Bi Teen First Time

Bi Teen First Time
YOU WANT YOUR MTV, AND PARAMOUNT+ HAS IT
'What if I touch your vagina and all of a sudden I feel this emotional connection to be with you?'
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A lot of kids, curious about the world around them, find themselves wondering about the body. Since sexuality is taboo when you're a kid, lot of us missed on learning from experience exploring the body -- and that's where a new series of videos comes in.
YouTube channel Bria and Chrissy has created a series that explores that concept. Not every person has seen every part on every body, especially if a their sexuality precludes them from seeing certain folks naked.
That's why when Bria and Chrissy created " Lesbians Touch a Penis for the First Time ," it struck a chord and went viral, garnering over 28 million views and kicking off conversations about peoples' bodies, sexuality, and how the two intersect.
In their new video, " Straight Women Touch Another Vagina For The First Time ," volunteer Stevie welcomes three cis, straight women to touch a vagina that isn't their own, and like all the other videos in the series, it's a eye-opening experience.
"I grew up Catholic, so I feel like there is a lot of guilt associated with exploring your own body," one of the volunteers states, echoing the idea that because the world sexualizes the body in all situations, touching yourself -- and especially other people -- is always considered sexual.
As for the volunteers, one is markedly nervous about the upcoming experience, but all three are totally open and honest about what they're about to do. One remarks, "All of my girlfriends, including myself as well, do this," as she grabs Stevie's breast, making a good point about what is socially acceptable touching between some people.
All in all, the experience proved valuable, highlighting that not every touch is sexually charged. "I think it's very disrespectful and rude and offensive to sexualize everything that woman does," the volunteer continues. "I'm not an object, I'm a human being and interactions with other people, and they don't have to be sexualized."
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08/03/2017 02:59pm GMT | Updated March 9, 2017
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Engagement Editor, HuffPost South Africa
Please note, this article contains graphic depictions of sexual assault.
I was about five years old when I first touched a penis. I didn't want to, but I did. He was a family member in his teens. We were watching television at my grandmother's house when he motioned for me to come sit on his lap. Slowly, he moved his hands up my skirt and touched my vulva. Then he moved my hand towards his crotch and had me feel him up. I didn't want to, but I did.
I was about 10 years old when I first saw a penis. I didn't want to, but I did. He was a random man on the street. I was on my way to buy bread at the local Spar. I had just turned the corner from our street when a man sat down on the ramp leading up to the building on my left. His sudden movement caught my attention so I looked in his direction and there it was, his penis peeking through the shorts he was wearing, against his thigh. I thought it was a mistake but then the same man, a number of times after that, did the same thing. I recognised him after that and so each time I saw him, I crossed the street. I didn't want to see it, but I did.
When I was 13, I was sitting in my Grade 7 English class when one of the boys whispered my name. When I turned around there it was, his penis in his hands. I was shocked and turned around without a word. We were sitting right at the back of the class so the teacher had no idea what was going on. Some of the other kids giggled -- boys and girls. I was embarrassed. He then said: "I showed you mine, now you show me yours." I didn't, but no matter what I did, I could not unsee his.
When I was 25 I was at a party with my friends. We had been drinking and celebrating a birthday. At some point I got tired but there was no space on the couch. I decided to put my legs on the laps of everyone on the couch while the rest of my body leaned onto an ottoman next to it. There was a blanket over my legs. Suddenly, I felt a hand reach over and touch my crotch. I froze for a few seconds, shocked and unsure of what was happening to me. I then moved the man's hand from my crotch hoping that he would stop. The more I pushed his hand away the more he pushed back, now trying to unbutton my jeans. I moved, put two ottomans together and uncomfortably lay on them until I could fall asleep. As soon as the sun came up, I drove home with my best friend. I didn't want that man to touch me, but he did.
