Cal's wisdom

Pop culture is responsible for teaching kids about love, sex, relationships and everything in between.  It is not (or maybe should not) be the only teacher, but it's everywhere.  Some people hate this and talk about how they yearn for a simpler time without all the advertisements and constant talk about TV.  Others even go as far as to shield their children from these things by only letting them watch educational or religious television.


In the opinion of this guy who admittedly doesn't have kids (that he's aware of) this seems stupid.  Pop culture and advertising and the media is only going to find more and more ways to work itself into our collective consciousness.  Denying this to your child or stunting their development seems counter-intuitive to preparing them for the world.


That being said, there is a lot of pop culture out there that is positive for kids.  Anything that causes somebody to think is generally a good thing.  And if it can help you realize something about your life or the way you handle a situation is wrong and needs improvement, even better.


Thus, I have no shame in saying that I believe strongly in one of the messages in the movie "The 40 Year Old Virgin".


Quick recap for those of you who haven't seen it, Steve Carell is a 40 year old virgin (very shocking given the title, I know) who works at a big box electronics retailer along the lines of Best Buy.  His friends find out that he's a virgin and make it their personal goal to get him laid.  Each friend goes about it differently, relaying wisdom and advice on the clueless Carell. But the piece of advice that stuck out, the one I believe in, is the one that Seth Rogen's character doles out.


"Listen, when I was growing pot, I realized that the more seeds I planted, the more pot I could ultimately smoke."


Now I'm not advocating anybody become a pot farmer, Rogen's character was using it as a metaphor for picking up women.  And I totally agree with this theory, which brings us to the story of Stef.


Like a lot of parents in America, mine got divorced and they moved away from each other.  I remained with my mother, but I visited my father from time to time.  And when you're in high school and you have to visit your single parent in a town you've never lived in from time to time, and you've never lived there, and don't know anybody there, and are much too young to get into a bar, you're forced to come up with things to do, or be forced to sit with said parent and watch a lot of movies.


Thus, I decided I should start internet friendships with girls in my dad's town in hopes of getting laid when I was there.


Enter Stef.  She was 5'10, had dyed black hair that she never bothered to comb much, and was probably around a size 14.  Big hips, ample breasts.  We shared a mutual taste for people watching/snarking at coffee shops, punk rock, and a general distaste for authority.


I was visiting my father over Labor Day weekend.  Get in Thursday night, leave Sunday morning.  Friday and Saturday day were set aside for hanging out with him.  Saturday night I was left to my own devices along with the keys to his SUV.  Stef knew this going in, and we had plans for Saturday night.  What plans I didn't know, but I'm sure I'd need a break.


After watching a late afternoon movie with my dad, I called Stef.  She gave me directions to her place, and I was off.  Navigating the streets of a town you're not familiar with often makes for slow travel, but I was excited to be driving my dad's SUV instead of my piece of shit car I had at the time.  I parked and checked out the large apartment building she was living in.


She buzzed me up and we met with a long hug.  Meeting somebody from the internet who you've talked to but never met is always an interesting experience.  On one hand you feel like you know the person, but on the other, seeing them in the flesh and touching them is always a little strange.  In my mind I always debate how friendly I should be, and am invariably uncomfortable to some degree.


Luckily, Stef was warm and happy to see me, which made things easy.  I didn't get the full story, but she was something of a runaway.  Her parents were also divorced, but she found neither of their living situations to be a good environment to live, and moved out when she was 17.  She found a gay couple who were sympathetic, and she stayed in their living room.


Made sense to me, and I admired her for getting out of a crappy situation and doing her best, but didn't say anything about it.  Instead I asked what we were doing tonight.


"Come on, I'll show you."


We exit her building, and walk down the street a few blocks to a supermarket.  She seems to know one of the people working one of the registers, who doesn't even give a second glance when ringing up a bottle of whiskey as her only purchase.  Stef put it in a plastic bag, and then into her purse without missing a beat.  I thought this was the coolest thing I had ever seen, but again, said nothing about it.


