“Yeah, but you can’t tell anybody.”
“I can’t?”
“Nope. Not even your girlfriends—nobody. It will be our secret, okay?”
“Okay.” I smiled, ’cause I love secrets. Still do.
“Go ahead. It will be just like sucking you thumb,” John told me that day, but he was wrong. It was better. I enjoyed sucking his dick more than anything and I couldn’t wait until he came over so I could do it. My mother was so happy that I’d stopped sucking my thumb.
This went on for the next three years. We would get to my house and I would suck his dick. It was the only sex we had. We never had intercourse. He told me that when I got to high school, we would do it. I couldn’t wait to get to high school so John could make me a woman. When I got to high school, I got a rude awakening.
I had looked forward to this day for years. No more hiding. He would come in the morning and walk me to school, we’d sit together during lunch, and every afternoon he would walk me home. We would go out on dates. All the other girls would be so jealous of me because my boyfriend was a senor. But it wasn’t meant to be.
On my first day in high school, I found out that my boyfriend, John, already had a girlfriend. One that he walked to school every morning and that he sat with at lunch; and one that he walked home every afternoon. When I confronted him about it, he told me that it was over between us. I was devastated. “After what we did, how can you do this to me?”
“We ain’t do nothing but kiss and stuff. I ain’t never fuck you.”
“I sucked your dick!” I shouted.
All he did was smile. “You were just something to do, Tyhedra,” John said coldly. So I slapped him. He hit me in the face so hard it knocked me off my feet. I ran home crying and told my brother about it, and he went and beat John up for me. But I never did tell him why he hit me or what I had been doing with John. I didn’t tell anybody. I didn’t have to. By the time I was a sophomore it seemed like every boy in school knew that I was a dick sucker. Word had gotten around about what I had done with John, and now they were all trying to get with me. Calling me Tyheadra behind my back. It made my next three years of high school miserable. I hated John for what he did to me and all the other boys for how they made me feel.
When I went away to college, I thought that things would be different for me. I went to a college far from home where nobody knew me. After a year away, I began to feel better about myself and thought that it would be all right to go out with men. By that time, I was no longer a skinny little girl. My body had developed into the woman that I wanted John to make me. I was getting attention from men and I enjoyed it. I had met this guy named Marvin who lived off campus. I liked him. He treated me with respect, so I finally went on a date with him. Since that went all right, I decided that it was time that I have sex—not just suck dick, which I hadn’t done in five years—but intercourse. I had used a vibrator on myself before and didn’t get anything from it. I thought that it was because it wasn’t real. I needed a man to feel something, or so I thought.
Marvin took me to his apartment one afternoon and we did it. I enjoyed having a dick in my mouth again after all those years, but I got very little, if any, satisfaction from Marvin being inside me. He, on the other hand, thought being inside me was the best thing that ever happened to him. When he was done, Marvin jumped out of bed and quickly began getting dressed.
“Come on, get up, you gotta go,” Marvin said, frantically putting on clothes and grabbing mine from the floor.
“What’s wrong?” I asked and rolled out of bed.
“Nothing,” he said and paused, “It’s just that my girlfriend will be home soon and she can’t find you here. So please, hurry up and get dressed so I can take you back to the dorm before she gets here.”
“You got a girlfriend?” I asked as I took my time getting out of bed. I had the same feeling of hate that I had when I found out that John had been using me.
“Yes,” he said coldly.
“So what was I, just something to do?”
Marvin smiled. “I like you, Tyhedra, but yeah, we’re just foolin’ around, havin’ some fun. You know, something to do.”
I didn’t say another word. I just got dressed and walked to the door with Marvin close behind me. I opened the door and went out into the hallway and looked down the long stairwell that led to his apartment. I couldn’t believe that it happened to me again—used by another man. The rage built up inside me. He came out and turned to lock the door. When he turned around and faced me, I pushed him down the steps.
As I watched him tumble down the steps, I felt another feeling welling up inside me, but this time it wasn’t rage that I felt. When he got to the bottom of the steps, my whole body begin to shake from the inside out. I closed my eyes and my mouth fell open and I let out a sigh. I walked down the steps and looked at Marvin, he hadn’t moved. I walked out of the building and started to make my way back to the dorm on foot. That’s when I noticed that my panties were drenched and had soaked through my jeans. I found out the next day that Marvin was dead. It didn’t take me long to realize that I got an orgasm, not because of sex with Marvin, but because I killed him.
After that, I tried to deny it. I met another man; his name was Charles. He was good to me, and he treated me with nothing but kindness and respect. As time went on, I began to believe that all men weren’t pigs. I stayed with him for the rest of my days at college and we had sex on a regular basic. It was great for him. I’ve been told that I have good pussy and I’m an awesome dick sucker, so you know he loved that. But for me, sex was always unsatisfying. No matter what I did or what he did to me, I never had another orgasm. Never even came close.
When I graduated, I got a job in Kansas City and Charles and I lost contact. During my first year there, I explored my sexuality in a desperate attempt to find satisfaction. I had
every kind of sex imaginable. I had sex with women and men. I had threesomes with two men, with a man and a woman, and with two women. I went to orgies. One of my partners took me to an underground sex club. I’ve had anal sex, bondage sex—hell, I even went to a dominatrix a few times. Still, I found no joy in sex. Through it all, my experience with Marvin stayed on my mind, but I always pushed it aside.
That all changed one night when I was out with some coworkers. We went out for drinks to celebrate the completion of a project. By the end of the evening, everybody, except me, was pretty drunk. As the night went on and talk of sex became the topic of conversation, I allowed myself to think about the satisfaction I got from killing Marvin, and the only orgasm that I ever had. It was then that I noticed this guy. He had been wandering around the bar, hitting on just about every women in the place. When he approached our table, one of my coworkers shut him down and he stayed away from us for the rest of the night.
Sometime around midnight, our party began to break up because we had to be at work in the morning. I left with my group, waved good-bye to everybody, and got in my car. I sat and watched as one by one they drove out of the parking lot. Once the last car was gone, I got out and went back inside. He was still there, sitting alone in a booth near the back. I walked over to the booth.
“Is this seat taken?” I asked.
He looked up at me and smiled. “I been keepin’ it warm just for you,” he said and slid over.
“Why don’t you go and get me a drink,” I said, instead of sitting.