Flashback – 28-May-1988 – Virginity lost and a slut awakened

Yes, I said 1988. And what of it? I’m old. We cougars are old – and that is part of our charm. Well, that and our sex drives.

Since this #cougar #ho is not getting any #peen for the foreseeable future (God. Dammit. To. Hell. Where you at, PG?!), this flashback is going to have to do. Sorry, guys, it is the best I can do right now.

This is the story of how Honeytoes lost her virginity (and a few exploits that happened soon after), in case you’re not quick enough to figure that out from the title of this post. It has been a hot minute (okay…decades) since this happened, so details will be sketchy.


28-May-1988

It was the end of my junior year of high school. Back then, I wanted to be a lawyer (because I like to argue – #learnme) and I decided to take Latin. It is truly one of the most useful classes I have ever taken – and not only because it made the scene with the Centurion and Brian in Monty Python’s Life of Brian even more hilarious. (Here’s a non sequitur for you: My most favorite sweatshirt that I ever had read “Da mihi osculum. Latine loquor.” and that means “Kiss me. I speak Latin.” I’ve always been a dork. No, no one ever kissed me as a result of the sweatshirt.) #dontjudgeme #geeklife

Onward.

As it happens, there is this organization called the PA Junior Classical League. It is meant to bring together high school Latin students who can let their Latin freak flags fly and to share their love of the language and history. It still exists! This organization holds conventions and my Latin teacher thought that we should attend and show off our skills. It was being held at a local college and those of us in the Latin Club all got to attend. They had tests about Latin stuff (history, clothing, daily life…Your Honeytoes actually won an award in the test for daily life). Oddly, I made a ceramic urn in my ceramics class at school and entered it into the ceramics art category. I won first place! It wasn’t that impressive, but whatever. I got a blue ribbon. I still have both the urn and the blue ribbon. Why? I don’t have the heart to dispose of either.

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There were also lectures about Latin stuff and a giant toga party because it is what one does at a Latin-themed event. I donned my finest (and only) toga praetexta and headed to the toga party with my then BFF Becky. There was music and dancing and boys – lots of boys. Becky and I were in our bliss. I don’t specifically remember how, but I somehow ended up bringing back a boy to my room. As high school kids, we thought it was pretty cool that we were in college dorm rooms.

I do believe that cherry schnapps and Coke were somehow involved. I was NOT a drinker. In fact, at a party where everyone else was drinking, I called my mom to come get me. Once I hit college, all hell broke loose, but that’s a story for another day. I digress.

I had a little schnapps and Coke (not even a full glass…just a few sips, so I was not even buzzed) as we listened to the cassette tape of The Cure’s Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me over and over and over again. (I had a cool boom box with the auto-reverse function.) Before I knew what happened, a kid with blonde curly hair (think Christopher Atkins in The Blue Lagoon) was thrusting into me, bringing me into womanhood. His name was John and he was from Wyomissing. That’s all I know of that boy who deflowered me. It wasn’t pretty, but he got the job done. I was eager to lose my virginity and this boy did his part. Thank you, John from Wyomissing, wherever you are!

Becky came back to the room after the deed had been done. I was sitting on the bed with the sheets wrapped around me and a shit-eating grin on my face. We screamed in glee. She had lost her virginity already and she was excited that I was now in the club.

The next day we were home and Becky and I went to her boyfriend’s house where a few of his friends were hanging out. There was a totes hot guy there named Christian (using his real name ’cause he’s dead now – R.I.P. Christian – I had nothing to do with that.) and before I knew it, your Honeytoes blossomed into a slut! I don’t remember the details of that hookup, but I do remember how big his dick was. It was a girthy, stretch-out-yo-vagina kind of dick that I now love so very much.

There were several more sexual encounters soon thereafter, including me having sex with two high school kids (yes, at the same time) from Kansas in Kiev, Ukraine. (In case you are interested, in addition to Kiev, our group traveled to Moscow, Odessa, St. Petersburg, and Minsk.) Long story short, I was a student ambassador with the program People to People International for three weeks in June-July 1988. It was still the Soviet Union at the time. There were groups of high school kids who traveled around to different cities and we kept running into the same groups of kids.

Again, details are hazy because of time, but I do remember being spit roasted by these two dudes. (If I remember correctly, these guys were numbers 4 and 5 in my sequence of sexual conquests, though I’ll be damned if I can remember who the third guy was…might have been my then boyfriend. Who knows? And who really cares?) They grow ’em big in Kansas, kids! These corn-fed boys had huge arms. Interestingly, I do remember looking out the window of the hotel and seeing the Mother Motherland monument as I was being fouled by Shane and Rob. Good times.

…and always remember: Ho is life, y’all!

Sluttily yours,
Honeytoes
#notesfromaslut #honeytoes #hoislife

 

 

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