Of the female persuasion.
It was dull in the drowsy humidity of the patio outside Raos in Amherst yesterday.
Leaning my head back and looking past the wall at the sky, I recalled the past.
I've only had full heterosexual intercourse three times, although I've fooled around with a lot of women - "making out" if you will. I like to kiss people of either sex and I like the softness of women's bodies as opposed to men when I rub my hands over them. But full, penis in vagina hetero sex has only happened between me and a woman on three occasions, each time with a different woman.
The first time was when I was sixteen. I was already having sex on a pretty regular basis by then with guys. Most were about my age, but several were older, guys well into their twenties. I guess some of my sexual encounters with these older men were technically illegal, but I wanted it and did not consider myself abused.
One night a bunch of us from Pine Point were all swimming nude at Five Mile Pond after dark. We had weed and a case of beer someone's older brother had gotten for us. At one point everyone else had gone to shore, to smoke a joint or something, and I found myself alone in the water with Jay Libardi's cousin Kim.
I had noticed Kim looking at me a lot. I usually ignored girls who showed any interest in me, because I really wasn't interested in them. I was already probably the best fucked boy at the High of School of Commerce with all my boyfriends. Who needed some goofy girl taking up my valuable dating time?
When I realized it was just me and her in the dark water I said we should go to shore before we missed out on getting high. Instead she reached out bold as brass and grabbed me between the legs and began stroking me. It took me about two minutes to get hard and then she mounted me, pumping there in the water with our feet in the mushy bottom of Five Mile Pond. I came quick and then we went to shore. Neither of us had said a word during the whole encounter. Some people snickered as we came to shore and made comments about what we were doing out there, only joking, but what they didn't know was that the joke was for real.
Kimberly called me the next day and wanted us to meet in the playground of the World Famous Thomas M. Balliet Elementary School. I was confused about what had happened. Frankly I had liked having sex with her. It was marvelous how well our parts fit together - unlike intercourse with guys it was a much more natural fit. Yet at the same time having sex with Kim did nothing to ease the obsessive crush I had with a boy I had seen nude in the shower after gym that same day.
At the playground she met me by the swingset and asked me if I wanted her to be my girlfriend. I said yes even though I didn't mean it. We hung around some, like going downtown to the tearoom at Steiger's for ice cream. She didn't know that the tearoom was a popular gay pick-up spot. Other times we went to the Eastfield Mall, walking through the stores hand in hand.
Kim hinted we should have sex again but at first pretended not to understand. Sometimes we kissed and other times I would stroke and suck on her breasts. One time she gave me a hand-job, but that was as far as it went. We never again had full intercourse. Then after about a month of our "dating" I cancelled one of our trips to the mall. The boy I was chasing from the gym was going to go with us skinny dipping at Five Mile and I didn't want Kim there to get in the way should the right opportunity present itself.
Unluckily, somehow the next day she found out that I had gone to Five Mile and hadn't invited her. In fact she realized that I had lied to keep her away. She called me on the phone and cried and demanded an explanation that I couldn't give her. Her tears turned to anger and we broke up. For a long time after that I would see her around the Point and she wouldn't even look at me.
Her life was not destined to be a happy one. Kim got married right out of High School but the marriage ended after only a few years. She fell in with some bad people from the Pine Point Cafe and started to use needle drugs. That's how she got AIDS, from a dirty needle. It made me sick to hear about it. How ironic, I'm the queer but she's the one that got AIDS.
Near the end she asked to see me. Her request surprised and somewhat frightened me but I went. I was appalled at her physical condition, lying there in her hospice bed, but within a few minutes I realized that inside that ravaged body was the same old Kim.
I made some bullshit remarks about her getting better. She humored me. We chatted about nothing until I had to go. Then she got very serious and asked me whether I remembered that night we made love at Five Mile Pond. I was too stupid and sad to do say anything and just nodded. For a long moment there was just silence. Then she asked me to kiss her and I did on her lips as she stroked my cheek once with her hand. When I left I felt I would never see her again in this world and I never did.
Kim is buried in Saint Michael's about an equal distance between my father and Jay Libardi. I have to walk past her grave to visit either one. She was the first of only three women I ever had straight sex with. They say you never forget your first girl and I know I won't.
To read about Lover Number Two click here.