Here’s another painful milestone in my castration fetish.
22 was a pivotal year for me.
I hooked up with Wendy, a newly-graduated nurse. It was spring. It was all very lovey-dovey. I remember passionately making out with her for over an hour in the middle of the day in my parked car near the nursing student dorm.
From the neck up Wendy was sweet, mousy and elfin. From the neck down she had that skinnyness that comes from being young and nervous. Naked she looked like an underfed young monkey. Kind of sad and pathetic. Her flesh reminded me of Silly Putty.
Wendy wanted me to take her virginity. It was so awful, both witnessing her pain and blood and being the cause of it. It took so long, I had to ram into her again and again and again. The experience was quite traumatic for me and it had a deep, lasting impact. As for Wendy, she pretty much took it in stride.
I can’t relate to macho fantasies about taking a girl’s virginity at all. And to this day I can’t stand to listen to Rod Stewart’s obnoxious porno pop song, “Tonight’s the Night (Gonna Be Alright)”.
This will sound strange, but I took Wendy’s experience into myself and converted it into becoming a deep part of my castration fantasy life. I’ve tried to capture this in some of the stories I’ve written.
In the end I rudely broke it off with Wendy because she was more interested in ‘antiquing’ than having sex. I’m a swine.