complete and utter disaster.

My one great regrettable ex was the first.

I met him solely because he was the son of someone my sister-in-law's mother knew, and my wonderful SIL thought maybe we'd hit it off. The first date was at a Thai restaurant not far from his place. He tried very hard for me to pick him up from his place and come back home with him. In my infinite blonde dumbness, I messed up and he had to drive himself anyway. The food was great, honestly. The conversation was heavily one sided. He talked about himself and talked over me, interrupted me when I tried to contribute and I, being polite, let him talk. I sat there and just enjoyed the food and spoke up whenever I was allowed.

I remember that night all too well. The moon was at a waxing gibbous and I was able to tell him the date it would be full by just looking at it. He argued with me, but a quick Google search showed I was right. I don't think he liked that very much.

There was a second date. I don't remember it, honestly. A third, a fourth, and I suppose a fifth, but I cannot remember them. I just know that at some point he told me he was a virgin (and so was I at this point) and that he was saving himself for someone special. Well, his dick must have thought I was good enough.

It started with him just grinding on me and us touching each other through our clothing (very high school level awkwardness, despite both being in our 20s). Then it escalated. Him first going down on me, me being too scared to even touch his member directly, and general touching.

I was kinda shamed into reciprocating. I was still really nervous to even have his member near my face, let alone in my mouth, and I was scared honestly. But I did it. I sucked that dick and he came right in my throat. No warning. No apology for that either. Just *clench* *squirt* *groan* and done. Penetration happened another night.

Again the details are fuzzy around it happening, and I cannot recall all that happened (I was not intoxicated or drugged up). I just know that we had been discussing kinks and I showed interest in BDSM. He was extremely eager to "experiment." I should have known then something was off, because he immediately produced a pair of fun-time cuffs and rope from his dresser. I was eager. I did want to do something.

Maybe it was just the rebellious part of me wanting to do something that had been painted as wrong and vile to me, or maybe I just wanted to please him because I thought I could not do any better than what I had. Either way, I let him cuff my wrists and bind me spread eagle on his bed.

Whatever followed that, I can barely remember.

I do remember him complaining that the condom was slipping off or was uncomfortable or something like that. I think he ended up just having me blow him and he came on my face or chest (again, details are very hard to remember about that experience).

I just know I felt very dirty afterwards and ashamed of myself, but he was satisfied so I accepted that. After that first time it became a regular occurrence. Every time he took me out, he tied me down and had his way with me. Every time there was an extended drive (usually when it was dark) he'd tell me to give him road head. Several times, we did it in the back seat of his car.

Throughout all of this I discovered a few things. One: Chinese food is an aphrodisiac for me; and two: I didn't like the fact that he would expect sex as a sort of payment for the things he did for me.

He even said so himself to me one night when he took to his apartment and ushered me past his roommate to his bedroom. I asked that we not do anything and that I wanted to actually watch a movie or something with him instead. He made me question myself. He convinced me that I was the one that came onto him and that I really wanted him to do this to me. I believed him and then he pounded me with my legs tied open and my hands above my head. He tied my hands up because he didn't like when I tried to push him off of me when I told him I had enough.

We did other positions besides that. We even 69'd once. Once. When we were done he informed me that I was a "brown eyed girl" and laughed when I got embarrassed. I haven't done that position since.

He tried to get me hired at his place of work doing something I didn't want to do with my life. He tried ordering me glasses that he liked when he knew I was going to get a new pair. Everything about my life he slowly tried to take over. But there was one factor that he did not count on.

The controlling nature of my mother.

If not for her I think I would have been unhappily married to that man and for that fact alone I know I will always love her. She slowly started putting words in my ears about him (she didn't know and doesn't know about what we did behind closed doors, or else he'd be dead). She noticed the things he said and the way I acted around him. More docile and not myself.

I broke up with him over the phone. Yes, not the best way to go about it but I was afraid to face him and it was all I could manage. A friend called me out on this and when I tried to confide in her the things he did she told me that he did nothing wrong and that it was expected of me. Those words still haunt me to this day.

He had my copy of Dante's Inferno that I wanted back, so I agreed to meet him for coffee. I just wanted my book back—he wanted to convince me to go back out with him again. I panicked. I didn't want him to follow me around or stalk me or think there was any chance I'd go back with him. So, I told him the one thing that would deter him from thinking there was a chance: I told him I was seeing a woman.

He was surprised and I even gave him a name: Jessie (ironic because his favorite song was "Jessie's Girl"). I found out through my SIL that he told his mother and through this grapevine she confessed that she thought I wasn't as into him as he was into me. My SIL also informed me that he was so heartbroken that he was already dating a new girl a mere two weeks after I gave him the slip.

Following him, I saw no one for nearly a full year. Then I moved and I found my next love affair.


About the Creator

M. Tomasch

I live for a sigh, I die for a kiss, I lust for the laugh, ha ha! I never walk when I can leap! I never flee when I can fight! I swoon at the beauty of a rose.

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