In high school I had one girlfriend, Lorena Wright. They were the most frustrating years of my life. More than education, band, music, or hanging out with friends, I wanted to lose my cherry. Alas, my girlfriend suffered from a case of Catholicism.
Sure, we fooled around but it was always with our clothes on. I wanted to know the mechanics of a girl. I wanted to know what a pussy looked, smelled, and tasted like. Her pussy, specifically. But that was not to be. She gave me a couple of hand jobs and she'd get herself off by rubbing herself against my leg but that was the extent of our intimacy.
I'll admit that I spent a lot of time masturbating while I was seeing Lorena, wondering how things would go if she'd only get past her Catholic guilt and give in to me.
Near the end of our senior year, right before I asked her to go to prom, she abruptly broke things off. I tried to find out why but never got a satisfactory issue. This led to a lot of self-doubt and self-image problems over the years.
We traveled in different social circles so once she dumped me I barely saw her again. Soon college and real life took us farther apart until she was merely a memory.
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