Teenage Girl Sex Stories
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Teenage Girl Sex Stories
DEAR DEIDRE My wife has left me for our son's headteacher and the whole town are talking
BOTTLED IT My fiancé swears at me and puts me down every time he gets drunk
NOT-SO-SWEET DREAMS I fantasise about my wife's friends when we make love
HARD AT WORK My new job makes me feel so stressed that I've started having panic attacks
DEAR DEIDRE: I HAVE been having sex with my friend’s son.
I didn’t seduce him but his mum says I obviously must have offered him sex on a plate and blames me.
My team and I are working safely from home but we are here to help you as always.
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I am 32 and he’s 19. He seemed a kid a year ago but very much a man when he came home from university after they closed in the spring.
We chatted at my friend’s birthday barbecue in the summer and I had far more to drink than usual.
He was flirting outrageously, telling me I looked so young I could pass for a student. It boosted my ego.
We ended up slipping away from the party and went upstairs to his room.
All the time he was kissing me he was undressing me too and we ended up having sex. It blew my mind.
The next day I felt so guilty I texted him to say we should stay away from each other but he bombarded me with texts and insisted we carry on seeing one another. He was too hot to refuse.
He had a row with his mum one day and blurted out about us. She’s stopped speaking to me.
She believes I cradle snatched her son. His dad and older sisters are not speaking to me either.
I confided in my mum and sister, and they disapprove and told me I shouldn’t get into a relationship with him.
Everyone blames me because I am older, and they think I took advantage.
Nothing could be further from the truth. He’s the one who insists we carry on and gets angry if I argue.
He’s been away at uni since October. Of course I couldn’t visit him but we’ve been very close online.
He’s told his family he’s seeing a girl at uni now, but he tells me he loves me and wants to tell them the truth when he gets home, which will be any day now. I am so scared of their reaction.
Do I call it off and do what everyone else wants, or carry on and risk losing everyone I care about?
AFTER finding love, we might assume our relationship will look after itself.
But we all change, and relationships require time and attention.
My e-leaflet Your Relationship MoT can help you avoid a crisis.
DEIDRE SAYS: It is unfair that everyone blames you. Of course it takes two to tango, but your instinct to call a halt to the fling right from the start was right.
Now you need to let age and experience speak and take a firmer line with your young lover. Be firm that it’s over.
He’s got no right to get angry. It’s probably linked to quite separate tensions with his family but that’s all the more reason to do what is best for you.
It’s not just the age gap, though at 19 he is looking for a very different experience from what is right for you.
You are risking losing people you care about and who care about you. They can see what you are not seeing right now.
Cut free from this guy and move on with your life.
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I wasn’t ready for my son to begin a sexual relationship with his girlfriend. When he did, I had two choices: deal with it or freak out. I chose to use his admission as a teachable moment for both of us.
It was a cold winter afternoon in January, just after my oldest son’s 16th birthday, when he cornered me in the kitchen and said, “I think my girlfriend and I are going to have sex. Actually, I know we are. We really want to.”
He looked a little scared, a little excited and a whole lot like my baby speaking a strange, foreign language that I couldn’t process.
It took me a few painful seconds to plaster a compassionate smile on my face and speak in a calm, collected tone. “So,” I said, “what are your plans?” Like a detective, I knew better than to say anything that would cause my son to hesitate telling his story.
He told me they had already figured it all out. They would pack a blanket and, because they wanted to be smart, a bunch of condoms. He said they planned to “do it on the beach at night,” because (romance isn’t dead) that’s where they met.
Let’s pause here for a moment. My son told me he planned on engaging in his first sexual encounter, in public, in winter. I had a few seconds to respond in a way that kept him talking, but didn’t betray my real feelings of, “ Holy shit! Are you insane? ”
“Hmm,” I replied. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” He looked insulted. I could see the light of teenage subterfuge in his eyes. I remembered that look well. It was one I often gave my own parents and it said all I needed to know: He was doing this whether I liked it or not.
