First Sexual Experience

No matter how well you think you might know someone you can't possibly know about all the skeletons that might haunt their closet. This is one of mine.

My first sexual experience of any kind happened many years ago when I was 18 years old. To that point I really didn't even think about boys in a sexual way at all. There were guys that I found cute but the notion of sex was pretty much lost on me. Really any notion of sex that I did have seemed like something only married people took part in; perhaps I was naive. I lived with both my parents who provided a very loving environment for me and my older brother to grow up in.

We had it all in a suburban colloquial cliche kind of way; a big house, a pool in the backyard, a safe neighbourhood and attentive parents. Attentive when they were around at least, both worked to support the said cliche.

Continuing in the theme of typical, Greg, older by three years almost to the day was 21 when this story unfolds. Greg had a lot of friends growing up but I can't say that he was particularly popular but he certainly wasn't a "loser" either. I always looked up to him but we weren't friend siblings. We really didn't hang out all unless mandated by mom to take a tag-along, he never invited me anywhere.

I was in grade 12 and for me it was much like grade 11 and my life to that point: uneventful. Using one word to effectively sum up the way I was feeling with myself, uneventful was it. I'm not sure if I was depressed or what but I just wasn't feeling anything. I didn't like going to school, I wasn't popular and popular was something that I wanted to be. Somebody probably should have told me that being good at ballet and math, being nice to people and liking my teachers wouldn't add up to being the queen of the ball. Really I didn't even need to be the queen but

I hated it when the other kids made fun of me. Growing up also didn't help as I became pretty self conscious in horrible ways. I spent many evening behind locked doors staring at mirrors hoping the somehow the person staring back would look different.

I certainly wasn't ugly, adults would always tell me how pretty I looked but that was the problem people my age didn't. I was always too thin and my breasts didn't grow to mammoth sizes. Top that off with the glasses and the figurative pocket protector meant I had no need for a stick to rid myself of the unwanted, and wanted, advances.

I stayed busy with my dance classes as I really enjoyed them. As a result most of my friends were from dance class and not school. I think I looked like typical, I was very skinny, had brown hair that I often had in a ponytail and grey eyes which take on reflections to appear as different colours depends on the light.

Coming home from school one day I noticed Greg messing around behind the TV.

"What're you doing? I wanna watch something."

"Not now Michelle. Go upstairs." Frustration was obvious on his face.

"Well, that was rude."

"Yeah, I'm not in the mood Michelle, so don't bother me."

"You don't have to be an asshole about it ya know. Just tell me what you're doing."

"It's a cable box. I got it from my friend. Now go away?"

"Whadaya mean a cable box? We already got one."

"Look, I'll tell you but you have to keep your mouth shut, ok?"

"Who would I tell?" I said faking innocence for ever being one to tell on anymore.

"Just don't tell mom, ok?"

"Mom? What about dad?" I was puzzled by the noninclusive request.

"Dad already knows, it was working earlier and I showed him."

Now I was really intrigued. What could he possibly have that dad could know about but not mom? Our father, a high school principal, was never one to trifle with discipline. I was little miss innocent but Greg was constantly on the receiving end of a lecture. What could have possibly brought them together against the highest power in the household?

"It unscrambles the pay channels." Greg informed me in a matter of fact sort of way while he continued to play with the settings.

"And dad is ok with this?"

"I showed him how it worked and all the pay per view channels that he could be watching sort of lighted his stance. He just said don't let your mom find out. So that goes for you now too. Michelle you hearing me?"

This was actually the first lapse in morality that I noticed from either of my parents. I guess they drank too, but never to become violent or ill-tempered so that was never a problem. But this was a different sort of morality, this was stealing and dad was fine with it. I never imagined.

"Well, you hear me?" He asked again as I had zoned out as I have a tendency to do when confronted with confusing thoughts.

"Yeah, I won't tell. I promise."

"Yes! It's working!" Whatever he was doing it seemed to have worked and the scrabbled screen became clear.

