I was an only child. Dad was an attorney for one of those multi-name places, something like Smith, Smith, and Jones. Never quite knew what he really did, that is what an attorney does, I just knew he left in the morning and usually was home for dinner. Weekends he played golf, went fishing, things like that. Never with Mom. They seemed to have very separate lives.
Mom didn't work, not sure if it was all her choice or not. She cleaned and took care of the house. As a child, I didn't understand that it was a 'nice' house, I always thought everyone lived in a house like ours. Doesn't every family with 3 people live in a house with 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, pool, and 3 car garage? Mom didn't just 'clean' the house once a week. No, she had a schedule. Vacuum every day at 9:30, dust at 1:00, do the laundry at 3:00, iron as soon as the clothes came out of the dryer, everything in the refrigerator neatly lined up, all cans in the pantry with the labels facing forward. You get the idea. Let's just say she had some 'issues', some would say 'compulsive', but that didn't really very come close.
Growing up I was not allowed to have friends come over and I never got to spend the night at their house. Maybe 'friends' is stretching the truth a little, actually I got to play with the girl across the street some, maybe a twice a week. I had to stay home and read, practice the piano, study, no team sports, and of course clean my room. I was not a 'smart' student, but with effort, I got my share of A's, but mostly B's, a few C's. Anything less and I was in deep 'do do'. Quaint phrase 'do do'. I got into a lot of trouble if I ever said anything as foul as 'darn' and 'damn' was strictly forbidden. I said 'shit' once, and only once. Boy was my bottom red after that slip of the tongue.
Mom and Dad slept in separate bedrooms, rarely touched or kissed, at least in front of me or others, probably even when they were alone. I even wondered at times if they had even seen each other undressed. I had seen pictures of Mom when she was a teenager and she was a knock out, long brown hair, great face, slim, long legs, you know - stunning. I could tell why Dad fell for her. Looking at her now though, quite a change. Probably near 300 pounds, butch hair cut, dangling skin under the arms. Almost felt sorry for Dad at times.
While not religious when they met or even when they married, Mom became a deeply religious person and went to church several times a week. Dad wasn't at all religious, ever, and I guess that, plus her appearance, had a lot to do with the separate bedrooms. Her standard answer for why I couldn't do something was "the Lord wouldn't like that." Once when she caught me touching myself, I must have been about 12, she spanked me harder than she had ever spanked me and told me that "I would go straight to hell." That put the fear of God in me. When I was 14 and had given into the temptation to touch myself for the first time since I'd been punished before. I found what looked like blood in my white underwear, never allowed to have any pretty underwear, the next day and went crying to Mom. I was afraid it was God's punishment for what I'd done. Mom told me that I was correct which upset me greatly, to say the least. She went on to tell me that this was God's gift to women so their husbands would leave them alone for a week a month. Let's just say my head was all messed up after that when it came to anything about sex.
Boyfriends? HA! My first one was in my junior year of high school. Mom always told me that boys were nasty and wanted to hurt me with their penis. I didn't think she would lie to me and I believed her. I walked to school, maybe a mile, usually a nice time to be alone with my thoughts. Johnny was new to the neighborhood and we happened to walk along the same street, about the same time. We would talk about homework. He didn't seem to be 'nasty'. I didn't ever tell Mom about walking with him, seemed better that way. It all started slowly, one day he held my hand, another he put his hand around my waist. It all fell nice, like things I'd read in books, things I'd assumed I would do one day. Surely not something Mom and Dad ever did though.
One afternoon we detoured through a park between school and home, sat on a bench, talked about nothing much, held hands. He leaned over and kissed me. I kissed back. If someone had seen us, it probably would have been obvious that we didn't know anything about kissing. Our kiss was mostly just lips against lips, more of a peck. I knew that if he put his tongue in my mouth I would have a baby and I didn't want that. Something I'd learned from my Mom. Anyway, his tongue in my mouth, yuck, dirty.
Johnny pulled a magazine out of his back pack. "Karen. Look what I found in my Dad's bedroom."
On the cover was a naked man and woman kissing. It was the first time I'd ever seen such a thing. I didn't know if I should run away and tell Mom, but something made me want to look inside. I took it from Johnny and flipped though the pages. Page after page of pictures of women and men showing their naked bodies, I mean everything, and sometimes they were even 'doing it' too, right there in the pictures actually 'doing it'.
I stared at a picture of a man with what I thought must be a huge penis sticking straight out. I didn't know they did that and I surely didn't know how big they were, or if it was really 'big'. Of course my Mom would have never told me about such things and I sure had never seen my Dad undressed. For all I knew, he didn't even have a penis. These men were touching themselves, some had women touching it too.
"Does yours get like that?" I asked.
