My First Blow-Job

My First Blow-Job

I was in fifth grade and hanging out with the cool kids, or rather in their vicinity. Most of them were white with blue eyes, wore nice clothes with logos and had more than one pair of shoes, while I was brown with B.O. and my mom only bought me plain T-shirts because that way a few shirts could be disguised as a full wardrobe with enough laundering and mixing and matching. Boo-fucking-hoo, but that’s beside the point.

So I was lingering around, lying to kick it and trying to be cool through association when they started talking about Travis James and Samantha Smith. Both had names cooler than I could ever hope to be in a million years and were the envy of everyone, especially me. I wanted my ears pierced and hair bleached like him and wanted to do her, even though I had no idea what doing it entailed.
“So they were at Mike Ching’s party scamming and then she gave him a blow-job,” someone said, and everyone was like “wow,” or “no way,” or “what a slut,” or “what a pimp.” And all I could think was, “why were they ripping each other off and couldn’t he just dry his own hair?”

Little did I know scamming was making out and a blow-job was fellatio, head, pole-smoking, going down, essing his d, etc. I naively thought that he washed his hair, and she dried it for him just like my mom always did for my older sister. So I said to myself “why is she a slut? That’s pretty nice if you ask me.” But no one was even talking to me and like a fool who thought he saw an opportunity to bridge the gap between mediocrity and cooldom, I chimed in with, “yeah, my mom gives my sister blow-jobs all the time.”

If we were in a movie the record would scratch, everyone would look at me and Nelson from the Simpson’s would laugh, “HAHA,” punch me and walk away while crickets cricked in the background. Instead this was real life and no one who was in that circle of conversation ever looked at me the same, or different, again, and probably went on to call me “Blowjob boy” which, truth be told, once I found out what a blow-job really was, couldn’t make me happier…