Chapter 10: My First Time (At Least I Didn’t Try The Coke)

Back in the early ‘80s, before the internet and long before the Web, a kind of local, miniature online world flourished: the Bulletin Board System or BBS. I guess you could sort of compare it to today’s web forums (themselves somewhat of a dying breed). The way it worked was, you’d connect your computer (assuming you were lucky enough to have one) to the a phone line using a modem and then dial the BBS’ phone number. You’d hear the “screeeeee” of a modem, familiar to many from films of that era, then text would magically start appear on your screen, and you were in. There were forums where you could read and post, private messages, and so on. All text, no pictures. Most BBSs ran on enthusiast’s personal computers and could only be used by one person at a time, so online chat rooms weren’t really a thing (this was before big online services like AOL), but typically a BBS would have a “chat with the sysop” feature — the sysop, or System Operator, being the enthusiast who ran the BBS.

I was a young teen in New York City with a cheap Commodore computer and a brand new modem I’d bought with my saved-up allowance. I aspired to run my own BBS, but in the mean time I was getting acquainted with the entire online world; all of it that could be reached with local calls in the 212 area code, at least. (My parents didn’t object to me hogging the phone for hours late at night but they would have been pissed if I’d run up the bill with long distance calls.) I wasn’t shy about trying the “chat with the sysop” feature and some of them soon recognized my geek potential, becoming friendly with me.

One guy in particular I used to spend quite a lot of time chatting with late at night. Mike became kind of a mentor in certain ways, not just technically (he eventually helped me get my own BBS off the ground) but also by just by being someone I could ask for advice when I was frustrated by life. We talked about all sorts of things, but on many a late night the subject would eventually veer towards sex. As a perpetually-horny pubescent teenager I was naturally always up for such conversations. I knew my new friend was an adult, and he knew my tender age, and I wasn’t totally oblivious to the fact that it was problematic for us to be discussing sexual topics, but I didn’t feel any real concern. It was just words on a screen, after all. As for my parents, while they knew I was up late in my room typing on my computer that was somehow connected to the phone, they really didn’t know or care to know the details.

I wasn’t quite prepared, though, for the offer Mike made late one night. He proposed that if I wanted to lose my virginity, I could visit him and have sex with his girlfriend. Naturally I was a bit taken aback, but I was hardly going to say so, and he was so nice about it — emphasizing that it was totally up to me and they wouldn’t pressure me to do anything that I didn’t want to do — that I agreed. He suggested that Friday. I told my parents I was going over to stay at a school friend’s place. By the time school ended on Friday I was in a state of uneasy anticipation. Honestly I was a little scared, but I also imagined I was a street-wise New York kid who could handle anything. I took the crosstown bus and headed over to Mike’s West Side apartment. It was a third-floor walkup and a little smaller and dingier than I had envisioned (we lived in a fairly nice doorman building on the East Side and I’d naïvely imagined that Mike, an apparently successful adult, would also have a nice place), but Mike and his girlfriend Norah invited me in and quickly made me feel at ease. I was for some reason not expecting Norah to be Asian, Chinese-American I believe, but she was attractive, with shoulder-length hair, a roundish face, and smallish breasts under her blue sweatshirt. Mike was — more or less how I’d imagined him, actually. (Aside from BBS chats, we’d spoken on the phone once or twice.) He was probably about 25 or so, 30 at most — I don’t think I ever asked. He had reddish hair, no beard, and a kind of mischievous glint in his eyes.

They offered me wine, which I accepted. Even at that young age I wasn’t totally unfamiliar with drinking — my parents started letting me have graduated, nominal amounts of wine and beer at the dinner table on special occasions once I reached double digits, slowly increasing the quantity and frequency as I got older. (I think this is a great idea, by the way. I never had any issues with binge drinking like so many of my peers in high school and college, being already used to occasional moderate alcohol intake.) After I’d finished the whole glass Norah poured for me, though, I was feeling a little tipsy and refused a refill. They didn’t press me and suggested we eat something. We ordered Chinese and had a nice dinner, talking about BBSs and music and pretty much anything but sex.

It was after dinner that they began to get to the point. Mike suggested that we get undressed — “if you still feel comfortable doing this,” he emphasized — and, feeling a little silly, I agreed. Norah went first, shedding her blue sweatshirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her pretty little breasts jiggled around invitingly. They were literally the first fully-developed breasts I’d seen live; my only exposure had been the soft-core, soft-focus movies that were sometimes shown on late night cable TV and the Playboy I’d smuggled into the house and hidden under my bed. I’d seen my sister and several of her friends naked plenty of times (that’s another story) but they were still mostly flat-chested.

I was getting hard as Norah began to take off her jeans and felt a little ashamed to start stripping myself, but Mike just said, encouragingly, “not bad, hey?” and didn’t comment on the fact that I hadn’t budged; I nodded agreement He asked me if I minded if he got undressed too. I was actually curious to see him naked and told him to go ahead. He was a sporting a pretty obvious bulge in his briefs and when he finally pulled them off, his erection sprung up from its nest of red hair. It looked big but not intimidatingly so. I was starting to feel embarrassed to be still dressed and finally began to strip, starting by taking off my T-shirt. Both Norah and Mike were watching avidly and of course I felt a little reluctant to take the final step and shed my underwear, but I finally I took a metaphorical big gulp and pulled them down. My penis, fully erect by now, was of course small compared to Mike’s, but it didn’t occur to me to feel any shame about that. I figured I was probably average for my age. Norah in any case put me immediately at ease by saying that I looked really handsome.

Mike dragged out a futon and we all sat on it, cross-legged, and looked each other over. I think even he was temporarily at a loss for words. He finally asked if I wanted to do some coke. This was the first time the whole evening that I felt apprehensive. I had no experience whatsoever with drugs and honestly believed that anyone who took them was probably not such a great person. But I was in pretty deep at that point. He asked if I minded if he did a line and, not really knowing what that entailed, I said it was OK. Norah was either perceptive of my consternation, or just not into drugs herself, and declined. Mike busied himself with his paraphernalia and Norah scooted over to me and put her arm around me. I leaned into her; she felt warm and inviting. She asked me if she could touch my penis. I said “sure,” and she handled it gently. Oddly enough I didn’t feel too overheated sexually; perhaps it was the strangeness of the situation. She began to nuzzle my hair and gently kiss my neck. Mike had snorted his line and was staring at us with his mouth slightly open from the other side of the futon. His erection was rampant.

Norah motioned that I should lie down and, a little reluctantly, I did so. She moved her head down to my crotch and began to lick the head of my penis. I felt a little uncomfortable and sat up; she was once again very perceptive and asked me if I wanted her to stop. I mumbled something noncommittal and she took me into to her arms. It felt wonderful being embraced by a naked woman. “Here,” she said, grabbing my hand and placing it on her hairy vulva. “Do you feel how wet I am? You’re really turning me on!” She giggled. I felt around, gingerly, with my fingers. She was indeed very wet. I had no idea what I was feeling down there but it seemed nice enough. Tentatively, I bent down and kissed one of her breasts. She giggled again. “Want to suck them?” I did. Once I began to get into it in earnest, alternately licking and sucking one erect nipple as I cupped the other in my hand, Norah started to breathe a little faster. Finally she said, “I want you inside me!” My heart skipped a beat, but I figured, in for a penny, in for a pound. Norah laid me back down again and clambered on top of me. She guided my erection into her and began to rock back and forth.