Why Sex Isn’t For Me

 

My first vague memory about this subject comes from a very young age, 4 years old.

I remember clearly as day light that I was rubbing myself on a long shaped pillow. I remember so well the sound of my mother’s voice she was so embarrassed “Scarlett STOP THAT”, at 4 years old all I knew was that it felt good.

Fast forward a few years I’m now 14 going on 15 and I guess you could say that I was a little like the Nabokov’s portrait of a nymphet. I found an older boy and I blossomed for him like a flower. I remember that sex was not what I’ve imagined it would be at least not for my immature unready still childish body.

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Why Sex Isn’t For Me

Confessions Of A Third-Wheeler

the-third-wheel
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I don’t know what I’m going to name this yet, but I’m hoping I’ll find out soon at the end of this post.

I didn’t plan on writing this, I actually didn’t even plan on opening the WordPress App this evening and certainly not opening my heart to it.

It’s weird when you decide you’ll openly start writing your personal and most intimate thoughts online for the whole world to see but maybe it would be easier for me, a few years back, if I knew what I know now and hopefully I can help a broken-heart somewhere and somehow.

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Confessions Of A Third-Wheeler