It’s been three years to the day that I met that dumb shit. I’d just turned sixteen so he knew I wasn’t jailbait. But I was a dumb shit too, having parents who didn’t wise me up to the facts of life. I haven’t the guts to confront them yet but I am making sure my younger sister knows what the hell is going on and doesn’t fuck up like I did.
Speaking of fucking, I started at sixteen. I only waited that long because nobody tried it with me. I’m not very good looking so didn’t have to deal with dates trying to grope me and wanting blow jobs. I was real curious about sex but my parents wouldn’t even say the word, let alone talk to me about it.
Lenny was older and no better looking than I was but paid attention to me, something I was starved for. He led me down the path and took my cherry. He would hook up with me a few times each week and we would screw after school or on a cheap date. I loved it.
My parents and I weren’t getting along, as frequently happens with teenagers, and Lenny offered me an out, so I ran away and started living with him. My parents were furious of course.
Well, the bloom was soon off the rose. We lived in a crummy apartment building and it wasn’t too long before I discovered what he really wanted was unpaid cooking, cleaning, and fucking. The first two weren’t bad because that’s what I had to do at home anyway. After a bit, the last one got to be a chore. He didn’t give a damn about my satisfaction, and probably didn’t even know that I needed any.
Our sex life soon turned into me spreading my legs or getting on my hands and knees when he got home from work, usually handing him a beer before he stuck it in. About half the time he would fuck me before going to work or after we went to bed. That was about as romantic as it got. My pussy just felt better than his right hand.
I wasn’t working and he never even asked me what I did all day. I guess because I was often watching TV when he came home, he thought that is what I did while he was gone.
To keep from feeling so lonely, I visited with other residents in the laundry room, elevator, or in the little courtyard where you could sit play basketball. I met a few other women but none that I could relate to.
There was an older man in the building who paid me a few cash dollars to clean his place a little bit and laundry. I didn’t tell Lenny about that. He didn’t give me any spending money so that was my treasure.
I finally got a steady job with a man who was recently divorced and needed a regular babysitter. Lenny liked that I was bringing in extra money so went along with it. I met the kids after school and took care of them until he got home. He would visit with me for a little while since he got there about an hour before Lenny. One or two evenings a week he had meetings to go to so I would stay over until he got home. The kids were asleep by then so we could visit. I felt really safe with him so I finally asked if he would talk about sex because my parents hadn’t. He got a book that parents are supposed to use with kids and we went through it and he answered my questions.
I called him Mr. P because he had a Polish name I couldn’t pronounce or spell. At the end of my “class” I had a request for Mr. P, “I like sex but I don’t want to get pregnant. What can I do?” We talked about birth control. He got very concerned and took a day off to take me to Planned Parenthood and pretended to be my father to give permission.
He was so nice and caring and I felt very indebted, so I said to him on the way back, “I know you don’t have any women friends. Why don’t you have sex with me? You are a good teacher, after all. I want the rest of the lessons too.”