"Yup." He took my hand and put it over his pants. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, but assumed it was like in the picture. He unzipped his pants and pulled it out.
"Put it back! Someone will see us."
He pulled on my hand, trying to get me to touch it. I screamed, got up and ran all the way home. Didn't tell Mom, but that was the last time I was alone with Johnny.
The summer before my senior year, I spent everyday at the library reading college catalogs, dreaming of big buildings, grassy quadrangles, living in a dorm, and learning all kinds of new things in my classes. Had no ideas about what other things I might learn about. So naive. I just knew that I wanted to be away from home, that there was a bigger world out there waiting for me. Good old Mom of course would remind me of how evil boys were and how I'd have to shower naked in front of other girls. I just tried to ignore her. Thinking about being around other naked girls didn't seem to upset me at all.
It was a toss up between UC Berkeley and Tulane in New Orleans. I flipped a coin and chose Tulane. Both were big and and full of more freedom than I was probably ready for, I just knew I was ready.
I was surprised when my Dad offered to teach me to drive during my senior year. On Sundays, he and I would go on long drives while Mom was at church. I was a careful, cautious, safe driver. Of course, after growing up in a 'don't take chances kid of home', what else would you expect?. After a few months I even got my real drivers license. Dad bought me a used car and I had my first taste of freedom, well kind of, since I was not allowed to be out after dark.
A few weeks following my high school graduation, Dad came home with dreadful news. He had been laid off. While he was confident that he could quickly find another job, maybe even go into practice by himself for a while, Mom and Dad were concerned about money. They asked me to go to the community college for now, maybe for 2 years. I was so deflated, so depressed. Two more stupid years of living at home. After I started my first year, he did find a new job, I guess even better it seemed. But noooo, they made me stay on at the community college for the whole 2 years. God did those 2 years drag by. I kept the admission office at Tulane up to date with my status so I could start there in my junior year.
Late August was hot and steamy as I packed my car with a few things and headed off for New Orleans. Hello world, here I come. Free at last, thank God almighty free at last!
Dorm life was impossible in a different kind of way from living with my parents. I was stuffed into a room, kind of big, with 3 other girls, one junior, one freshman, and one sophomore and 2 bunk beds. The last thing they wanted to do was study. Mostly non-stop talk about boys, sex, drinking, and what to me was just senseless talk. They all had really foul mouths, 'fuck this', 'fuck that'. Rarely a sentence without a few unnecessary 'fuck' and 'shit' sprinkled in. In a blink of an eye, Mom would've had a bar of Lifebuoy soap in each mouth.
One afternoon I came back after a class to find Janet with her boyfriend Rob on top of her, having sex, like bunnies, whatever that was like, just an expression I'd read once. I shut the door, not hard though, thinking that might stop them, it didn't. I sat on my bed and watched. This was the first time I'd ever actually seen someone having any kind of sex, other than the pictures in Johnny's magazine for a few minutes. They didn't seem to mind or even know I was watching. Not knowing I was there seemed far fetched to me. I even moved around on my bed for a better view. They kept on 'doing it'. She was saying things to him like "slide your cock in my pussy" and "love it when your balls slap against my ass". Rob would tell her "love your wet pussy" and "you're so tight around my cock". I could never in a million years imagine my parents ever doing anything like this, specially saying things like that. I almost broke out laughing at the thought of Mom even whispering the word 'cock' and having sex at the same time. I was really fascinated with the action in front of me.
Don't know why, I'd only touched myself a few times before, but I found my fingers touching inside my underwear, rubbing up and down, as his penis, his cock, moved in and out of her vagina, her pussy. I kept correcting the words in my mind as I thought them. The more I watched, the more I listened to them talk, the more I liked the feeling of touching myself. It felt good, but I didn't know what happened if I did it 'too long'. I had never even done it 'long' either. I didn't even mind hearing those words. 'Sexy words' I thought to myself. I repeated them to myself. 'wet pussy', 'beautiful cunt', 'ass', 'tit'.
Rob stopped, moved between his face between her legs, and began kissing her vagina, no her 'pussy', yes her 'wet pussy', her 'very wet pussy'. How does she get wet? Do guys really do that? I guess so, at least he was kissing her 'down there'. What does it taste like? I pulled a finger from between my legs and sucked it. Not bad. Not bad at all. Do all girls, no, do all women taste the same?
"Kiss my clit. Oh YES like that. ... Oh I'm about to cum. Finger fuck me harder. Ahh." she went on and on then she stiffened her body for a moment, then went limp. "Baby, that was a great orgasm you just gave me. Almost as good as Jill does."
Orgasm? What's that? I was very lacking in my knowledge about sex, probably pretty obvious. What was this about Jill? She was one of the roommates. Do girls have sex with each other too? How? My curiosity was surely peaked now.
