TMI Thursday: Misplacing the V-Card

I was 19. Chase & I had been dating about 2 months. He was older (23) and experienced. I had just gotten my first kiss on Valentine's Day when I was 18, and my first boyfriend, Patrick, and I didn't do much more than makeout and dry hump over clothes.

Dates with Chase were like a practical application of sex education. We quickly went through lessons 1, 2, 3, and then Chase was ready to slide into home (yes, I know that's a mixed metaphor--but go with me here).

I stalled for quite sometime, mostly because I was positively terrified. At the time, I thought Chase was freakishly huge. After our experience last September, I'm not sure if I was just reallllly shy or something else. Camile insists that penises can grow--do they shrink too with age?

Finally, one night we're getting into it and I get into the usual routine of fondling and oral sex. It was about all I was comfortable with. Not to mention, he still lived with his mother. His bedroom was next to the bathroom-- and I'm not exactly a quiet person. She liked me, though I'm not sure she would if she knew how often I sneaked into the house after everyone else had gone to sleep.

Chase is more insistent tonight.


"I want to make love to you," he purrs in my ear, the dim lighting reflecting into tiger stripes across his cinnamon colored back.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that, Chase," I insist. He runs his tongue down my neck and across my shoulder, turning my deep breaths into ragged gasps. It isn't long before I'm begging for release, and he is only going to give it to me in one way. I can't take it anymore.


"Fuck me," I command. A condom materializes out of thin air and he slides it on, ready to slide into me. I tense, cause now I'm anxious as hell as he slides in. It hurts. I ask him to stop. He kisses me, trying to get me to relax, but I can't. I'm not ready, and I know it, as much as I want to please him.

"It'll just be like pulling off a band aid. It'll be okay," he purrs again. "You love me don't you?"

"I can't do this!" I roll away from him and start crying. He sighs angrily, pulls the condom off, and lays down as far away from me as he can on the single bed. I know he's upset.

After a few minutes later, I curl into him.

"I'm sorry...." I plead in my best "I'm-cute-please-don't be-mad-at-me" voice. He says nothing, and turns on the TV. I stare at the movie--Resident Evil--for a few minutes. I'm being punished--I understand that through my naiveté. I do the only thing I know how to do—I grovel.

Burrowing my head under the covers, I lick down to him, taking him in my mouth, wincing momentarily at residual latex taste. He stops me.

“I don’t want you to give me head. I want to fuck you.”

I answer by giving him a condom.

Again, he tries to slide into me. I try to relax, but as he stretches me, I involuntarily tighten up. The impatient look on his face turns my stomach. This was not the patient, loving experience I wanted to have. And so many questions run through my mind: Could I get pregnant? Am I ready to give up the Virgin label? Will he call me tomorrow? Could I go to Hell for this?

He’s the one to turn away, sitting on the edge of the bed. I watch as he takes care of himself. I try to help, but he shoves me away, so hard I tumble over onto the floor. I kneel watching his cum rain down onto the carpet, where it pools in angry drops beside the two unused condoms.

I still stay there that night, laying next to him in the tiny bed. He’s hanging off on the edge of the bed, but when I try to pull him closer to me, he pushes my arms away.

It’s no surprise that Chase broke up with me a week later. Its 9 more months until I lose my virginity, to a Naval petty officer stationed at the sub base. 15 minutes later, I found out he was engaged.

For more Indecent Exposures, check out the other entries at TMI Thursday.

Close encounters of the ex kind

After my "grueling" workout at the gym with Minnie (I walked for 45 minutes. I wish I could run), I stood at the desk waiting for tanning. All of a sudden, Chase walks in.

I haven't seen Chase since our last encounter in September. I had purposely joined this new gym because it was not the one he was going to last time we talked. He's one of those toxic people I do my best to avoid. And yesterday, I had Chase-dar. Walking on the treadmill, I got the premonition that Chase could walk in the gym at any minute. And here he was, 24 hours later.

Of course, sweaty, in spandex yoga pants, no makeup, and at least 15 lbs heavier than the last time he saw me, was not the ideal way to run into your first boyfriend especially when you realize that the gym has transformed him from scrawny ghetto boy to muscular gym rat. I may not want to date or sleep with him, but a girl has some pride.


He said hi as he walked in. My face must have turned white because walking into the tanning booths, Minnie whispered, "God damn, who the fuck was that?"

"Chase, my ex. He's an asshole, but we dated on and off for a couple years." 

She turned to look appreciatively at his back as he flirted with the attendant at the counter.

"With a body like that, Aurora, he could be an asshole all he wants..."

Having Chase around the gym makes me very nervous for some reason. He now inspires the same chills up my spine that seeing a coiled rattlesnake in the grass gives me. I don't trust him in any way, shape, or form. 

The story is anticlimatic. He didn't say or do anything improper--just a quick hi and funny to see you here. He actually even deleted me off facebook  He just gives me the creeps. He's just one of those people I just as soon as forget, and I can't seem to avoid him.

Can anyone relate? 

Briefly Back On (the) Chase

"Men are not against you, they are merely for themselves"- Gene Fowler

I met Chase* in 2004. He was the one that enticed me with his tall, dark, and handsome complexion to leave the land of virginity, and cast aside my Puritanical beliefs. He was the first one, after I lost weight to pay attention to me, and make me believe that I was sexy. As his name denotes, being with Chase was a constant battle. Our on-again, off-again relationship was legendary, as was our passion. There were nights that I would wake up to him calling as he got out of work (he worked 2nd shift) asking me to come down. Even though I was at school a half hour away, I'd quickly shower and shave, and drive to his house. The next morning, I'd stumble into class, exhausted with the goofy smile of someone who had spent the night being ravaged. My friends, especially Twinsie, would shake their heads, knowing that I yet again hadn't learned my lesson.

When I met Trevor, however, I finally cast aside my obsession with Chase for the quiet comfort of love, even though Trevor wasn't as great in the sack as Chase.

Three years went by. I randomly bumped into Chase at the gym one night earlier this year. We started talking again. We always were best friends, even if Chase's inability to commit kept us apart. We've remained friends and supported each other through the various relationship problems we've encountered. Through this all, it's been platonic, even though I drunkenly texted him for sex one night. Don't get me wrong, even though Chase is now 28 (a fact which boggles my mind), he still is insanely sexy. However, now that I know what it means to "make love," and not just "fuck," I don't crave that anymore. I don't even hold Chase as the "best ever," though he is second only to Jay.

Chase texted me last weekend, and I could sense things were different, yet familiar. Conversations started to spiral into what could only lead to an invitation to come over. Last night, I got exactly that. Out of the clear blue, he started talking about how much he missed my mouth..... Even though I am pretty much done with dating because I'm tired of being hurt, and I've decided to not sleep with anyone else lest I find myself with the "slut" label, I decided that sleeping Chase might not be a bad thing. After all, I was over the emotions for him; he's a guaranteed good fuck; and since he's already on my list, he wouldn't add to my number.

So I invited him over to my apartment. I gave him head, like he wanted, and then he wanted to fuck me. I was punch drunk with desire for him at that point. Chase has an inmistakable allure. Thirty seconds later, it was over. As I lay there, wondering what the hell just happened, he sat up and said that the night was just for him, and not for me, and he wasn't even going to pretend like it was.

All I could do was laugh. It was so like Chase-- so unabashadly selfish that i couldn't even be upset with him. I should have learned from my three years with him that he was capable of it. The thought even crossed my mind as I waited for him. But I pushed it aside, too excited for the thought of reliving the past nights of passion.

So, dear Readers, what lessons have you thought you learned, only to go back to your old ways in a moment of weakness?