My First Time


Learning to fake it

By Lee Ann “Sunny” Brown

I remember my first time so clearly that it was almost like yesterday.

I had been wanting to do it for a long time, in fact, for several years before I actually got up the courage to do it. I knew which ones of my friends had done it—you could almost always tell—there was something about them that just gave off that “glow” that made them look more confident, and I wanted that glow, too. And then there were some friends who had done it so much that they had lost that youthful glow. In fact, they just looked older, really, and I knew that I did not want to have the same experience they did. I didn’t want it to be noticeable that I had done it, I didn’t want to look like I was scarlet red, I didn’t want everyone looking at me and immediately thinking that I had done it, I just wanted there to be a noticeable something extra, I just wanted the glow. So, every time I was with my friends who were “in the know” I would ask them every question I could think of about the experience; what it was like, were they scared, did I need to take anything special with me whenever I finally decided to go for it? I wanted to be prepared for whenever I finally did decide to do it.

Then, of course, there was the major question of “who” I was going to go do it with. This proved to be a major decision. I had a lot of options to choose from, which actually made it even more difficult to decide. I spent a lot of time checking up on each potential suggestion. I would look them up on social media and see what other people had said about them, if there were any nasty or negative comments about them from past women. Sometimes I would drive over to where they were and I would drop by and just hang out for a few minutes, see if they were nice or just giving me the brush off. I would have a conversation, ask questions about themselves, (they love that!), just trying to get a feel for the vibe and if I felt comfortable with them. I realized that I didn’t want to go with someone who a lot of people had been with. They might have more experience, but I just didn’t think that they would take into account that it was my first time and make me feel comfortable. I was afraid that it would just be an impersonal rush job. Not that I was wanting a commitment or anything like that, I just didn’t want to have to sign on any dotted line or give my email or phone number. I just wanted to be relaxed, have things explained to me, to be gently guided through it. I might not ever want to come back or see the person again, so I certainly wasn’t looking for a commitment. 

At last, I finally did find the person that I thought would be the right one for me, who could help me relax and let me decide how far I wanted to go with it. In fact, I actually decided on a woman that a lot of my friends had referred me to that they went to for their first time. We talked and set a date and time. All week long I was filled with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. I knew I would feel self-conscious so I spent the week before doubling down on my workout, trying to tone all the right places, sadly, to no avail.

Suddenly, after all the months, (years, really) of talking and thinking about doing it, the time had come. I was really nervous. Then I stepped through the door. It’s always nerve racking the first time you take your clothes off in front of someone you barely know, a total stranger really. The first time is so awkward; silly things like where to put your clothes or how to tell them it’s a little too chilly. On top of all that the lighting was way too bright!

I’m gonna say that it wasn’t as bad or as good as I had hoped for. There were parts of it that I definitely liked better than others. I liked that I now had that glow about me, too. A soft golden tan—but I didn’t look like I had just had a spray tan. My legs and arms and face looked fabulous! It made my teeth look so white! For the first time in my life I actually had tan lines.

Although, I could have had a little deeper tan on my chest and stomach area.

Being so pale, I was scared that I would come out looking too dark. After all, I didn’t want to be accused of wearing black face. 

I wanted to look as if I had just gotten back from a week at the beach sporting a naturally soft, even, golden, glowing, sun-kissed tan. And actually, that’s just what I looked like (except for my chest, which looked like I only spent a half day at the beach). I loved it! 

Now the problem was how to have this look always; I cannot break the bank to keep a tan. And, my husband has informed that he will not become the Bruce Willis character in the movie Death Becomes Her, keeping a set of spray paints on hand to keep doing my touch ups (after all, he already does that in photographs!). So, I am learning how to use the self-tanning lotions to get that golden glow I want. It sure takes a lot of effort just to fake it.

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