The Next One – Story by Benjamin Mursko

Woman_in_Stockings_Undressing

The Next One – Story by Benjamin Mursko

It had been over 15 years since I saw her. Funny how when you are in your late 30’s you try to catch up for some lost time – or even worse have a lot of making up to do with people from the past. All part of finally growing up and getting well, I’m told.

I wouldn’t consider Mindy to be a really significant person from my past, other than the fact that she was my first lay. We dated for a few months, nothing too serious in my view. It all took place over the course of one spring and part of a summer. The scent of sex was in the air I guess and while I had messed around with many pretty girls in the years prior, I had never gone all the way with any of them. I figured it was about time I did that. I heard that once you weren’t a virgin anymore people could tell. It was a shameful secret to carry around as a guy. I mean they even made a movie about it.

It seems kind of cold but I think a man just wants to get his first and a woman wants her first to be special. What’s special to me is the last one. What’s even more seductive is the next one. I guess a guy always holds out hope that there will be a next…possibly that’s why it’s so hard to settle down. To choose one. At least for me. I see a lot of people doing it yet it still doesn’t make a lot of sense.

It wasn’t the greatest part of my life but I had my youth. Falling down wasn’t hard and getting up was even easier. I did pretty much what I wanted to do and it seemed right. I knew I wasn’t holy but I could justify anything especially if there was something wrong with the way I was being treated. So, I loved and I fought and I especially got drunk. Often. I am a lot better now but that’s another story.

I learned that most women won’t fuck you on the first date, even if they want to. Even when they want to. At least that’s what some of them tell you the day after. They say how they wanted to be manhandled in the back seat of your old beater car when instead you just dropped them off at their house without even trying to fool around. They might say something like, “God, I wanted you to fuck me, but I’m not that easy.” I never understood that. Saying no can be kind of hot though, knowing you’re going to be saying yes later. Sometimes they even get pissed that you didn’t at least try to steal a kiss or grab something perhaps you shouldn’t have. They may expect you to be aggressive and maybe even inappropriate but when you’re told no you naturally back off. I thought these kind of interactions should be simpler and more honest than that. I guess way back when the man just hit the woman with a club and dragged her back to the cave to have his way with her. Nobody thought anything of it, even the woman. These instincts still run deep today. The guy with the nicest cave gets her to come back the next day begging for it.

I didn’t know what I was looking for in a woman or what they could have seen in me. Maybe it was physical or intellectual. Maybe it was both or neither. Maybe it was just dumb luck. A chick I dated in high school told me I’d go out with anyone who’d go out with me. I had to admit she was probably right. Sometimes they were smokin’ hot. Sometimes they weren’t so hot. They all had some redeeming qualities even if it wasn’t physical.

Mindy was a little on the heavy side but had pretty blonde hair and freckly skin. Truth be told, her ass was kind of big and her breasts were relatively small, but I could deal with it. She was cool to be with. I recall reading out loud to her on a picnic once. I can’t remember if it was Dickens or Plato. Doesn’t matter I guess.

I must’ve been awful my first time. I was her second guy. I remember that first moment of penetration, like falling into a mushy hole. It kind of smelled funny too. It’s kind of profound actually. Once you’re all the way in there you’re no longer a virgin. Hurray. Now what I thought? One key point I failed to mention: she didn’t know it was my first time. I couldn’t let that bit get out. I didn’t want to look feeble or foolish, so when asked I made up some low number or “a couple.”

Today sex is great but the mind can still wander to other things: baseball, the periodic table, tchotchkes. It’s just kind of repetitive but also meditative. You can kind of let your mind wander. Proves how much stuff is stuck inside your head. I get rave reviews nowadays. I tell them it’s simple: imagine yourself as the world’s greatest lover and you will be. It’s worked so far.

Mindy and I had a lot of fun, lots of sex in my old car and I was particularly fond of her blowjobs. It’s interesting when they tell you they aren’t good at it or haven’t done it a lot and you feel like it’s your job to teach them so you do. Lots of hands-on experience.

Somewhere along the way I think we started to develop feelings for one another. I think she must’ve had more for me than I had for her because I had come down with the flu and couldn’t attend her birthday party and she was furious and never got over it. I didn’t really apologize. Didn’t feel that I needed to. Why did she think I was a liar? I suppose there was no way she could live with the fact that her boyfriend wouldn’t go to her birthday party, no matter the reason. I guess I felt like she was doing me a favor anyway. She was also pissed about money she “lent” me. O well I thought…moving on to the next. It was easy for me to cut and run rather than stay and fight for what might be gained with a little effort.

Why I decided to look her up again – well, like I said, I try to leave no stone unturned. We met for coffee and she looked great. I would even go so far as to call her voluptuous. I am a bit heavier than I was then, but I was also a stick figure then and some people prefer a thicker me so what the hell.

I started with apologies of course, and then I slid a check across the table.

“Best I can do right now,” I said.

“O don’t worry about it, it wasn’t ever about the money,” she said.

“I know I didn’t talk to you about it because I was so damn mad,” she said. “But I was starting to start to love you and I know you didn’t feel the same way.”

“I’m not sure how I felt,” I said. That’s true. Women never seem to give you the time to figure that out. You’re supposed to know, right away. Otherwise it’s time to move on. They must have some kind of clock that decides these things in a rather imperious way. I’m more of a wait and see person.

“Well it was frustrating,” she continued. “We talked about love and sometimes when we were having sex you would say that you loved it but not that you loved me. Sex and love are really connected in my view.”

“So what you’re saying is: no sex without love and no love without sex?” I asked.

“Yes, sort of. I mean you’re supposed to feel something eventually. It’s not just casual for me, at least it wasn’t then. Not that it is now either,” she said, blushing a little. Modesty: interesting reaction over something that’s largely just biological.

“I didn’t see the need for the strings to be attached,” I said. “I can see how that would be wrong.  I was just trying to have a good time. There is something I never told you though. You were my first.”

“Really?!” she said. “Wow. You were (ahem) are really good looking and I assumed you had plenty of experience before you met me. What man didn’t I guess. I mean the ratio always seems to favor the guys.”

“There was no way I could let you think that there was something wrong with me,” I said. “Because that’s what it felt like, or call it unlucky or whatever. I guess I assume girls expect an experienced man.”

“Well I remember it being terrific,” she said.

The conversation was much lighter and even flirtatious afterwards. Obviously she felt some kind of relief, even pride. She was my first. That meant something.

“I remember it being pretty damn good too,” I said. Remember that time that we were up in your friend’s room and her father was watching TV in his room across the hall? It was so scary to not make a sound. And your two friends kept trying to peek in on us.”

“That was really funny,” she said. “But we never finished what we started that night. You had me get down on my hands and knees beside the bed and you took me from behind.”

“I remember that. You never felt better on me.”

“It was crazy,” she said.

“Something I wouldn’t mind finishing,” I said.

“Sounds…intriguing,” she said.

Part Two coming soon…

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