“Panic sweeps through me: It’s blood. And obviously I’m hemorrhaging.”

~

By two.one.five Staff  |  Send to Friend

My First... : Wherein we reminisce about a seminal experience in our sexual education.

My First Cunnalingus…Well, almost.

Peter and I were a couple that thrived on the words we feverishly wrote on scraps of notepad and passed surreptitiously in the hallways of our psycho-religious, Christian high school. On paper, we were sexually savvy in all the right ways. We had a way of crafting sentences that would make the other blush but not award detention in the likely event of confiscation.

However, like most sheltered, Christian 17-year-olds, we had almost zero exposure to the things we wrote about so well. Thus, our limited make-out sessions tended to be full of awkward nose bumping, accidental pinching (or biting), and someone’s arm going to sleep.

Despite our clumsiness in the back of his ’81 Chevy Celebrity, we continued our deviant writing throughout the school year. Our main goal: having sex after our “Senior Banquet.” For those of you outside the world of religious nuttery, this is basically a prom featuring two hours of bad food and an endless slideshow of “memory moments” taken by the yearbook staff. There shall be no dancing, no low cut dresses, no after-dinner rage, and frivolity shall be kept at a minimum.

The night went pretty much as planned: pictures at his house, pictures at my house, take his parents’ car to the banquet, suffer through the night, then make a detour on the way to the chaperoned bonfire.

We pulled the car off the road and into the middle of a field. Looking back, I can’t remember why we would ever think this was a great idea considering we were small town kids and small town cops have nothing better to do then wait to come across steamed windows. Unhindered by our surroundings, we started kissing and with almost no further ado, Peter announces that he’s going to “go down” on me. About five seconds in (I truly couldn’t even tell you if he started or not), I look down to find a mysterious shadow blossoming out around my left thigh. I quickly glanced around outside looking for the source of the shadow, and then remembered – we’re in a field.

At this very second, Peter’s head snaps up and I see his lower face covered in the same shadow. Panic sweeps through me: It’s blood. And obviously I’m hemorrhaging. All I can think is, “Holy shit, why can’t I feel any pain?” Turning on the car light indeed revealed massive amounts of blood covering almost everything and despite the lack of pain (or pleasure, for that matter) I’m feeling, I realize I am about to bleed out in the front seat of a family sedan.

Peter has had almost no reaction this entire time. His face is a mixture of disgust and concern. Then, suddenly, he says, “Um, I think my nose is bleeding.”

A moment passes while we both try to process what’s going on. He checks his nose, which is, in fact, still bleeding, and I feel faint with relief. As we tried to clean up the mess, Peter cracked some lame joke about my menstrual cycle and then leaned in to kiss me. I dodged his lips and climbed into the driver’s seat with his keys.

We didn’t have another shot at our goal until about two months later and that story is more awkward than this one. I still only consider him a 0.5 on a tally of how many guys I’ve been with. 

 

Sexuations: Wherein we identify hot new sexual possibilities.

1. The Vaccum Cleaner
One partner holds the other by the legs in the wheelbarrow position as he or she does a pushup off the floor. Suddenly and without warning the standing partner kicks the other’s arms out from under them and plows their face all around the room.

I’m pretty sure my lab partner got Vacuum Cleaned this weekend -- he had rug burn across his entire face!

 

 

 

 

2. The Bazooka Joe

 

This is for the ladies out there who don’t get their fill. After performing safe sex, the female takes the loaded condom and proceeds to blow it up. Aiming for the male’s face, she keeps blowing until it explodes like bubble gum and knocks an eye out. This should relay the message loud and clear that next time you'd like some in return.

Mary never thought she could stoop that low and give her man a Bazooka Joe, but that’s what he gets for falling asleep every freakin’ time.