Female • 18 • Thailand
We met in an expat bar in Bangkok. I had just graduated from high school and gotten a job as a nanny for an international family. It was my first time living outside of Canada, and everything about life seemed exciting and novel. The guy and a friend of his sat down with two tiny Asian girls at a table near the one I was sitting at with a group of girlfriends I'd only just met. We soon started talking. He confided that he didn't know the girls his friend had invited along, that they barely spoke English, and that he was bored. He told me he was from Canada too, and it felt like we had something in common. He bought me a drink. He was in his late twenties, had an impressive career, and had lived all over the world. He seemed sophisticated and mature, though I didn't initially find him good-looking.
Soon we were friends. We were both new to the city, and we would try new restaurants and bars together. He smoked Du Maurier cigarettes and told stories about exotic places where he had lived or traveled. He was completely different from the guys in high school. It took a long time for him to kiss me, and when he did I was confused about whether I wanted to be friends or something more. Regardless, a week later, I went out of town for a weekend for my job, and when I came back he was seeing someone else.
I was confused and hurt, and I made him take me out to dinner to explain — to dump me properly, I guess. I wore high heels and a borrowed mini-skirt, wanting him to regret his decision. But he was nice about it. He explained that he hadn't felt like I wanted a relationship, and the other girl — a mutual friend of ours — had made it clear that she did.
Still, I resented the fact that he had chosen to end it with me. I'd never even really kissed a guy before him, and he was sexually experienced, knew where to touch me and how. I didn't feel ready to end things, but I agreed that it was just as well that we just stay friends. After dinner, he asked me to his place to watch a movie, and I went. By the time we were twenty minutes into the movie we were kissing on the couch. We made out in his bed and he told me it was okay — it was an "adjustment period." I stayed over, and felt guilty in the morning.
We hooked up for months while he was seeing the other girl. He would tell me he wanted to be with me, that things with his girlfriend weren't working but she was emotionally unstable and he couldn't leave her. He made me feel beautiful and sexy and I still didn't want to end things, even though most of the time I was lonely and jealous. He would text me when I was out with my girlfriends and I'd end up sleeping at his place downtown. My friends didn't like him, but at the time I couldn't see why. I was young and naive and thought they just didn't understand him. He kept pushing me to go further sexually, but I couldn't bring myself to lose my virginity to a guy who was cheating on his girlfriend with me. At one point, trying to make him jealous, I hooked up with the friend of his I'd met in the bar with him the first night.
Eventually, his girlfriend went away to visit her family in Australia, and we spent the whole time together. We stayed in eating takeout and smoking pot, watching movies and fooling around. It felt like the "real" relationship I'd never had before. When his girlfriend got back, he broke up with her.
A few weeks later, we were fooling around in bed before he left for work in the morning. I was on my stomach and he was holding himself over me and kissing my neck, the head of his dick pressing on my cunt. I raised my hips towards him, and taking it as an invitation, he pushed forward and suddenly he was inside of me. I'd always thought we would talk about it beforehand — decide what to do. I'd thought I would feel more than I felt. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel great either, and all I could think was, "Well, there goes that. I guess I'm not a virgin anymore."
We rolled onto our sides and finished in a spoon position. He pulled out and came on my back, and I felt relieved that it was over. He got me a cloth from the bathroom to clean up and then he held me and we talked. I was upset, but I felt like I shouldn't be. He told me it was okay, that it was better because it wasn't awkward. It had happened "naturally." He was two hours late for work that morning and I found that oddly comforting.
I hadn't felt ready, but I decided that since I'd already lost it I might as well keep having sex with him. I came to his place when I finished work that night and we had sex again, with me on top. That second time, I couldn't believe how good it felt. Our relationship lasted for nearly a year. Amazingly, when I found out he was cheating on me, I was surprised.