Every single one of the men in the above scenarios committed a crime. It is a crime to expose yourself to someone without their consent. It is a crime to force someone to touch your genitals. It is a crime to touch someone's genitals without consent. The Criminal Law (S exual Offences and Related Matters) Amendment Act 32 of 2007, explicitly lays this out. These and other similar acts are defined as sexual assault. I didn't know then, and I can bet good money that many people do not know either now. These acts are not just harassment -- they are explicit violations.
But even if I knew, I just did not have the courage to say it out loud. In each instance, my voice crawled deep into a dark room within my larynx and closed the door shut. When it finally unlocked the door, my voice came out weak, and I felt like the time to speak had come and gone.
I also wondered about what would happen if I did speak up. What would I say? If our society fails to take rape seriously, then what happens when "all" someone did was touch me inappropriately or show me his penis. There's a minimisation of these kinds of violations and assaults. If it is not violent in the age-restricted definition, then it didn't happen or it is not that big a deal. We're seeing this play out in the way the Okmalumkoolkat defense force argues : it wasn't rape, he just made a mistake. It was the alcohol that made him walk into a woman's room, fondle her and tell her to keep quiet. It was his brokenness that made him do it .
Rape culture is rife. Not only in South Africa, but in the world. It continues to thrive, cushioned by a comfortable denialism from various sects of our society. Just the other day, Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka highlighted the fact that violence plagues women more than any other thing in the world. And what rape culture does is shame us and teach us to be silent about it.
Rape culture teaches us that when men catcall us, when they call us names for not wanting to speak to them, when they grab our arms as we walk past them, when they flash their penises at us, when they kiss us without our permission, add pills to our drinks, give us alcohol to help us "loosen up", they are just being men. It's what they do and our protesting is us being difficult, it's us trying to "change the rules of the game". At what point does a 13-year-old boy learn that if he shows a girl his penis then she must show him her vulva? At what point does a teenage boy decide that it is OK for him touch all his toddler girl cousins? What makes them do that is rape culture. It is not a myth -- it is women's reality.
On Wednesday night, I had the honour of attending the first ever Women's Assembly at the University of the Witwatersrand, my alma mater. The event was entitled: The Fear Factory, a term coined in Prof Pumla Gqola's book "Rape". Gqola herself was the main speaker, and student activists performed and spoke about the importance of feminist activism in all spaces. The fear factory is about the manufactured feeling of fear that allows for rape and its culture to thrive in our society. You can read an explanation of it from her book in this extract.
The manufacturing of fear is about power. In the conversation on Wednesday, Gqola spoke about disrupting the status quo and refusing to remain silent even though society dictates we should be. She said feminists needed to stop seeing fear as a dirty concept, and confront it. While our desire is to overcome and claim our place as survivors we should not be afraid to be victims too because patriarchy and violence victimise us. We should own our fear, this way we can confront it. Fear does not make us weak.
Each time I did not say anything about what happened to me I was afraid I was afraid of what my family would say, what my friends would think or what my teacher would say, and then I was afraid of what I would do to the career of a young man who has a future ahead of him. I couldn't just speak. What I didn't realise what that all this fear came from me wanting to protect others and neglect myself. Rape culture forces us to neglect ourselves because you cannot air our dirty laundry for others to see. These conversations are not for the world, they are secret and shameful.
Often we are told not to be angry, not to fight back, not to rage but rather to behave, remain in line and forgive. On Wednesday night, activist and filmmaker Beverley Palesa Ditsie said she did not understand why women were not fighting harder, why we were not defending ourselves.
"If women were a country under siege, then we would long have called a state of emergency," she said.
A war is being waged against our bodies and we should not be afraid to fight back.
I didn't ask to touch a penis that first time. I didn't ask to see a penis that first time, or the second time. I didn't ask for a man to try and force hands down my pants at a party. I am not the one who did anything wrong, they are. It's their shame to carry. Not mine.
Engagement Editor, HuffPost South Africa

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[Narrator] I was 18 and moved to New York for college.
In high school I was an overachiever.
did over 600 hours of volunteer work,
and in my senior year, I took eight classes
But college was going to be different.
I knew what I wanted and what I wanted was sex.
