It is. I’m really trying to recall as much as possible.. it’s like trying to piece together an entire bag of crushed potato crisp
Quote:
Originally Posted by
acidicavex
Should be more draing mentally recalling all those past keep it up
As usual I let CK send me home that evening. However, instead of heading to my apartment block, he held me by the hand and pulled me to an adjacent one, a really tall adjacent one.
Why this particular block? Firstly it was 18 storeys in height, towering over nearly all the others. Secondly, it was a mansionette block, which means there were only housing on alternate floors, therefore the in betweens were just staircase landings. I asked him why are we coming to this block. Block visiting was hardly a legit activity for me. He told me he comes to this block very often after sending me home to smoke and enjoy the view and he wants to share it with me. So we rode the lift right up to the 17th floor.
Give credit where credit is due.. The view from the 17th floor was amazing. In my later years, this spot became sort of my “fortress of solitude” whenever I needed space, peace and quiet. The suburban skylines outlined by the orange glow of the streetlamps gave a tranquil feel to it. For awhile, both of us just stood, leaning against the railing, gazing out into the night scene while enjoying our cigarette.
I broke the silence by thanking him for bringing me to this spot and showing me a part of my neighbourhood that I never knew.
“Tonight the view is nicer…”
“Why?”
“Because tonight the view got you inside also…”
I was instantly dumbfounded, that was the nicest thing a guy ever said to me in recent times.
He leaned forward.
I closed my eyes.
His hands moved from holding my hands to holding my waist.
I breathed heavier.
He reached out and tucked my fringe behind my ear.
I bit my lip.
His breath on my face.
Our lips met…
Thanks. Will try to. It’s work that keeping me awake. Writing the small nuggets of my memoir is a getaway in itself
Quote:
Originally Posted by
dvilla
Finally, hope u are coping well at work, Sis. Sleep early when able.
I started the new year in a phase of life - new school, new classmates and a new boyfriend.
That night at the staircase landing we did more than just a simple kiss. No, we didn’t have sex then; just alot of petting and mostly CK trying to get glimpses of my body. He was trying to look at my downblouse, upblouse, down bra, upskirts and what not. He did attempt to coax me into doing the deed but I refused, I was still scarred by Mark and no way was I gonna do the dirty in a public area.
So the first month of school were mostly orientation activities, tutorial group outings, getting to know new school and classmates. I’d usually leave for school before 6.30 in the morning and only return home no earlier than 9pm at night.
Soon January flew by and came February. My dates with CK were mostly on Saturday and Sundays, with pretty much a set routine - lunch followed by window shopping or a movie. Thereafter we will proceed to dinner and pre-club drinks before partying at our usual haunt. Sundays were more random.
CK wanted to spend valentine’s with him whereas my classmates were declaring an international friendship day and were planning for after school activities. I, of course, was trying to wriggle my way out of whatever after-class celebration they had lined up. So I called in sick on that day and left regretful voicemail messages in as many of my classmates as possible while at the same time wishing them a good “International Friendship Day”
Having managed to worm my way out of my class, I was all set to spend our first VDay together with CK.
So that very morning, I left for school as usual but instead took a detour and met CK at our usual makeout spot - the staircase landing. The plan was to have breakfast, visit a doctor for my “MC” before going to spend the rest of the day with CK. We sat very quietly for almost an hour, trying not to attract the attention of the morning rush crowd. I remember hearing alot of footsteps of people rushing to school, to work.
After obtaining my “MC”, CK decided that we headback to his place first as it was still too early to go galivanting.
CK comes from a broken family. He lives with his aunt who’s and odd job labourer at a hawker centre. His aunt is single and that means there’s no one at home pretty much the entire day.
You put a young couple in an empty house, one can easily expect what’s next… We started making out as soon as we reached his place. After an intense battle of kisses, CK commenced his plan.
In the heat of our kisses, CK had skillfully managed to loosen my skirt. In one swift action, he removed my skirt and before him was my panty clad lower torso. Then he began his work on inching my PE tee upwards, all the while maintaining our frenching. Soon, he had me only dressed in my lingerie, sprawled out on his bed, exposed only to him. CK took his time in taking in the sight and admiring the semi-nude college girl lying before him. Like clockwork, his hands descended upon me, doing what they intended to do. In the heat of the passion and enjoyment, CK removed my panties wihout effort.
