I think she loved me, but in a blockbuster movie scary kind of way.
She was like most people I’ve met. They only love people who won’t love them back, because if they were actually in a relationship everyone would find out they’re an asshole.
We sat on the floor.
She said, “You’re really weird.”
“Oh yeah,” I said.
“My father is such a fuck head.”
When she got to talking about her father, it didn’t end for a while.
When people start bitching about their parents, you have to be prepared to hear a lot of strange and disgusting sentences.
She had the habit of analyzing everything they did wrong, and just stopping there. Never analyzing herself, just her parents.
I didn’t care though.
I was too busy hating my parents to hate someone else’s.
She eventually got around to the sex.
“Wouldn’t it be cool if we had sex?” she said.
“In a church?” I asked.
“Yeah, that would be awesome.”
“Hmm, do you have a condom?”
“Yeah.”
Taylor reached into her purse and pulled one out.
She always carried condoms around like she was this big slut.
She used to talk about all the guys she fucked.
I never believed her.
Taylor had such a bad personality, the only person who would hang around her was a person who had absolutely no self-esteem and nothing to do. Like myself.
I’ve met a lot of young females who prided themselves on how many people they’ve slept with. Later I found out that they didn’t sleep with half the people they said they fucked.
Usually those are the girls who have their self-esteem destroyed by their parents and don’t have the motivation to do anything well, so they suck at everything. Sleeping with people is pretty easy; the only thing a person must do for that is show up.
“Do you think we will go to hell for having sex in a church?” said Taylor.
“Having sex in a church isn’t mentioned in the Bible as a sin,” I said.
“But sex before marriage is.”
“Hmm, to tell you the truth, I don’t really care. I wanna lose my virginity. Being a virgin is boring.”
“I don’t know, we might go to hell.”
“Listen Taylor, first there would have to be a God. Second a hell, and third evangelical canon says that the Lord is All Powerful and that our lives are predestined. And that He has chosen who goes to hell and who goes to heaven before we are even born. So it doesn’t matter what we do.”
“You’re right, let’s do it.”
Taylor was wearing a dress; she stood up and pushed her panties down.
I took off my pants.
Service was still going on.
All the assholes were still there listening to the pastor discuss a verse from the Old Testament.
One of the verses where God gets pissed and kills a bunch of sinners.
I got real hard.
Was excited.
Was gonna lose my virginity.
She told me to lie down on the floor.
I got down and lay there impatiently.
She got on top.
I saw that she had hair on her bush, but it was trimmed.
She put my dick inside her pussy.
Her pussy was nice and wet.
It slid in easy.
I was like holy shit this is sweet.
Not sweet like rose petals and Valentine cards.
But like Corvettes and the Cleveland Browns going to the playoffs.
I was high.
My dick was in a pussy.
And it felt good to be in that small compact area.
She pumped up and down.
Down and up.
Up and down.
She went slow, pretending she was making love to me.
I didn’t care; my dick was in a pussy.
I had waited so long.
So long.
It was great fun.
So much better than my hand.
I came after three minutes.
It was an excellent three minutes.
My dick was in a pussy!
I felt so happy.
So fucking happy.
Don’t know how she felt.
Don’t know if she enjoyed it or what.
Never asked.
Was probably just another person she could tell people she slept with.
But sometimes that’s the deal.
I give you attention, bragging rights, or money, and we have sex.
And it works the same way with males too.
Service was over.
Taylor needed to find her dad to get a ride home.
We walked out.
There were assholes everywhere.
I felt very happy.
Everyone kept saying how happy I looked.
They were right, I was delighted to be alive.
I had found my niche in the world.
I had found something to do, something better than smoking weed, playing video games, reading, drinking, being a good friend, and politics.
A real escape.
The impact of an orgasm on the human body and mind is the only experience that can remotely relieve the existence of all the bleak shittiness of human reality.
When I was fifteen, my life really sucked.
I was imprisoned in a house with a narcissistic mother who hated everyone, everything, and herself. And wanted everyone to feel the same as her.
My father was this typical Italian character who didn’t speak and randomly beat his wife and kids.
Both my parents were non-theists. They didn’t care a fuck about God or religion.
We said grace at Thanksgiving but that was just for fun.
That is probably why it was so easy to fuck in a church, because my parents showed no appreciation for religious values.
Which was fine with me, because after you grow up you realize that religious values are ownership, SUVs, hate, guilt and money.
Those values have no basis in reality and are totally boring and taxing.
I rarely saw Taylor after that.
We had sex in the woods a couple of months later.
It was on a beach towel.
I lasted a lot longer, probably because I didn’t want to have sex.
It was obvious that her sexual motivations with me were psychological and not physical. It is hard to get it up when your function during sex is to give somebody a psychological fix.
DOWN IN MEXICO
The next few years of my sex life sucked.
I freaked out and had to go to the mental ward and a high school for the mentally ill.
The doctors put me on anti-depressants that killed the intensity of my horniness.
Actually, it killed everything I was.
The pills just made me numb. I was dead to everything for three years of my existence.
The only activities I had energy for were reading and masturbating.
I masturbated heavily during those years.
The internet had just come out; I worked at a fast food restaurant, saved up and bought myself a computer.
I got the internet and masturbated at least once a day.
It was hard finding free internet porn that would get me off back in the late nineties. It wasn’t like it is today.
But I always persevered.
If it took two hours on my knees in front of the computer, I would do it.
I would search and search and search for that one pic that would excite me enough to get me off.
My knees hurt badly, but the physical sensation of an orgasm was more important than the pain in my kneecaps.
Sex in high school was lame, as it is for everybody.
I usually lasted three minutes.
I feel so bad for females in high school.
I’ve heard it said by females that sex doesn’t really start feeling good until about the fifth minute, so if the males never reach the fifth minute they probably think, “What the fuck am I even here for?”
While I was in the school for the mentally ill, I had a short affair with my counselor.