As a teenager, there is a lot to be embarrassed about. Discovering sex is definitely one of them. Nobody knows what they are doing when they are young, even if they pretend they do. While some lessons come with time, others come with experience. When these lessons come with experience, there is almost always an embarrassing story that goes with them. I would love to tell you that I learned all of my lessons on sex with time, but alas, I would be lying. It also would not make for a great story time or read. So, let me take you on the journey of how I learned to keep private things private.
Let me set the scene for you: two teenagers with all the teenage hormones and the freedom of all the backroads (all wooded areas). Let’s just say things were going down. Specifically, I was going down on my then-boyfriend.
Things were hot and heavy, and I was super into it at the time. One thing led to another, and suddenly, I was completely shirtless with my full tatas out. We were on a backroad somewhere deep in the woods. All of a sudden, a car drove up to ours and stopped. I was so into everything I was completely oblivious to what was happening. When I finally realized something was going on, I looked up to find that a mailman had stopped next to our vehicle. As they were looking in, they decided to give my ex-boyfriend two thumbs up for all the action happening in the vehicle before driving away.
I was mortified.
I was 16, and I never expected to be completely exposed to a stranger like that. Was I naive? Yes. Was I embarrassed? Oh, absolutely. Beyond embarrassed. If I could have died right then, I probably would have. Am I still embarrassed about it to this day? Yup. Needless to say, my backroad blow job experience may have become the talk of the postal service workers that day.
While this was hella embarrassing, it taught me the very important lesson that if I want something to remain private, I must do it in private. Not on a backroad in the back of a neighborhood in the middle of the woods. Or at least if I was going to give blow jobs in the car, I should keep my shirt on. Both are valuable pieces of advice to the younger generation reading this.
Now, ten years later, as a 26-year-old, I couldn’t imagine doing something this “wild.” (Trust me, I know this isn’t as wild as it could be.)
Being caught going down on my husband and being caught by the mailman would be more of a “well, someone is hiding from the kids” rather than a “young dumb teenager.” But it wouldn’t make it less of an embarrassing thought. Actually, now that I think about it, it would probably be more embarrassing. Nonetheless, I can promise I learned my lesson. And from then forward, I vowed to only complete sex acts in the privacy of a home. While I lost the rush of experiencing random sexual acts and hiding from my parents, I felt much more comfortable, safe, and free to do the things my 16-year-old self yearned to try.