Somebody posed this question on Twitter a while back and it got me thinking about my list. I had a list. You know, “list.” I used to keep track in a notebook then on spreadsheet until the computer I had it on died. I never bothered trying to redo it or keep one up after that. I’m pretty sure I’ve written about my list before and will add the link if I can find the post. These days all I have are my memories and a partial list in my head. I haven’t added to it in several years, and it would appear it’s getting smaller as some memories have begun to fade. I guess that is why people keep lists, to account for their failing memories.
Today I want to peruse that mental list while I still have it and introduce you to some of my past flames, encounters, loves. These aren’t my greatest loves or greatest regrets or anything like that. Just memories. Some fond, some not so much.
Clarky, my first love. I remember his grandparents had a farm and one visit a new calf was born that they named after me. I’m sure his eventual wife hated that and just the idea of it still makes me laugh. We never had sex, by his definition, but he did introduce me to oral pleasures. Oh, we did get caught with his pants down on the fairgrounds one evening. Took a while for his friends to realize what was going on when I wouldn’t move from sitting atop him in my dress.
Beautiful Bobby. Fuck I enjoyed that man. He was older than than me by several years. His youngest brother was older than me. We once had drunken sex in the stairwell of a seedy motel. People walked past/over us and we just kept on keeping on, as you do.
Mitchell, with two t’s. Hmm, there is so much for this one. We met at church. Yes, I was a good girl once upon a time. Now I’m just a different kind of good girl. 😉 He was the first man I said yes to. Not following through with that yes and changing it to a no is my only real regret in life. Hearing someone say excuse me will forever make me laugh and think of him. As will the movie American Werewolf in London, and blue balls.
The Christophers. There have been many a man named Chris, or Christopher, whose cocks I have enjoyed. To say I have enjoyed the relationships I’ve had with them though, that may be stretching it just a bit. There has been a chef, a salesman, an engineer, a writer, a meat man (don’t ask), a veteran. I’m done with all of them. No more.
Speaking of men who have something in common, there have also been multiple cooks/chefs, engineers, electricians, truck drivers. Still only one meat man though.
Fuck Boy. The name says it all. We fucked. We met at a swingers club and we fucked, a lot. He never understood that I had a primary relationship and was not interested in making him my number one. Took him to a swingers party with friends and it’s was terrible. He was late and smoked and insulted my friends. He did have a fantastically divine cock though, and could bring that bad boy to orgasm several times a night. Too bad he was such an arsehole.
The First. He was of course, the first man to stick his cock in me. Not who I thought would be my first. Not the one I had planned to be my first. He was a cousin of the planned first though, which was such a strange coincidence. They were in different provinces and about a year apart. What are the fucking odds on that?
That’s it for now. Maybe I will add to this list another day and I can tell you about some other characters who have shared my bed.