And of course, for me and for the only girls I was interested in, romance or relationship was a prerequisite for sex.īut that just left more mental space for me to think about those people for whom sex had nothing to do with romance. But I had already come to the conclusion that I wasn't going to get into a romantic relationship with anyone around here in the last three or four months before I left for college. So, I started spending my last few weeks of high school imagining, contemplating how, and with whom, I might repeat the experience. And all of those feelings were all jumbled up with the memory of a five-minute near-orgasm. I was horrified by my visions of other people seeing me and finding out, thinking less of me, seeing me as pathetic. I felt used, like this object to be wrapped around a cock and thrust into and cum into, and then thrown away, like a tube sock or a pair of sister's panties. I hadn't had an orgasm, but Luke's hard appendage inside me had rhythmically massaged some part of me that I didn't know existed, and made me feel like I was on the verge of one for several straight minutes.īut the other thing was that the whole time, I felt shame and regret and humiliation. After the initial pain of being stretched open, I had found the sensation of being filled up to have been overwhelming and exhilarating. The thing was, the experience was mind-blowing. And, oddly enough, that was okay with me. Luke was all about the conquest, and now that I was in his trophy case, he had lost interest. It was bullshit, of course, but erotic bullshit. Or, in the private joke in my head, "Marti," with a little heart above the "i." Because he had boasted that his cock was going to turn my ass into a pussy, and me into a girl. The only acknowledgment was that he was now calling me "Marty," in public, a play on my last name. But I had allowed myself to get into a cycle of teasing with Luke Wallace, the all-state defensive tackle who liked to make outrageous boasts about how many virgins he had deflowered, including his male rivals who he "sissified" with his big cock.Īfter he had done it to me on a futon in a darkened theater prop storage room, we never spoke of it again. I didn't think of myself as gay I still didn't, afterwards. But at the time, it was only the second most life-altering event within 24 hours. You would think that finding out that I had won a scholarship to Cornell would be the highlight of my month, the most memorable moment of my senior year.
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