Mike Patton – Faith no More (Photo credit: /amf)
The first time a guy went down on me I was lying on the super-single waterbed in my teenage bedroom, across the hall from my parents’ bedroom, watching Gloria Estefan singing her hit single, “Coming Out of the Dark” on the Arsenio Hall show. It’s funny how these seminal moments (no pun intended) in our lives become frozen in memory like Polaroid snapshots. I remember how, even at the time, I noted the absurdity of the moment in conjunction with the song that was playing.
The man’s name was (for the purposes of this blog) Dave Garvey. And he was a man: he was 23 years old and I was sixteen. I’d met him through a friend or a friend of a friend. I don’t remember exactly how anymore. We didn’t have anything in common, but I was attracted to him because, besides the built-in allure of being older, he looked remarkably liked Mike Patton, the lead singer of Faith No More, my favorite band at the time.
I was sexually inexperienced, i.e., still a virgin. It’s not that I had anything against having sex; I was as horny as any other sixteen-year-old. I had kissed a lot of boys. I’d been felt up in the eighth grade. I had touched my first penis months earlier, but things hadn’t gone anywhere with that guy. I wasn’t guarding the treasure between my legs like it was the golden idol in “Raiders of the Lost Ark”, but I did have a sense that I wanted the first time to be somewhat special. Translation: I at least wanted to be in a relationship when I did the deed. So, the big show hadn’t happened yet. I also hadn’t engaged in any, uh, oral action until Dave sneaked up on me during the Arsenio Hall show musical interlude.
It was summertime. We were lying on my bed, fully clothed, making out. One minute we were kissing, and the next minute Dave had his head buried between my legs, maneuvering around my shorts and introducing me to cunnilingus. He went from kissing to oral faster than you can say, “jailbait”. I was stunned at this progression, to say the least. It wasn’t even dark in my room, so that doesn’t explain my confusion! Things that make you go, “Hmm…” indeed. And then there’s the issue of how Dave accomplished all of this without taking off a stitch of my clothes. I mean, I was wearing shorts, but still. I guess he just pushed them aside. Yes, I know – this is getting graphic. Just wait. There’s more.
Calla Lily Awakening (Photo credit: Bill Gracey)
Before you worry that my teenage honor was being assaulted, I was fine. I was fucking surprised at the turn things had taken, but I wasn’t being tongue-raped against my will or anything. As I lay there soaking in my ridiculous “Coming Out of the Dark” experience with Dave eating me out, I noticed him slowly maneuvering his bottom half up toward me. Hold the phone! I was still trying to mentally process my thoughts about Dave which included:
1) I was really only dating him because he looked like the lead singer of Faith No More. I liked looking at him, and occasionally kissing him, and drinking the alcohol that he was old enough to buy for my friends and me, but other than that, we didn’t have shit in common, his being a 23-year-old semi-homeless guitar player and my being a 16-year-old honor student/virgin.
2) As soon as school was back in session, I would obviously break up with him. This was just a summer fling with no long-term potential, and pursuant to the “special” rule of giving up my cherry pot, that means I wasn’t going to have sexual intercourse with him.
3) Even if #1 and #2 didn’t apply, we were in my bedroom ACROSS THE HALL FROM MY PARENTS’ BEDROOM. They were totally home. Gross, right? I didn’t even have a lock on my door. (I hope they’re not reading this. I still might get grounded.)
So, like I said, I happened to notice that Dave was maneuvering his ass toward me. He was still going down on me, and I have to admit, I was kind of blasé about it. (I have since revised my opinion on this particular sex act, for the record.) Even at that young age, I had seen enough pornos to figure out what was going on. That sneaky turd was trying to scoot himself into a 69 position! The nerve!
Here’s the thing: He may have been able to stealth-eat my pussy, but there was no way he was going to accidentally put his dick in my mouth. I don’t think so. Besides, he was still wearing his clothes too. (Although his shorts were sagging, and I caught a glimpse of hairy ass crack. Ugh. If he had ever had a chance at this working out in his favor, that sight killed it for him.)
I sprang up and said something to the effect of, “Okay, then!” I honestly have no idea exactly what I said, but I know I unceremoniously put the kibosh on our romantic interlude. The rest of the evening has faded from my memory. But it was that night that made me realize that I really wasn’t into Dave. I broke up with him soon after. Months later he got two different women knocked up within months of each other. I guess he was making up for all of the sex he didn’t have with me.
I wonder how Dave is doing now. And whatever happened to Faith No More?