The on-ampus housing staff must've had a cruel sense
of humor because we had the same name.
But the similarities stopped there.
Her half of the closet was bright pink dresses
and my half was shades of gray skinny jeans.
She was so chipper and earnest and nice,
so I continually found reasons to blow her off.
I got what my doctor would later call
the worst case of mono I've ever seen
from a grungey guy I hooked up with
after pretending to like death metal.
So now I was bedridden and miserable.
I ended up spending a lot of time with my roommate.
Lindsay took care of me, bringing me protein shakes
with a straw when I was too sick to eat.
And suddenly we were great friends.
Once I recovered from my four month stint with mono,
I was wearing a dress and had some sort of
cleavage situation going on, trying so hard to fit into
my idea of what it meant to go out, hook up, flirt.
It all felt like such a costume and it was.
I think Lindsay even got me to dance,
but it was the most fun I'd had since I started college.
We went back to our dorm room that night
We hugged and the hug just never seemed to end.
Literally, we were just standing there in the middle of our
tiny room, embracing each other for maybe 20 minutes
longer, neither of us saying anything.
I asked her if she wanted to stay in my bed that night
so we could keep hugging, you know, as friends do.
So we're in this tiny twin bed and we're spooning,
I was surprisingly the little spoon,
I could feel her nod yes into the back of my neck.
Even more time goes by and I still haven't fallen asleep
and the sun is coming up and I ask her again, are you awake?
I ask her, do you want me to kiss you?
We couldn't stop, even after both of our mouths were dry
and the whole time I couldn't stop thinking,
what the fuck is happening right now?
This went on for months, slowly escalating
not only physically but emotionally,
hooking up in secret and still totally convinced
that we were both straight, we were just best friends,
this is totally just what best friends did.
Long story short, we're still roommates and best friends,
Since that first dorm room we've lived in
nine apartments together, upgrading from a twin dorm bed
to a full sized IKEA about a year ago.
When I started college, I felt so sure of what I wanted.
I wanted to have casual sex with guys, but here I am,
five years later, I don't wear dresses,
I'm always the big spoon, and I'm a lesbian.
Though not everything changed, I'm still a nerd
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Can you remember back to the first time you saw an erect penis?
Probably not – and we don’t blame you, it’s probably not something you’d really feel the need to remember.
But lots of girls do and they’re talking about it over on a Reddit thread after someone asked the question: ‘ Girls, what did you think when you saw an erect penis for the first time? ’
Oh, and if you hadn’t guessed already, this article is incredibly NSFW.
1. ‘I was confused because the typical penis boys draw is very misleading. Before, I always thought that the balls were in two separate sacks. Very confusing indeed.’
2. ‘Before I saw one I’d assumed a penis became erect still pointing down. I’d never seen any porn or anything and yeah, i figured sex would be a logistical nightmare. In my head, when I saw it pointing up, I was kind of like “ohhhhhh that totally makes sense now!”‘
3. ‘I was about ten and saw it on the Internet. Thought it was a diseased finger.’
4. ‘How is that going to fit inside me?!’
5. ‘When I was 18, I walked in on my roommate’s naked boyfriend. When I saw that tiny thing sticking out, I thought ‘Is that IT!?”
6. ‘HE HAS A BONER! Wow, i must be hot after all.’
7. ‘My thought process went a little something like ‘OMG I’m at least somewhat sexually arousing. I like this penis. Wait… he shaved. He was expecting this. I wanna touch it. Yup, this thing is great. And so soft. I have no idea what to do. Why do I wanna put it in my mouth? I’m gonna put it in my mouth. Yup, this is fun.’ D*cks are awesome.’
9. ‘It looks like an alien worm protruding from his crotch.’
10. ‘Is that supposed to be hot? If so, I think I might be broken.’
11. ‘I thought it would be way further down, like where a vagina is.’
12. ‘It really does look like a lollipop.’
13. ‘Wait, is that what a boner is?’
14. ‘Huh. So that’s why I like girls more.’

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