He was dangling his prize - my panties, in front of me with a big grin on his face as he laid eyes on my vagina for the 1st time. I half expected CK to plunge his penis into me, when he said he wanted to do something and ran off saying he will be right back. Right, so he left me, nude from waist down lying on his bed dumbstruck…
WTF?
I gasped when CK returned to the room. He held something small and shiny in his hand as he walked towards me.
“Dear dear, you know hor.. I like my girl girl down there to be smooth de.” (or something along these lines) he said to me with a wide grin on his face.
Yes. He was holding a safety razor.
I panicked. In my defence, I have yet to hear of shaving my girly bits, both Brian and Mark took me as I am, however dense I was. The only reason I know why women would shave is to wear bikinis and I’ve never worn one before. Now, my current boyfriend is standing in front of me, about to shave me. My mind was racing. How is this going to feel like? Will it hurt? What if I get cut?
He must have sensed my panicky state of mind.
“No scared de. I do this for a few girls before le.”
Was he trying to calm me down or flex? Though I felt slightly reassured by his “experience”, it also made me feel a little less special. I was asking myself how many other girls has CK been with. The thought did sting; it’s never nice to hear your bf mentioning his past relationships, though he ever mentioned names. He always referred to them as “my ex-gf”.
So he motioned me to spread my legs wider for him. It was totally awkward, looking at my bf who’s focused right on my vagina. Everything happened in slow motion once again, he lowered the razor onto me, I could feel my heartbeat racing, breaths became shorter and and more rapid. I shivered when the cold metal came into contact with me. I closed my eyes. My virgin vaginal shave had begun. I felt stroke after stroke of the razor ploughing through my pubic region.
After what felt like an eternity. CK took me by the hand and pulled me to stand “Ok already”. He opened his wardrobe to reveal a full length mirror plastered on one side of the door and made me look at the aftermath of his labour. A familiar sight greeted me, my girly bits were completely hairless, like how I was back in primary school. I wasn’t sure how to react, it was familiar yet alien at the same time.
“Nice right?”
I couldn’t answer.
“Next time I shave for you hor”
In my confusion, I could only nod my head weakly. CK was the reason I’ve maintained a clean pubic region even till this day. He made it a habit for me.
CK then unhooked my bra and proceeded to remove it, tossing it away. He hugged me by the waist as he took in the full sight of my nudity for the first time.
We resumed making out, slowly inching to the bed. We laid down, deeply frenching the whole time. I could feel his fingers diving in and retracting as he fingered me while the other hand was occupied with squeezing the twins. Then he held me firmly by the waist with both hands, I knew what was next.
CK energetically penetrated me, marking the first of our numerous, numerous sexual intercourses.
So CK was the 3rd guy who fucked me.
And it was a really long relationship (at least for me at the age of 18). We lasted 2 years, all the way through college. Since it was a more legit relationship as compared to Brian, naturally I was more involved, gave more and committed more in it.
Nearly all of my time that weren’t spent in school or my ECAs were spent with him. As my parents were involved in their overseas venture more than ever, I was left to my own devices most of the time. The times they were in town, they would fly in on late Sunday mornings and fly out mid-week. The arrangement was perfect, it meant I could club on Friday and Saturday evenings without much hindrance, save for the auntie who popped by once in a blue moon to check up on the household. Moreover, she doesn’t come by unannounced.
CK practically shifted into my place. Of course, for security’s sake, I would spend Saturday nights at his rather than having him over at my place. As far as you, my reader is concerned, that meant we had sex, ALOT of sex. We went crazy with our sexual life. I would get fucked before leaving for school in the morning, and again at night before we went to bed. And CK was adventurous. There were times when he wanted my clothes to be off from the moment I stepped home until the next time I went out.
