So, all that sorted out, let's press on. I'm not going to tell you my name. Suffice to say, I don't like my name. I am, however, thirty six. I am a late starter. By that, you will probably glean that I was a virgin until a late age. Chronic shyness had something to do with it. Partly that and I dislike a great part of humanity. They irritate me. So finding someone I want to be close to in any form is rare.
I did end up having sex though, and was physically and mentally mature enough to enjoy it. A lot. Turned out to be quite good at it. My experience numbers three, but all very, very good. I learned how to perform oral sex particularly well, and I enjoy that sometimes more than penetration, which I enjoy a lot. After relationship number two, I emerged with a snapped foreskin.
Yeah. Not fun. Imagine someone ramming a hot needle into your cock during intercourse. I became terrified of sex for three years. Until this summer, when a friend of mine broke up with her boyfriend.
I'd met her years before. She's beautiful, and short. Black hair, green eyes, thirty five years old, and petite. You can pick her up easily. I'd had a crush on her for a while, way back, when I was a virgin. Didn't happen. She was married then, and I was too innocent. Over the next few years, she left the husband, and dated, while I dated, sporadically anyway.
During the break up, I took her out. She's always been cuddly, but now she was cuddly and single. Didn't matter to me, she and I are just friends, but I couldn't deny she was still the most attractive woman I know. We met up, again, and ended up talking about sex. About specifically, casual sex.
I'd never done that. I'd always wanted to. The freedom of fucking without romantic entanglements. I didn't think it would ever happen, thought I wasn't that kind of guy. I was a bit wrong. Continued....later.