It was 1976. Jimmy Carter was president. Rocky ruled at the box office. Disco was in its heyday. We all watched Happy Days, Charley's Angels, and (my favorite) One Day At A Time. Dream Weaver played on every radio and I can't even count the number of nights that I cried myself to sleep with Eric Carmen's All By Myself going through my head.
It was also a time when nearly all of the girls in our high school were virgins. In this day and age that almost sounds unbelievable, I know. However, this was in a time before nudity was all over cable television and the world wide web was a fantasy better left for an episode of The Jetsons. It was a much more innocent time for teenagers and I'm so sorry that we have allowed that to slip away.
I was a senior in high school in 1976. That meant that I knew everything in the world - even if my parents were too stupid to see it. I mean, why did they insist on treating me like some bratty little kid? I was eighteen years old and I was ready to become a woman.
You would never guess it to look at me now, but I was once a perky little thing that just couldn't wait for each new day to begin. I stood all of five foot-one and weighed just a shade under one hundred pounds. Cellulite, stretch marks, and wide hips were things that I wouldn't have even given a moment's thought to.
I wasn't in the popular crowd, but I wasn't one of the nerdy types either. I was part of that much larger group that tried to make it through each day without calling any attention to myself whatsoever.
What a confusing time of life that was! One part of me wanted to look and act so cool that everyone would take notice. The other part of me lived in fear that, if I did call that kind of attention to myself, then everyone was sure to see that I was such a fraud and they would all know just how weird I was. God, I really wouldn't want to go through all of that again!
My boyfriend's name was William Paulson. Billy was on the swim team and had the most gorgeous body that any girl could ever hope for. I still wouldn't have said no if Peter Frampton (with those amazing curls and dreamy eyes) could somehow step down out of the poster hanging on my wall, but Billy was more than enough to warm my blood every time that I looked at him.
And I used to be able to look at him plenty. I never missed one of his swim meets. I could never take my eyes off of that chiseled physique and those sexy buns wrapped up in that tiny speedo. My girlfriends used to tease me unmercifully, but I was secretly happy that they also found him to be a real hunk.
The extent of our sexual explorations were pretty typical of the times β We made out every chance that we could. During these necking sessions, Billy would try his hardest to push me a little further than he knew I would allow and it was my job to stop him before things got too far out of control. It would always make me feel so bad to see that look of disappointment in his eyes when I would call a halt to things. The truth was that I wanted to let him go further, but my catholic guilt always held me back. It was especially difficult when I could feel his erection pressing through the fabric of his jeans.
Simple kissing had given way to roaming hands and then to his hand slipping beneath my shirt. I can still (after all these years) remember the first time that Billy touched my breasts. I had stopped him from doing this on several occasions, but that night I had made up my mind that, if he tried again, I would let him.
That night we had gone to the movies to see Return of The Pink Panther. For the life of me, I could still not tell you one thing that I remember from that movie. The whole night, the only thing that I could concentrate on was what was to come later when we would be alone in his car out by the lake.
After the movie finally ended, Billy suggested a couple of discos that we could go to. I felt like such a little whore when I told him that I would rather go someplace more private. It still makes me laugh to remember the look on his face when I made that suggestion. He drove that old Bel Air station wagon like he was Mario Andretti!
My heart was pounding in my chest as we came to a stop at the lake and scrambled into the back. Our hormones were so far out of control that it is a wonder that we even let the car come to a complete stop before we were all over each other. Within minutes the windows were steamed over and we were locked in a heavy makeout session.
I kept wondering if Billy would try to touch my breast again. Maybe he wouldn't and I would be the one who wound up disappointed this time.
Oh, God! What would I do then?
Luckily, Billy didn't disappoint me in the least. He slowly crept his hand up my side and let it cover my tiny breast. It may have been my imagination, but I could swear that he held his breath while he waited to see if I would move his hand away. When I didn't, he began to tenderly rub me through the material of my blouse and bra. I felt like such a dirty girl, but it also felt so heavenly at the same time.
So, I was young, had a wonderful boyfriend, and I had a whole world of sexual pleasure to yet explore. It all sounds pretty perfect, doesn't it? Unfortunately, there was only one major drawback. Billy was one year ahead of me in school. That meant that during my senior year of high school he was away at college. Instead of this being the most wonderful year of my life, I was brokenhearted, miserable, and a general pain in the butt.
My girlfriends were absolutely no help at all. I don't think there is any creature on earth that can be crueler than a teenaged girl. They were all quick to point out how many beautiful and easy college girls that Billy was sure to be hanging around with. I tried not to let them see how much that bothered me, but I felt that I was always on the verge of tears.
Finally, it was time for Billy to come home for Christmas break. I couldn't wait to see him and to be with him again! If he had changed and didn't want to see me anymore, I would just die!
I needn't have worried. Billy was just as excited to see me as I was to see him. I just wanted to jump up and down and scream for joy. You couldn't have wiped the smile off of my face for anything in the world. I just couldn't wait to be alone with him!
Luckily, there is no force in the universe that is greater than two horny teenagers that have been apart for four long months. It just happened that Billy's parents were going out that night for an office Christmas party. We were locked at the lips and stumbling towards his bedroom before their car even cleared the driveway.
I could feel his erection through his jeans as soon as we sprawled across the bed. Our hips ground against each others and I thought for certain that my lips were going to be bruised as we sought to devour each other.
It wasn't long before I felt Billy slip his hand beneath the front of my t-shirt. This had become part of our normal routine and I made no move to stop him. I wanted to melt when I felt his hand cover my bra-clad breast. I knew that I was built really small. I dearly wished that I had been more amply endowed like some of my other classmates. However, if Billy was disappointed, he never let on. I moaned deeply as he pushed the cup aside and his fingers began to play with my aching nipple.
When we had collapsed onto the bed I had settled on my right side and my right arm had been trapped between our writhing bodies. Somewhere along the line, Billy had shifted his body and I suddenly felt his erection pressing against the back of my hand through his jeans.
I knew that I should have furtively pulled my hand away. However, this was something entirely new to me. Instead of withdrawing my hand, I decided to be a little hussy. I simply turned my hand around so that my palm was now filled with his straining bulge. This was the first time that I had ever touched Billy (or any other boy) in such a way and I was more excited than I had ever been in my whole life.
After a few minutes of Billy grinding his erection into my palm, I felt him slip his hand from beneath my t-shirt. I instantly missed the feel of his hand on me, but at least I had this whole new experience to content myself with.
I soon found out why Billy had removed his hand from inside my shirt as his fingers started to fumble with the button of my jeans. This snapped me back to my senses quick enough! Even with as fast as I had reacted, Billy had already easily opened the top of my jeans and was pulling at the material to make my zipper slide down. I quickly broke our kiss and grabbed his hand with both of mine
"No, Billy," I managed to croak.
A look of deep disappointment crossed his face as I once again made him stop way before he had hoped. I desperately wanted him to resume our makeout session, but the mood had been destroyed. Instead, he laid down beside me and we just talked. He told me all about the amazing things that he was doing at college. I tried to tell him about the latest news from high school, but I was acutely aware of how much this made me seem like a little girl.