We get back to my dad's SUV and get in.  She directs me a couple miles to the local alternative book store/coffee shop.  It's the kind of place with a lot of dirty couches, baristas with multiple nose piercings, an old Sony ghetto blaster blaring the latest local noise rock, a small stage for readings & live music, huge mugs of coffee, and infinite possibilities.


The girl slinging the coffee also knew Stef, and she quickly introduced me.  My brain quickly had visions of a torrid threesome, but I knew not to expect much.  Besides, I was growing fonder and fonder of Stef.  She knew people that mattered.  She was doing her own thing.  She was cool.  And I wanted her because of it.


We took the coffee back to a brown and green patterned couch that looked like it was from the mid 70s, and probably hadn't been cleaned since then either.  Stef takes a drink of coffee, and holds it in her hand with her purse next to her.  I do the same and try to look as comfortable as possible.  We begin to chat again, and she instructs me to take another drink out of my "World's Greatest Teacher" mug that I was given and then hold it down next to her purse.  I do, and with her left hand, Stef manages to unscrew the top of the bottle of whiskey and pour a healthy amount into my cup, and puts the top back on the bottle.  I swirl the coffee around a bit, and take a drink.


Wow.  Strong.  It was my first time ever having anything in my coffee other than sugar and and cream, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.


"Good right?"


"Yeah."  I cough a few times.


"Try to be less obvious."


Instantly my heart sinks for a second, but I manage to rebound.


"What about you?"


"Trade mugs with me."


I do, and she repeats the process, putting what seemed like twice the amount of whiskey in her mug.  She puts the bottle away, and we trade mugs again.  She grabs her mug with both hands, takes a long drink, and lets out a satisfying "Ahhhh."


Again, I am constantly impressed with how cool she is.  I was not used to girls being into hard liquor, nor sneaking it into coffee shops, or anything like this.  It felt exciting to be in her presence.  She was a rebel.  Or as much as a counter-culture Siouxsie Sioux looking girl could be.  Either way I knew I wanted her.


The evening progressed along these lines.  We'd talk for a little while, and somebody would come up to her that she knew.  They'd talk for a minute, then walk away, and we would continue our conversation.  To my credit, I kept up with the conversation, despite my increasing level of inebriation.  I was clearly not ready for the booze on an empty stomach, and it made my conviction in discussing the qualities of the band that I just made up even stronger.


A song would come on, and if I'd ever heard it on the radio, I'd roll my eyes.  If not, I'd debate its relative merits, explain who I thought the band was ripping off, and dismiss it.  Stef seemed to be interested in these things I was saying, especially when I started to connect songs to other people in the shop, while attempting not to talk about people who I had met a little while earlier.


Some awful song with no discernible melody would come on, and I'd mention how the guy with the green mohawk probably jerked off to this while writing his latest ode to an anarchistic society.  Stef would laugh and look into my eyes as I'd ramble and swing my mostly empty mug.  I was drunk, but not drunk enough to be oblivious to this.  I put my mug down and she turns to me.


"You wanna get out of here?"


"Yeah, what the fuck."


We get up and she says some good byes.  I attempt to maintain balance as I walk over to take the mugs back to the counter.  She rejoins me near the door as we exit.  The few functioning brain cells that weren't either drunk or insanely horny remind me that this is probably not the best time for me to be driving.  Stef appeared to be more sober, and despite this being my dad's SUV, he'd probably prefer it not crashed into a tree.  I take the keys out and give them to her.


"Take me somewhere good."


To this day, I have no idea where we went.  The ride had several twists and turns.  In the night, in a strange town, it's difficult enough to figure out where you are.  Add my drunkenness and the fact that the rest of me was thinking about how to get into her pants, location wasn't really on my mind.


Eventually, she pulls the car over and parks in what looks to be a fairly affluent part of town judging by the nice cars, neat landscaping and good sized houses.


"Where the fuck are we?" I slur.


"Somewhere that nobody will bother us," she replies.  Then leans over and kisses me.