I suppose I should note at the risk of dating myself that this was a time before digital cable. To order a movie on pay per view you would call a phone number.

Once I got past my own moral dilemma I really liked the new cable box. I was able to watch any new release any time I wanted without having to go to the video store. It did look like a normal cable box so mom never thought anything about it.

Like all cliches ours was one of outward appearances. I was unhappy in my day to day life with my dance class as my only refuge. My brother continued to get yelled at, at least three times a week. He wasn't really doing anything with his life and didn't seem to care. He worked, in what my parents considered, a dead end and not showing the ambition they expected. Their fights would really scare me. I hated when they would yell at him but he would never allow me to provide him any comfort. Whenever I went to talk to him about it he would just tell me to screw off or something similar and sometimes less polite. I still looked up to him.

His habits and ambitions didn't change and their arguments continued in much the same way it. For whatever reason it made me sensitive toward him, like he was being ganged up on and it wasn't fair. Although he paid almost no attention to me I would sort of have mini-panics when he returned home after being gone for a few days. There was always a sense that this drama could be the last and that made me sad.

The first time I noticed I didn't know what to make of it. The floorboard creaked as someone was creeping across them. It couldn't be an intruder the sound started upstairs. I say up in my bed and listened before drifting off to sleep. Soon I was hearing these muffled sounds almost nightly. It didn't take me long to realize someone going very slowly down the hardwood stairs and I knew that someone was my Greg. Neither of my parents would have felt the need to sneak in their own home.

"But why is he sneaking?" I thought to myself trying to listen even harder until there was nothing left to hear.

I had no idea what he was doing, if he was leaving the house, if he was doing something he shouldn't have, all I knew was that it was a secret. And if I knew anything it was that a secret is something interesting. So each night I would try to stay up late just to hear him go downstairs. Mostly I would just fall asleep waiting, but other times I was sure that I heard him. I just had to know what was going on and I resolved in my mind to figure it out. For that, I would have to follow him.

An endeavour like the one I was proposing was going to take guts. Getting caught was not an option. Getting caught would mean I would never know and my curiosity would never forgive me. It was time to put all those dancing lessons to work. If I ever had the motivation to move on point this was it.

"Ok Michelle tonight is the night." I said to myself over and over to pick up my resolve.

"Don't chicken out, don't chicken out, don't chicken out. If you do, you will never know. You won't get caught. You are as light as a cat and twice as sleek. You are following him tonight."

I would have these long almost conversations with myself each time I fought sleep long enough to hear him sneak. With rising bravado just to get to my door and then run back in retreat to the protecting comfort of my bed. There I would talk myself to sleep too nervous to think fully formed thoughts. All this worry really without any clue as to what was going on; there was something about it that just told me it was juicy.

"Tonight is different. Tonight is not a test run. You are getting past that door."

The doorway was the barrier, which once past, I knew I was going all the way. Slow, quiet steps took me halfway down the stairs; I knew there was no turning back. So slow my toes barely touched down, it probably took 20 minutes to get to the bottom of the stair. Time well spent; not a single creak.

"What is going on? I know he didn't leave. I would have heard the door open."

I felt scared. I felt like maybe he was watching me. The house seemed completely dark and no sign or Greg. I slowly stealthed into the main living room; completely dark. The moonlight cast long shadows of the lampshades which was enough to scare me on a normal night and this was no normal night.

"Relax Michelle, relax." I said to myself in a low mumble.

I was so nervous that I wasn't even thinking.

"What if he jumps out at me?"

I knew that he had to be somewhere I had heard him go down the stairs at least twenty times now.

"What if it wasn't Greg?" The paranoid half crazy thought flashed in my head.

Satisfied with search I was sure he wasn't on the main floor, but there was still the basement. I felt ominous as I peered down the dark steps to notice dim light coming from under the door.

The basement was our primary TV room, we had a TV in the main living room, but the one in the basement always got the most use. This was the TV Greg hooked the cable box of ill-gotten movies to. Our basement was split into four parts: there was the laundry room, my dad's work room, a living room and a room that connected the three. The living room had a door that we never shut, except it was shut that night. The light coming from under the door left me with an eerie feeling and the feeling that my stomach was about to jump through my throat.