He also introduced me to various sexual positions; he introduced me to blowjobs, having taken my oral virginity in the back of a bus one afternoon. He introduced me to have my vagina ravaged by his mouth. And he also shaved me regularl. We were also getting bolder, he started asking me to not wear my bra and panties when we were going out, gradually moving on to having oral sex and him fondling me in public before sex in public and even full nude sex in certain public spots thereafter. I was a dream come true for him - he had always wanted to have sex with a college girlfriend.
On the personal side, I was also getting bolder, my dressing was showing alot more skin than what I knew I was comfortable with. Gone were my tee and jeans fashion collection, replaced by skirts, dress, and various tops that covered me minimally.
The first time he put his tool in me was in a public spot was in pavilion in a park. I remember being really scared and had nightmares of the news headlines “college girl caught copulating with boyfriend in park”. Yes, I was in uniform quite a number of times, doing the dirty with my boyfriend in public.
The first time we had sex in full nudity was at a staircase. We were making out before he nonchanlantly pulled my top off. I was taken aback, but he was trying his best to comfort and coax me. Telling me to try something new. Before I knew it, he stripped me totally before fucking me in doggy style as I held onto a step for support.
Sex with CK was, simply put, a dime a dozen.
It was yet another first for me.
I remember lying on a bed in some hotel, which name have left the confines of my memory, totally spent after my homecoming clubbing night out. I could feel my face fully red and flushed, having been plied uncopious amounts of alchohol just hours before.
It was my homecoming event after studying abroad in UK. My friends decided to throw me a party the very weekend I flew into town for good. I had spent 5 years pursuing my studies abroad, inclusive of a year of internship work just for the experience.
Lots of familiar faces showed up along with new ones.
I danced, smoked and drank the night away, having lived on a tight budget while overseas. I wanted to end the period of fast and abstinece with a loud bang.
So fast forward to the end of night, drunk and high as I was, I vaguely remembered being led out of the club and the next thing I knew, I was laid down on a large bed.
Shortly after, mouths engulfed both my breasts, at this point only did I realise that I was topless. I could barely respond to the sensations I was feeling, though I knew later, from the rocking motions I knew someone was copulating with me.
The next thing that happened? I opened my eyes, still lying on that huge bed in the hotel room and nude. The scene - serene as daybreak in a european suburb. No traces of the sexual happenings just hours before.
By the way, CK and I had broken up just before the end of college exams after being found out by my folks. You could say that my thieving luck finally ran out. They came home early during one of those business trips. Thankfully they didn’t find their sweet little teenage daughter in bed being fucked by him. Then again, the scene wasn’t anything better - I was taking a shower while CK was in my bed and nude.
All hell broke loose, I was nearly disowned and CK, instead of coming to blows with my dad decided to walk away from confrontation. He never called me back since. It was something in the words my dad used on him.
Naturally I score much less than desired in my exams. Both my parents were still ignoring me. It was my mum who caved first, she decided that, and fueled by my enthusiasm, that perhaps some absence would make the heart grow fonder, which it really did. Given my not so fantastic results, I was to continue my tertiary education abroad, while living with a close maternal relative.
So now you know why I was “on a budget” during my studies…
Thanks, though I don’t know what good are these points for..
Quote:
Originally Posted by
BroRelax
Upped you 14 for the great effort!
The breakup definitely had an impact on my studies, not that I wasn’t sufficiently prepared for the papers, I just didn’t have the mood to.
Looking back on “what ifs”, I might have done, I guess, well enough to get into an Arts course in our local unis.
When a window closes, another opens.
In this case, having 2 windows closed on me in close succession was definitely a real stinker.
The 1 good window that opened was that I was sent overseas to continue tertiary education. A little guilty pleasure of mine, I always wanted to live overseas since I was little. I envied the cousins of mine whom I stayed with during my studies. Both of them would show pictures of their travels in fabulous places - Paris, Berlin, Brussels, Amsterdam. Me? I only travelled to Australia, Hong Kong and most parts of South East Asia. Work didn’t permit my folks to take long hols.
My uncle and aunt were the ones who suggested that I come to study in the UK. Afterall, with the growing tensions at home, all it would have taken was a tiny spark to blow things out of proportion.
