Oh God, What Was I Thinking

Starting this blog has been like ripping off a plaster^*, which incidentally, is what the first person I ever slept with said losing my virginity would be like.

So, we shall start with #1. Since he’s the first, I suppose I’d better reveal how I went from someone who’d never slept with anyone, to someone who had. Especially before I get to the musical blowjob part of the story and reveal why I can never listen to the Indiana Jones theme again.

It was 1999. I was 17, and in the Sixth Form at school. I was so sweet and innocent back then. Long blonde hair, no piercings, no tattoos. I’d only ever kissed one other boy before #1, and that wasn’t until the year 11 prom.

Guy #1 and I had begun dating (I’ll gloss over the fact that I only kissed him to get back at another boy and ended up dating him for 2 years, but if this blog is a replacement for therapy then I might have to revisit that later). His birthday was approaching, and I asked him what he might like as a present. I would have liked to assume that I myself was enough of a gift, but I was painfully shy back then.

I asked him, expecting him to say the name of a CD or one of those newfangled DVD-things that he might like. His response verbatim (because I’ll never forget it): “Well, I’d really like to f*** you.”

Ok, so it turned out I was the gift…

I don’t remember feeling particularly nervous. I was very nearly 18, and I already felt like everyone in the entire school had slept with someone except me. I had a proper boyfriend, so that was expected, right? Plus, I’d seen Cruel Intentions so many times by this point, and I was fully confident it would be just like it was in the film.

Cruel Intentions had an absolute chokehold on me at that age. Me and #1 modelled ourselves on Annette and Sebastian. I was the blonde virgin, and he was the spoiled rich boy with the little green car. Except in the film, Sebastian had a 1956 Jaguar Roadster. #1 had a Ford Fiesta.

I digress.

The day came. And I know you want the juicy details, but it was all very lacklustre, and not particularly memorable at all. We didn’t make love softly and sensually with Colorblind by Counting Crows playing in the background. It was lots of awkward fumbling in his bedroom while his parents were out. That was it. I do, however, remember him proudly announcing to his friends the following day that yes, I was a natural blonde.

Sleeping with #1 unlocked something in me though. A deep, lusty desire. I was no longer Annette from Cruel Intentions; I wanted to be Kathryn. I wanted to confidently enjoy sex and be really good at it. So I did what any teenage girl did to be Good At Sex: I read Cosmo.

One issue of Cosmopolitan magazine came with a free book: 52 Things To Try In The Bedroom. One a week. So we did. We ticked off everything we could. I think I felt like I had to make up for lost time. I’d never done anything with anyone else before, so I had to do everything with #1. Which leads me to the musical blowjob part of the story.

I was completely clueless back then. I once asked a close friend why it was even called a ‘blow’ job, when I thought the whole point was to suck? I had no idea. I couldn’t possibly ask #1 for pointers, I wanted to just be good at it. So I pored over every article in Cosmo about how to pleasure your man and give perfect head.

One article stood out. The advice was simple. All you had to do, it read, once you had him in your mouth, was hum. Easy! I had to try it.

The next time we were together, #1 sat on the edge of the bed, and I knelt between his knees. Practice makes perfect, after all… Now was my chance. I started to hum.

In hindsight, I realised that when the Cosmo article said “hum” it probably meant one long, low note, sending vibrations all around your mouth. Which makes perfect sense. In my defence, it didn’t specify, so right there, in that moment, I did what seemed to make sense at the time, and I hummed a tune. The first song to pop into my head? The Raiders March, more commonly known as the Indiana Jones theme.

I’m sure the mouth-vibrations were sensational, but if someone went down on me and started humming a John Williams film score I’d be more than a little disturbed. Especially if it was off-key.

Needless to say I did not win the Blowjob of the Year award, and we never spoke of that again.

The lesson learned?

Never date someone just to get back at someone else, and never ever hum a song while you’ve got someone’s d*** in your mouth.

_{^*that’s ’band aid’ if there’s anyone from the US reading this.}