I was 17 - his name was Shawn and he was adorable. We were at a party for a mutual friend's birthday and had never laid eyes (or anything else) on each other before.
I was recently out of my first real relationship. The one that taught me about both the beauty and disillusionment that comes from one boy being your first everything. First make-out session. First nudity. First blow job. First Sex. And all the gloriously tentative steps leading up to each of those milestones.
Dave, asshole though he was, opened me up in so many ways. He made my delicate soft petals blossom into their first glow of sensuality. And once those petals have unclenched, it's impossible for them to retreat back into a tight bud of innocence again. Those petals now crave to feel the heat and wetness of the sun and dew with increasing longing and regularity.
They burst forth more easily and quickly with each new stimulation. And Shawn? He stimulated right to the core of those nubile succulent petals. All the way down to the roots.
The second I saw him I couldn't take my eyes from his. And I was shocked to find that he responded. Soon he was sitting in a corner with me and the hostess - equally charming and alluring.
I gazed into his brown eyes and found myself drowning in their depths. I felt an increasingly familiar heat fall over me. I's never actually felt lust for anyone until that point in my life. But lust is what it was- unequivocally.
His lips pouted sexily and begged to be sucked and nibbled on as he talked to me of the most innocent things. I had the urge to crawl into his lap and shove my tongue in his mouth. To guide his hands to my breasts and feel that jolt between my legs as he squeezed them and pinched my nipples.
My last boyfriend had been an asshole, yet I gave it up to him anyhow. What would I be willing to do for someone who turned me on like this? Almost anything I'd wager.
But that night? I was caught up in my own insecurities. I had no idea what to do with this heat and desire. It overwhelmed me almost to the point of incapacitation. So I did nothing. I talked, and acted demure - certain that my feelings (of lust) would not be returned.
The next day I found this was untrue - it turns out he had thought I was hot. Unfortunately, life intervened, and he and the hostess lost touch. Neither of us ever saw him again.
A lost opportunity that still haunts me half a lifetime later.
Want to read about more sexy Lost Opportunities? Why not check out these other bloggers?
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