We have many firsts in our lives. Our first kiss, our first drink, our first date or for some of us our first marriage. Fortunately or unfortunately depending upon the outcome, we can get past these little vignettes of life and continue on our merry way. Sometimes we are able to get past our initial disappointments and muddle on. Sometimes, these first times are just a warning of things to come.
My first cigarette should have been a warning. I got dizzy and threw up. My first drunk had a similar outcome which was only exacerbated by the ungodly hangover the next day. My first "piece of ass" was nearly a disaster as well. Fortunately it happened in the back seat of my dad's 1960 Oldsmobile on a double date. God, I miss bench seats! I say fortunately because my buddy was there to advise me to turn the young vixen over so I could find her vagina. It seems "piece of ass" wasn't meant to be taken literally. I was 16 how was I to know? The outcome of that peccadillo was a tad different. I was dizzy and she threw up. God was obviously warning me I was doomed to go through life either dizzy or throwing up and sometimes both.
My first marriage resulted in both of us striving to be dizzy and throwing up.
But the first that really stays in my mind was the first time my wife, meu caro, and I made love. Now some of you may need a bit of background here. My wife is a beautiful lady from a faraway land. No, not Uranus, bunghole! A Latin American country. She is short, only 154 cm which is about 5 feet tall for you non-metric types. She has lovely cinnamon skin, long black hair and is an incredible hottie for being in her late thirties with 3 children. We have been married for a while now but it very nearly didn't come to pass.
You see, she had a lot of misconceptions about North American men. First, she thought we were rich. I wasn't. She thought we were tall. I wasn't. She thought we were good-looking and, well, you can guess. And she thought we all liked to have lots of marriages and she wasn't about to be one of a string of several! I had asked why she thought this. She informed me that she had never met an American man which had not been married at least three times! I hadn't. So, there I was: 4 for 4! And lastly, she thought we were all lousy lovers. Hmmmmm
I was able to overcome most of her preconceptions eventually. But dispelling that last one nearly ended a beautiful relationship. As I remember, we had just returned to my rented apartment from a night of dinner and dancing. (The curse was still on me, however. The dinner made me throw up and the dancing got me dizzy. Sucks to be me!)
As we talked over coffee, very strong and black, Mr. Suave and Debonair here managed to finesse her into my boudoir. Here I prepared to give her the fucking of her life. As she lay on my big ass bed, I mean my big brass bed; I did my best imitation of Sean Connery from the movie Diamonds Are Forever. I had stepped away and taken off my clothes. I was watching her, expecting her eyes to be glazed over with wanton lust. She looked at me quizzically.
For those of you who have seen the movie, this was the part where I, being Bond, would walk to the light switch and say "I suppose I am the condemned man and you are the hearty breakfast?" And she, in the Tiffany Case role, would say "Why, there is so much more to you than I expected!"
I said my line on cue and flipped off the light. Lady, get ready for a trip to heaven, I thought! Once I finish with you, you will throw rocks at other men! In the blackness, I made my way to the bed and was just crawling in when a small voice said "Can you turn the light back on?"
Okay, no problemo, I thought. She just liked doing it with the lights on. Hot damn! Kinky little thing! I made my way back to the switch.
"Fuck, shit, hell, damn!" I hissed
"What happened?"
I flicked up the switch and bathed the room in light. "Nothing I just stubbed my toe on the table" I looked over at her and noticed the same quizzical expression on her face. What the hell was she looking at? Her head looked one way and then shifted to the other all the while staring at my navel. Then I realized that she was looking at my cock! Looking isn't the right word. Evaluating? Appraising?
"It's called a cock in my country, dearest. You were married. Surely you have seen one before." I said, somewhat jocularly, always trying to put the best light on things.
She continued to stare at my nether regions her head cocking from side to side. The action reminded me of my sister's cocker spaniel, no pun intended. "Darling, you were in the Army, right?" she asked.
"Yes. Why?"
"Were you wounded?" she asked with innocent concern.
"Yes. That is this scar here." I replied pointing out a puckered scar in the meaty part of my shoulder. "I was shot during a light recon but managed to live through it", I smiled manfully. Did she really need to know that my buddy had accidentally shot me while unloading his weapon before clearing it?
"No, I mean..." she gestured to my scrotum. "lower down."
I was beginning to get dizzy. Could nausea be far behind?
"No, why?" I replied in a somewhat hurt voice.