All my pep talks must have taken root somewhere deep in my brain and, almost as if on automatic, I gave no second thought to not opening the door. I had come this far and that door was opening.

With just a little push of the door I must have sent Greg 10 feet into the air.

"Michelle!!???" Looking as if he just saw a ghost he annunciated through grinding teeth.

By the time he settled, he was sitting on the sofa, fully clothed, watching what appeared to be a dirty movie. Well it didn't just appear to be it was a full porno. I think he thought it was our parents opening the door. He still looked positively frightened.

"Yelp" I thought to myself making the appropriate utterance.

He gathered his wits realizing it was me and turned to damage control.

"BE QUIET!" he said in the loudest most urgent whisper that I have ever heard. I was in a state of shock and said nothing. I stood on the carpet frozen in my socks.

"You're going to be in trouble Greg." My inner brat reminded him of just who he was dealing with.

"No, I won't, because you are not going to tell!" he whispered back with no loss of urgency.

The movie on the screen wasn't lost on me. I had never seen an erect penis before, never in books, never in movies and obviously never in real life. It had stolen some of my attention and the shock couldn't have been more profound. The thing looked absolutely huge, like it shouldn't have been attached to anyone. The girl was putting it in and out of her mouth. I simply couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"Michelle! Go to bed." The words broke my trance.

Still in full brat mode, "You're not allowed to watch this Greg. I'm so telling on you."

In retrospect it may have been insurance to keep me from telling, but nevertheless Greg told me, "Michelle, sit down and don't say anything and you can watch too."

This was an invitation. An invitation from my older brother to take part. With that, I sat on the carpet in front of the TV and started watching.

I don't remember what the movie was even about. The plot may have not made sense even if I watched from the start. That's the other thing, porn movies still had plots back then; ridiculous plots but plots. I suppose it didn't matter anyway, what I do remember quite well is that I saw sex for the first time. It wasn't that graphic but it certainly wasn't late night cable either, this was a real porno.

"Eeewwhhh, eeesshhh" I said softly peaking my eye out from behind my parted fingers.

I spent a lot of it with my eyes covered, that made me feel as if nobody could see me. The girls had such big boobs which intimidated me and did no wonders for my already shaky self-esteem. Almost as quickly as it started it seemed, the movie was over.

"Michelle...Mich-elle," Greg tried to get me out of one of my trances, "you go upstairs first and don't make any noise. I will come up after. If mom or dad wakes up say that you are just up to get a glass of water. Do you got that? A glass of water."

"Yeah, I get it."

Nobody caught me, I was quiet as a cat again. In my bed I was actually trembling. The next morning was as if nothing had happened. Greg didn't even give me a nod of acknowledgement. I thought that I was in on this big secret but there was nothing not even a hint that things were different; that I was cool enough to be in it with him. The

next few nights I listened again but didn't hear anything and eventually went to sleep.

For over a week not a creaking stair and I didn't know what to think. I figured that Greg was mad at me and that I, like our parents, was against him too. I spent my nights sitting up in my bed on pins and needles waiting for the sound. Until one night I heard movement again, I was elated and tried not to over-think it too much. I put on my socks and got ready to sneak downstairs once again.

The truth is, I wanted to see the movies but I didn't have the guts to just go down by myself. Greg offered me some form of protection and as bad as it is to say I figured that if we got caught he would be the only one in trouble.

Nevertheless getting caught still scared me to no end.

"Mich-elle, what are you doing here?" His eyes pleaded with my to take a hint.

But he didn't tell me to leave and he didn't put up a fight when I took my place on the carpet. He sat on the sofa behind me and seemed at peace with tolerating my presence. The sex once again flashed across the screen. My eyes took more and more of it as I spent less and less time behind closed fingers.