Because of what happened, my parents refused to eat at the same table as me. Actually, it was my dad mostly, mum just followed, playing the role of pacifier whenever my dad (nearly) blew up.
I was grounded, given zero allowance, prohibited to leave the home unless my mum brought me out. Dad refused to go anywhere or do anything. I wasn’t allowed to have stayovers at my class celebratory chalets, having to give the excuse that “relatives were in town” and therefore I have family commitments. Hell I was expected, no, instructed to leave before dinnertime, before the bbqs even began.
My page went poof! Parents cancelled the line and I had to cook up the excuse of losing the pager to my friends. The corded phone in my room was removed as well as the cordless phone in the house. All calls for me were to be taken in the living room, the phone strategically placed just outside my parents’ bedroom.
I didn’t have a laptop, so the desktop at home was monitored pretty tightly. Dad deleted IRC, ICQ and what have yous. Mum was expected to be in the living room with me whenever I used the internet.
My parents even brought me to school to collect my results, I fraternised a little with my schoolmates, but left immediately after picking up my results slip. “Relatives were in town” was the official excuse.
Readers… that was a recap of my life in “North Korea”.
Study in the UK was a huge and welcome relief.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
hi2u
Welcome back sis. Looking forward to more of your updates. I also had my fair share of r/s that affected my academics so it is ok. Keep updating
Job search wasn’t easy when you’re an overseas graduate from a lesser known university. I kinda felt biased against in a way.
After months of sending resumes and attending interviews, I got hired as a sales and marketing assistant in a technical industry. The team I worked with wasn’t huge, 4 of us including the manager, unlike during my internship stint in the UK. The team comprised of the manager, 2 senior execs and me. I only found out later that one of the 2 senior execs was on her way and I was the replacement headount. In the meantime I had a dotted line reporting to the other senior exec who was tasked with mentoring me. And he’s the next guy who managed to bed me. Let’s name him Justin.
Being the more senior of the 2 senior execs, and the one who wasn’t on the way out, my manager instructed me to shadow Justin and learn everything. It was a relief to me as my manager was a well-known slave driver, expecting tasks to be completed yesterday. She’s basically Miranda Priestly of “The Devil Wears Prada” in the flesh. Yea, god knows why I even accepted the job offer in the first place.
Justin wasn’t like CK, who was loud, flamboyant or anything. Just the regular male office worker, one no one would notice in a crowd. He was 1 astrology cycle my senior, in his late 30s. Soft spoken, neat and proper. You’d hardly ever find me with a stray hair out of place. Long story short, I knew Justin had a thing for me shortly after commencing work. He would make small talk with me sheepishly and I caught stealing glances at me at work - he sat adjacent to me in the office.
Shortly after I was promoted to junior exec, my manager sent Justin and I to a trade show on the purpose of networking and gathering market intelligence. The trade show was a 4-day event held in Thailand with a gala-dinner held on the final night as a wrap up. The days in Thailand was spent surveying the hundreds of companies on exhibition, speaking to representatives, making business connections. Nights were spent in long distance skype calls with our manager to debrief and report the day’s progress while we receive new instructions.
I was extremely estatic that we were booked to attend the gala dinner on the final night of the event. It meant no 3-hour call to our manager back in Singapore. It was a moment of relaxtion for me.
All sorts of alcohol flowed freely there, I remember drinking lots of champagne, egged on by the numerous toasts from the many many business acquaintances made during the trade show. Naturally Justin and I got high from the huge amounts of drink. Our newly acquainted business contacts, mainly Caucasians can hold their liquor really well! We retreated to our rooms in a drunken stupor.
Now we were booked to stay in a service apartment with 2 bedrooms. When we got back to the apartment, we were joking and recalling events experience from the days before. Soon our conversation topics became more personal and the topic - office eye candy was brought up. I shared mine first, listing a few guys from the other departments. Then Justin shared his…
“So who’s your eye candy in the office?” I asked gingerly.
There was a brief moment of silence. I asked again, really thinking that perhaps in my drunk mumblings he couldn’t catch what I was saying.
“You” came the reply…