I had a split-second decision to make. Should I forbid him from fornicating? Should I say nothing? Should I allow it? All the options seemed wrong. If ever there was a time I felt “damned if I did, damned if I didn’t,” this was it.
Throughout both of my sons’ lives my husband and I had been open and honest about any topic they broached, including sex. From the time they could ask about anything that piqued their curiosity, we answered. This was done with the belief that trust was pertinent to healthy parent-child relationships and that arming our kids with facts, not fairy tales, would help them make smart decisions.
This was especially important to me because I was once a teenage mother and high school dropout. I didn’t want either of my sons to make the same choices as I had and change the trajectory of their lives, just because they got horny.
My kids were both well versed on my views of premarital, underage sex: I didn’t condone or encourage it, but if they chose to have sex, I expected them to be smart enough to wear a condom, every single time. I also wanted them to be picky with who they chose — since even the most careful sexual encounters could lead to pregnancy or sexually transmitted diseases.
With that being said, I was smart enough to know that I couldn’t stop the inevitable. There comes a point in each parent’s life where he or she has to let go and accept that his or her children are growing up. Sex is a natural progression in everyone’s life. I couldn’t keep my son from pursuing physical intimacy with someone he loved anymore than I could keep him from growing taller.
So I did what every parent at some point must do — I had to accept my son’s decision even if I wasn’t ready for it. One benefit of being open and accepting with my son was that he trusted my advice. It made it easier for me to convince him that public lovemaking in temperatures below 50 degrees F was a dumb idea, for anyone.
A few weeks later, “it” happened. It wasn’t outside, it wasn’t unprotected and my son felt comfortable enough to talk to me about the experience.
Was it weird to hear my son tell the tale of losing his virginity? Absolutely. But the open line of communication only helped us grow closer.
He has come to me with other adult issues that he may not have felt comfortable sharing had I been more closed-minded or judgmental. Each step has been new and a bit awkward, but ultimately helped me understand who he is as a young man and what he values.
And as for the girlfriend? It’s been two years and they’re still together, still in love and planning a big, grown-up future with each other. Thankfully, I’m included in the discussion of their plans and dreams, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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My (So) Bad for March 10, 2008 By Audrey Fine PUBLISHED: Mar 10, 2008
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"One day I was at the bus stop alone with this supercute guy who I really liked. I thought that he hated me, but boy was I so wrong! Well, we were just standing there getting bored, and before I knew it, he kissed me! I was in total shock and couldn't move or talk until the bus came! That sure was a great way to start off the day!"
"So, there was this girl Emily in my freshman class who was SO conceited. Seriously, she worshipped the ground she walked on. I didn't like her because she's the school slut, but everyone else seemed to think she was so nice. Well, I recently found out that she was addicted to drugs and sex. I felt so bad for not liking her after that."
"I went to the movies with an old friend, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's friend. I thought her BF was really hot, and he must have thought I was too because he kept staring at me. Before the movie her BF said he wanted to buy us popcorn, so I went with him. Right before we went back into the theater, we started making out! Right at that moment, my friend walked out the door and saw us. She was so mad and didn't speak to me EVER again. Perhaps we should've picked a more private place to make out!"
"My parents and sister were out of the house one night, so I invited over this boy I had a crush on to watch a movie. There happened to be a thunderstorm that night, so right in the middle of the movie the power went out. I got up to get a flashlight in my closet, and when I got back, I tripped over one of my (many) shoes and landed on the bed right next to him! So we start kissing, you know, just the innocent stuff, but it quickly got steamier! Before we knew it, we heard my sister's car in the driveway, so I had to put on my shirt and he had to get his shoes on and make it to the back door in lightning speed! It was so devious!"
"Once when my parents went away for the weekend, my older sister had to baby-sit. Well, in the middle of night I found her in the pool with her boyfriend making out. It was going pretty far when my parents walked through the door! They asked me where my sister was, and I pointed outside. My mom caught them in the pool, so they never let her baby-sit again!"