I didn't go down every time I heard him, as he went much more often than I did, but every now and then I would join him. With some practice it didn't take me so long to get down. My sneaking skills were likely cat burglar diamond thief worthy; much better than Greg's. I don't think I ever made a noise and I went down quite a few times but never by myself.

Once there was some familiarity he actually seemed to like me being there, it seemed like a way we were connecting as friends. I don't think we had ever connected before in that way. It was always mean older brother and annoying little sister with us. It's strange how being partners in crime, being part of a deviance together, can create a bond.

I was really becoming more ashamed of my body. I think one can only look at so many surgically enhanced boobs without feeling at least bit inadequate. Almost being 19, my 34b'was all that I was ever going to have. I was still very skinny but my hips we sort of wide giving me a feminine look. But I was probably the only one that really noticed that, at least that's how I felt. I never had what could be considered a boyfriend in even the loosest application of the word.

A funny thing happened in my mind at this time. I started feeling like there was two me's. There was the me who went to dance class, got good grades, was ignored by her brother and generally lived a normal life. Then there was the me that only my brother knew about. That me watched dirty movies. This is the feeling you start having when secrets become a part of your life.

Greg was also pulling me deeper as he was now getting video tapes from his friends. These tapes were soooooo graphic. I started to see the penis enter the woman, close ups and all. I was likely already getting desensitized, so it didn't scare me off. If anything it pulled me deeper into that world; his world.

This really wasn't my world, I was more of an intruder who had become a welcome guest. It wasn't a straightforward thing, we never ever talked about it and there were times that I certainly felt like a second wheel on a unicycle. I never gave my brother too much thought other than to think that what we somehow together in this. I never considered that his penis was likely erect while this was going on. What he must have been thinking looking at those giant penises entering those women didn't dawn on me.

"Hey." I said shyly upon my arrival on a typical night to take my typical place on the floor.

There was an unspoken understanding that the sofa was his and I never invaded his personal space. We were watching a tape, the man was sort of funny looking with big muscles and he was fucking a woman with red hair.

"Michelle, don't look back here. Ok?" He whispered with intent.

"Huh?" The request caught me off guard.

"Just don't look back." He gasped.

Of course I looked back. Greg had a blanket on his lap and it was moving up and down, he was masturbating. I had no illusions about what he was doing. He didn't really seem to care that I looked and he kept doing it. I caught myself and quickly returned my attention to the funny looking man and the lady with the red hair. I looked straight ahead at the TV and didn't say anything thing. Instinctively I knew this wasn't something I should disturb.

From then on he would always masturbate when we watched the movies, I imagine that it was something that he picked up when I wasn't there. It was part of watching the movies now.

I didn't really mind that he did that. I didn't think about it that much. Sometimes I would look back and see the blanket going up and down in rhythm with the sex on the screen. Sometimes he would gasp sometimes he wouldn't make any noise but the action would come to an end and usually a rag of some kind from under the blanket emerged.

"Michelle...Michelle...are you looking?" Greg tried to get my attention on what had become another sort of typical night.

"What?" I said will watching another explicit scene.

"Michelle...look at me."

I turned to look and there was Greg, my brother, with no blanket on his lap. With my shy eyes looking over at him and he was clearly liking that. It was the first penis that I had ever seen in real life. He wasn't as big as the actors but it seemed enormous to me.

He finished this time saying, "You like that Michelle? You like that?"

There was semen everywhere. And his demeanour was changed. I think he was ashamed of what happened.

"Fuck! Michelle go away."

My eyes pleaded for him to let me stay but he repeated with intense sincerity. "Michelle...go to bed right now!"

With hurt feelings I made myself scarce. I thought something happened which couldn't be taken back. I wanted to talk to him about it but didn't have the words to broach that subject. Worries aside, It didn't change anything the next week we were watching movies again and he was masturbating again.

"Michelle...Mich-elle..." His voice was strained.

"I'm not looking." I didn't flinch.

"Michie, please...Michelle...let me see your pussy." He seemed to strain when he said pussy and my heart went into my stomach.