Fireworks.  Explosions.  Symphony orchestras hitting a high note.  Everything inside me fixates on this kiss, and it completely blows my mind.  Not that I hadn't been looking forward to it, and wanting it.  But when the situation presents itself in what feels like a sudden manner, it's mind-altering.


I kiss her back.  Roughly, sloppily, hungrily.  She reaches over to the lever on the side of my seat and puts the seat back horizontal to the ground and gets on top of me.  We continue to make out in the most teenage way.  I put my arms around her, and she runs her fingers through my hair.  She starts breathing heavily, and I kiss her ear and bite her neck.


The windows quickly steam up.  We're both literally in heat.  I can feel the warmth of her pussy against my cock.  It strains against the fabric of my briefs, and wants her as much as I do.  My hands make their way under her shirt, and pushes her bra up as I roughly tweak her nipples.  I fumble with her bra clasp, but not as badly as I could have, as her breasts come spilling out.


Despite the only lighting coming from a few nearby street lamps, I can still see how pale breasts are, and how pink her nipples are.  It became clear to me through the course of making out that she likes things a bit rough, so after some initial sucking, I bite her nipples. She loves it and moans to express this.  I alternate between sucking and biting, while palming the other.


I adore the way her breasts felt in my hand.  Heavy.  Full.  Supple.  Had I not been dying to fuck her, I could have played with her breasts all night.  But there were more pressing matters at hand.  I needed to taste her.


Stef crawls over me to the back seat, and we lay the back seats down.  This is where things get tricky.  I'm tall.  She's tall.  Despite the SUV being large, we were going to have to figure something out.  She tries laying down across the back seats, but there's no room for me.  She lays the other way with her head by the lift gate, and there's more room, but still not enough.  She then moves so she's diagonally across the back, and half sitting/half laying against the wall.  There ends up being just enough room for me to lay down between her legs, and I quickly do.


She lifts her ass off the seat and takes her black jeans and red lacy panties off with my help. Her pussy was unshaven, and also deliciously wet.  I dove right in.  My technique was lacking, but I was awfully enthusiastic, which was about par for the course.  I licked.  I sucked.  And I finger banged her as best I could, given the circumstances.  Stef seemed to be enjoying herself, or at least doing a good job at faking, but not as fast as I was getting uncomfortable.  Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult.  The already steamy air inside the SUV was smelling more and more like sex, to the point of saturation.  I couldn't take it any more, and brought my head up from between her legs.


"How was that?" I ask, already knowing the answer, but needing a quick break.


"Great, but could you keep going?"


"Yeah."


I continue where I left off, but decide to give more preference to my fingers.  Instead of two, I use three inside of her, and I alternate the rhythm with my licking of her clit.  This seemed to work, as Stef immediately started to get louder as I did it.  I wanted to get her off, and I found a way that seemed to be working.  It made me happy, as I continued.  Her hips started bucking up and down.  I attempted to keep contact with my tongue on her clit while fingering her despite the added level of difficulty.


My mind became focused.  This was the way to get her off.  My fingers and tongue had a strategy and I didn't care how difficult it was damn it, she was going to cum for me.  I wanted to prove to her that I was worthy.  The hand that wasn't inside her grabbed her hand.  She grasped it tightly.  Still I licked.  Still my fingers fucked.


Her breathing shortened.  Then stopped completely.  Then a loud grunt as her cunt muscles contracted around my fingers.  She let go of my hand, and pushed my head away.  I was more than happy to comply, as I let her orgasm subside.  Stef regained a bit of composure and hugged me, as I made my way up to her.


"Mmmm."


"Glad I could help."


I let her catch her breath a bit, and we soon after fucked, but it was lackluster.  Most of our energy had been spent already.  And despite the fact that I came, and she came twice more, it almost seemed like an afterthought.


Stef showed me an incredible night.  I was in what felt like a constant state of awe around her.  She made me glad to be alive and gave me hope for the future.  And I gave her orgasms.  Other things too obviously, but I was mainly proud of the orgasms.