"One day I was at my friend's house riding on her sister's skateboard when I crashed into her sister's puzzle. We tried putting it back together but couldn't, so she decided to lie and tell her mom the cat did it. I was totally against it and wanted to tell the truth, but I knew it risked our friendship. So her mom and sister still think the darn cat did it!"
"One day at school my friends and I were playing around with a bottle of Victoria's Secret perfume spray during recess. A few of my friends had the bright idea that I go up and spray the perfume on my crush. Well, I did, but it went right into his eyes. Oh no!!! I could not believe it. He doesn't hate me, but he hasn't been paying much attention to me either — just in case I have another bottle of spray!"
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In October 1985, I attended a pop concert against my parents' wishes. By the end of the night I had been gang raped in circumstances similar to those alleged by the 17-year-old girl accusing several men, including Premiership footballers, of raping her at the Grosvenor House hotel. The men who raped me weren't celebrities and they weren't even rich. In reality they were nobodies. But to me, a 14-year-old girl, only 4ft 11in tall, with very limited experience of the world, they were glamour personified.
The men, who were about six years older than me, were in a pop band, playing village halls and occasional support slots to bigger bands. They talked about a world I knew nothing of, a glamorous world of recording studios and record contracts. Their faces pouted out of photo- graphs in the local paper. They were local celebrities. They were a gang with catchphrases I didn't understand, mostly referring to sex acts, and little hand signals that my best friend and I emulated and giggled over in the playground at lunchtime.
That night, I watched them on the stage high above me and when they smiled at me, pointed me out and waved, I felt grown-up and glamorous, and important. I had been seeing one of them, Liam, for three weeks and had met Phil and Simon once or twice. Liam asked me to arrange to stay out the night of the concert. He suggested I lie to my parents and say I was at a girlfriend's house, so we could "spend the whole night together". I would have done anything he asked because I had fallen in love with this man who spoke of grown-up things, who said, "I can't believe you're only 14, you look so much older" - though the photos I gaze at now tell me that I didn't. He also told me that he couldn't believe I was a virgin when I first met him. Couldn't believe his luck, more like.
So I arranged my alibi and went to the concert. I wasn't plied with champagne but with cheap vodka. I didn't drink much of it and certainly wasn't drunk. I was never a teenage drinker. After the concert, the men were on a high, enjoying the attention of their groupies. I waited while they circulated for half an hour and then they came over to me. Liam asked if I had made the arrangement to stay out. I said yes and he shuffled me out of the door quickly, followed by the others.
Liam asked if I would like to stay at Simon's house where we would "all be together" or go back to the fourth member of the band's bedsit. (He was also a model and actor and was having a party.) I didn't understand the hidden meaning. I thought he wanted us to spend the night alone together at Simon's, so this was what I chose. This is what, he later told me, he took as my consent. Asking me where I wanted to stay was taken as consent to group sex.
The year before, our county had been terrorised by a rapist known as the Fox. Malcolm Fairley broke into houses during the night and raped women at gunpoint in front of their husbands. My father, desperate to protect his family, would stay up all night after barricading the windows. He was determined no rapist would get near us.
I felt safe, with my father watching over me. That was what I thought rape was, a man climbing through your window in the night. I never thought it would happen at a local music festival, the first I had ever attended, after days of begging and pleading with my parents. I didn't think Liam would spend three weeks getting to know me, before passing me on to his friends.
I was taken to a small modern house. There was a black leather sofa, black ash veneer furniture and Athena pictures of semi-naked women. It was a 1980s bachelor pad, I suppose, though I had never been in one before. I still had a Pierrot duvet cover. The men said they were tired and that we should go to bed. I followed them up the stairs, led by Liam. When we reached the room I looked around, confused. I asked Liam where we would sleep. He said, "We'll all squeeze in together."
As the other men got into bed I asked Liam if we could sleep downstairs, but Phil was growing impatient and told us to hurry up because he wanted to slee
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