Teen Hormones

I almost entitled this entry “Sport Fucking”.

Wikipedia says this about hormones: “In essence, it is a chemical messenger that transports a signal from one cell to another.” It’s important to remember that we are really just animals. Evolved & complex yes, but really just animals. We’re hard-wired to reproduce. It’s natural for us to be horny, to want to mate. It’s our big, beautiful brains that keep us from fucking like monkeys. We learn to control our impulses to adjust our behavior…but when you’re young, with little life experience and feeling horny is new & powerful it can be difficult to avoid fucking like a monkey. Especially combined with the high of exploring your power over men.

 

That’s a long way of saying that I was very promiscuous, which Wikipedia explains this way: “In humans, promiscuity refers to undiscriminating casual sex with many sexual partners.” They are careful to note this behavior only has a name for humans because no one ever judges a monkey for being a slut.

 

I kind of feel about my teen promiscuity like Charlie Sheen feels about his party binges: proud of it. It was epic. And I know full well, as Charlie does, that others judge…but many of those who judge have never had that kind of fun. They’ve never LIVED. Some think Charlie is crazy. Me, I don’t care if he’s crazy. I don’t have to love EVERYTHING he’s said or done to love SOME of what he’s said and done. This isn’t really about Charlie, this is about making our own choices even when others poo-poo it. It’s about being true to yourself and as long as you’re not hurting others, do what you want.

 

I bet you’re hoping I’ll finish my soapbox rant and just give you the juicy details of my teen sex life?

 

I’ll share a little. Why not?

 

When I was 16/17 I had a 3some with 2 guys who were best friends that lasted for about 6 months. We were all close friends but had no illusions that we were boyfriend(s) girlfriend. It was just sex with friends and it was great. It only ended when one of them started a serious relationship with another great gal who he later married.

 

I’ve really just run out of time to write this blog entry right now but I’ll spend some time thinking about all the great sex I had as a teen and if there’s anything worth sharing maybe I’ll add it in later. It’s enjoyable thinking back to that time. Fun.

 

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Happy Slut

Reaching way back…

The beginning seems to be the appropriate place to start with this tale.

I was raised in rural Nova Scotia, Canada. I was surrounded by farms and apple trees. I had a poor upbringing but all my basic needs were covered. My parents did the best they could with what they had. My grandparents helped out when things got really tough. I went to church but never liked it. I did well in school but was rarely pressured to do better. I was socially awkward and lonely as a youngster. I was always more drawn to adults/teachers than to my peers. I was bullied or ignored by kids my own age. I never felt like I belonged there. When I grew up I wanted to be an accomplished actress or singer…but I never wanted to be so famous that I would appear in tabloids or be recognized when in public.

I competed in public speaking and usually won. I took every opportunity to be in school plays or anything just to get up in front of a crowd of people. My cousins & I used to put together little performances for our families. I’ve always been an exhibitionist and performer.

I was always good at making and saving money. I created or found small jobs around the community to get paid for, I babysat, worked on farms, house sat, cleaned people’s houses, etc. When I was 15 I rolled and sold single cigarettes to other students at school. I never smoked myself. Jobs fell in my lap as well. At 15/16 I was offered a job in an optical store where my Mother was buying glasses. I worked there on and off for a year making a few dollars more than minimum wage. It was a grown up job and I was proud to have it.

When I was in my early teens my stable and fairly normal family life started to change. With my older brother and I becoming old enough to be more independent my Mother started to live her life again and she was not happy with my Father. It took a few years of drama but they finally divorced when I was 16. I was closest with my Mother so I moved to Halifax with her which was a significant event in my life. I became a city girl and was introduced to all kinds of new people and experiences.

I did not fit in at my new school and I spent most of grade 11 going to bars and partying with girls from another school. My Mother and I were more like friends and I had all the freedom of an adult. No discipline or pressure to do well in school. I was friendly with my teachers and worked in the cafeteria at school. I received very high grades in English and even tutored ESL students in Shakespeare. English wasn’t their first language so Shakespeare seemed impossible to them but I would act out all the roles for them until they understood and at least brought their grades up from failing to passing.

In my final year, grade 12, I hated going to school. I had no friends my age in the school I went to. I still partied a lot but I also had two other part time jobs outside of my cafeteria job. I worked at a coffee shop and at a fancy ladies shop in the most posh hotel in town. I missed a lot of classes for work and at the end of the year found myself dangerously close to not graduating. It was all reliant on one class: computer science. I had failed everything in that class all year. I had been attracted to the teacher from that class and had had an awkward experience with him months earlier. He had been tutoring me in math and I started sweating so much I was leaving wet finger marks on the paper. The sweat was just pouring off of me. I thought it was because of hormones…I’m not sure what he thought but he gave me one of his clean t-shirts to wear instead of my knit sweater. It was thrilling wearing his shirt. It felt naughty. That night I became very ill and realized I had been sweating because I had a fever! After a couple of days home sick I returned his t-shirt, clean & folded.

The night before the exam I was at the bar with my girlfriend. There was no point in studying, I was going to fail and probably go to summer school. I felt a hand on my shoulder and my last name in my ear followed by “studying hard for that exam tomorrow I see!”. I turned to see that teacher smiling as he walked away. I nearly threw up. My heart was pounding. I was drinking underage in a bar and I had screwed up. I went after him, found him and offered to buy him a drink (cheeky, hm?). He put his arm around me and said to his friend: “This is my favorite student.” I was shocked as I figured he thought I was a stupid dork. I then explained that there was no point in me studying as we both knew I didn’t have a hope of passing the exam…and it would mean summer school for me. He then advised me to write the exam as if I knew every answer. To hold my head up and look confident. He didn’t need anybody asking him any questions when I passed.

I learned a valuable lesson that night.

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Not my official school uniform