Reminiscing Sexy Fun Times

The first time I reacted in a pleasurable way, was when I was five years old. When I became aware of my sexuality, I was about eight. The babysitter’s younger daughter was at least a couple of years older than me and was the one who showed me what sex was about. As my visits to the babysitter happened more frequently, so did the sexual experiences I had with the daughter.

When she came home from school, she would bring me to her room and play doctor or act out a scene of a movie that she made up in her head. No matter what the activity was, it was always sexual. My first kiss was with the babysitter’s younger daughter. She taught me how to gently kiss her lips. She also taught me how to put my hand on the back of her neck and pull her in for a passionate kiss. Of course, what really was a ‘passionate kiss’ back then? It was probably a mimic of what she saw in a movie, passed over to me.

Every day before being called to dinner, she would take me to the guest den and bring me to the back of a row of couches right in front of some windows. It was always dimmed there and her parents would never think that we were engaged in naughty things. It was there, that she showed me how to have sex. Mind you, we never had intercourse. If she wore a dress, she would lift her dress up and pull her panties down, then beckon me to rub my exposed penis against her vagina until I climaxed. Though I doubt I was able to ejaculate just yet considering my age.

Other times, if my parents had to work later than usual, she would be tasked to help get my brother and I ready for a bath. My brother was still considered a baby back then, so her mom would bathe him, but for me, she would do it personally. On the surface, she would look nonchalant, as she prepared the water in the tub and got my clothes ready. Then she would assure her mom that she will see to it I’m taken care of. When the mom goes back downstairs to watch her television, the daughter would embrace me and bathe me sensually.

Thinking back on this, I liked the fact I was able to embrace my sexuality at such a young age. At least I figured out what I liked and how to go about pleasuring myself when puberty hit me. As I got older, I often thought back on those experiences. How many people can say they had their first sexually charged kiss at the age of eight and had a sex buddy from then to about age nine with a slightly older girl?

Moving pass my teenage years, I had a myriad of experiences primarily with Chinese ethnic girls, with one experience with a Vietnamese girl named Elyssa. After high school, I met a very hot sexy Chinese girl with long black beautiful hair, perfect complexion, large round eyes, basically a perfect body. She also had an amazingly bubbly personality. She was fun, considerate, loving and gentle. Unfortunately, as obvious as her feelings were for me, I tore her up due to my insecurities. I pushed her away over and over again and every time I did it, I was broken over and over again. When I finally got rid of her, my shattered heart killed me. I wept uncontrollably and for years, had her in my heart. Even though I had various intimate partners in a span of seven years, I could never get Virginia out of my mind. It wasn’t until years later that I found out she was actually 17 at the time when I was 21. It never occurred to me to ever ask for her age because we looked to be about the same age.

When Virginia left me, an older woman came into my life a few months after. A mutual friend had told me that his friend was coming from Hong Kong to study English for four months. I met June a week following that. It took me a total of two weeks to kiss her and one week after that to have sex with her. I still remember how our first kiss came about. We were at Tokyo Lounge in Vancouver. There were a total of four of us. The other two were vague, but I remember one of them. June and I sat beside each other on different single-seat couches. Since there was music, talking and other noises around, we had to bring our faces really close to each other to hear what each of us were saying. As the night went and more drinks were had, our faces and the side of our lips started brushing up against each other. I remember her skin was so soft and her predatory stare so potent. By the end of the night, before we took her home, we were basically kissing each others’ faces and the corners of our mouths. The kiss and the intimacy were very memorable. The sex, not so much.

After June, I focused most of my attention on post-secondary school and freelance work. I had a few intimate encounters, one of which was the worst idea ever. I won’t name her to avoid unnecessary drama, but I will say that some women will twist the story around to suit their dignity at the cost of the truth. Which on this note, had taught me that I really dislike blamers, people that never find fault in themselves and blame others. I found out years later, that this person blamed me for taking advantage of her when we were both lightly influenced by the wine we were drinking, where as it was her who made the move first. In fact, I asked her for permission to touch her which she permitted me to. It boils my blood that people like this exist, because people like this will ruin a man’s entire life for a sex offense that never happened. Her relative, a close friend of mine, has told me that she never takes personal responsibility and will always find a way to put blame onto others.

Fast forward a little, in between all of the women I’ve mentioned, I’ve had a few other intimate encounters. Some of them lasted over a year, but was never considered solid or committed. Some were one night stands. Some were ongoing flirtationships, that lead to lots of teasing and stuff and things. However, it was also the year that Cindy and I broke up in 2006 that my ethnic range broadened. Instead of going after Chinese ethnic women, I was hooked up with Caucasian women, mixes, Thai, Vietnamese and so on and so forth. It was an interesting time from 2006 to about 2010.

After 2010, I was romantically involved with Amber, but due to our distance and the constant arguments we had at the time, I yearned for a gentler touch, someone who was available and connected with me emotionally. I will say it like this: I regret not having that one last kiss with a woman who connected with me emotionally, as my Chinese ethnic equal, who shared many aspects on the outlook of life as I did.

Of course, at the same time I regret this, I am also glad I did not have that last kiss. Life is full of opposing forces. My life does not lack in these opposing forces at all. Unfortunately, those feelings still haunt me, no matter how fulfilling aspects of my love life is, it may linger in me forever.