Better Late Than Never

This is a true story. It is a sort of coming-of-age story although it happened when I was a few months past my 31st birthday. At the time I had never had sex and, carrying my past demons and my mother's Victorian mores, had no idea as to whether or not it would ever happen. I was the wallflower's wallflower, having absolutely no clue as to how to approach girls/women.

I realize this story might seem silly to some, especially as the vast majority of adults in our society have their first sex experience quite readily much earlier in life, but it will illustrate the lengths to which we human beings sometimes will go to sabotage ourselves for no explainable reason.

I thus hope that the story has a teaching function beyond the mere sexual aspect and can show that no matter how old we are, we can learn how to overcome our demons and other past influences and deal effectively with certain problems that have seemed to have no viable solutions.

Of note: The names of all people in the story have been changed, but the rest of the story is pretty much as I tell it. Since I had this experience almost 40 years ago, I cannot remember all the exact conversations and event sequences as they took place then. I will do my best to do so, but if I cannot, what I put down will surely capture the essence of the moment.

*

Back in early 1973 I was 31 years old, in group therapy with a number of other young and middle-aged adults. It became apparent that I was the only one in the group who had not had a sexual experience beyond simple kissing and who did not have any semblance of a grasp on the dating process. One of the foremost questions in my mind still was "How does a person 'get' sex"—as if some magic words were said, and a woman would agree to do it with you. I had no idea of the human element of relationships, let alone sexual encounters.

In fact, in high school, college, and even professional school I just had no idea how relationships happened, how a girl became a guy's girlfriend, etc. And of course I encountered the bullshitting done by guys, especially in the dorms I lived in, regarding how many girls they were fucking, and I just felt inferior and completely helpless. What were they doing that I wasn't?

(Well, for one thing, they were asking girls out and going on dates; however, my mind just conveniently skipped over this fact because of my magic thinking above, as well as my constant lapses into self-pity.)

Anyway, one day Maureen, the facilitator of the group, asked that I have a one-on-one private appointment with her. At that appointment she suggested that in order to gain some sexual experience, I go up to one of the Nevada ranches and have a sexual encounter with one of the prostitutes there. After all, said Maureen, these women had, among other things, a teaching function, and they could utilize their sexual experience to help me out in this area in a very non-threatening way.

What went through my mind was the typical BS evasive mind-fuck game I had become used to playing on myself, namely, that the women would probably find some way to turn me away, to say no, just as a lot of other girls and women had done when I even tried to ask them out. I told Maureen that I was afraid of this, and she said again that the women at these places are there to teach and would have nothing to gain by turning me away. Maureen also added that when I would choose one of the prostitutes, I would need to inform her that it was my first time. Despite my fear of the woman laughing at me about this, this bit of advice made quite a bit of sense to me—and as it turned out, it was right on the money.

(By the way, I mention, in passing, that another fear I had was that I wouldn't be able to ejaculate and thus would subject myself to the woman's laughing at me just as many other people in my life had done when I made a fool out of myself.)

I went home, though, and thought things over and, despite some of the above fears (and some others) swirling around in my head, decided to go ahead and do it. I made the plane reservations for the following week and subsequently flew up to Reno, Nevada. With Maureen's support I felt enough courage and thus made the decision to go through with it.

2

It was about 10 a.m. on a nice spring morning in May 1973 when I got off the plane in Reno. After checking into my hotel, I got into a cab and told the cabbie what I wanted to do. Since the county Reno is in didn't allow prostitution, he took me into a neighboring county. He knew exactly where I wanted to go as he got may requests to be taken "over the bridge, east of Sparks." Of course I didn't tell him what had prompted my trip, but anyway soon he pulled into the parking lot at the ranch and told me that he would wait, and then when I was through, he would take me back into Reno.

I rang the bell, and after I entered the main room, a number of women appeared in line, each one saying her name. I picked a cute short, thin dark-haired woman named Annie. On the way back to her room, I told her, as planned, that it was my first time. Her reply—and I remember it as clearly today as I did then—was "I am glad you told me." (Maureen was right!!) This helped me relax a bit as we went back to her room.

When we got there, I sat on the bed while Annie washed up in the sink, and then she examined my genitals for any sores or other indication of VD (venereal disease). See, at that time the AIDS epidemic hadn't hit, so the only sexually transmitted diseases of concern were syphilis and gonorrhea.

When I passed that test, we agreed on a price. Annie then sucked on my dick for about a minute or so, getting it good and hard, and then she climbed on top (reverse missionary) and guided my dick into her vagina. In fact, I remember her saying, "You're in." The feeling was a bit weird, a sort of spongy feeling, as her vaginal walls grabbed my dick, but I felt a joy that I can't begin to describe.

A few minutes later I could feel myself come. Thus my fear of inability to ejaculate had gone by the boards. I was NORMAL!!! Soon thereafter Annie climbed off and then lay back and said something like, "How would you like to eat some pussy now?" She said it in a very gentle, calm way, and although I was eager to do it, at the time I didn't like her saying the word "pussy." (I just didn't like the reference to the female genital area as "pussy".) I would have preferred something like, "Would you like to eat me?"

Anyway, I didn't let it bother me. Annie started to point out the clit as the most sensitive part, but with my experience of watching porn, I knew pretty much where to go. After about 30 seconds Annie said supportively, "You really know a lot about this, don't you!!" I really enjoyed eating her; in fact, that became my preferred form of sex when I got married a few years later.

After the oral sex session, Annie lay on her back, and we had sex in the regular missionary position. This time my dick was hard enough to insert into Annie's vagina without any oral sex by her. In not too long a time, I came again.

At this point Annie told me my time was up, but we could do more if I paid more money. However, I decided not to have any more sex as I had really had enough by then. I felt quite happy inside, though, and tipped her plenty.

On the cab ride back I felt quite thrilled inside although, of course, I didn't feel comfortable sharing my inner experience and inner feelings with a stranger. After I got back to the hotel, though, I was overcome by euphoria. At the blackjack table I could hardly concentrate. I went over to the nearest phone and called Maureen and told her the good news. I could barely contain myself as I shared my joy with her.

At the next group therapy meeting, the other members were happy to hear the good news and gave me encouragement for the future.

The experience with Annie gave me a good outlook for the future sexually as she was so encouraging and helped me in ways that I just couldn't express. I felt quite grateful that my first sexual encounter, which I had long feared, was a dynamite experience after which I felt much hope for the future sex-wise.