I'm not proud of what happened in high school, but now that I found out that my daughter has been screwing her boyfriend, it got me remembering what it's like to be a girl in high school. One thing is for certain, I can't be too judgmental regarding my daughter's behavior considering my own.

Looking back on my teen years, it's a little bit embarrassing. There are some things that happened that seem illogical, but are natural in the way of growing up. It is a matter of finding your way in life. Oh yes, then there is the hormone issue. Mine seemed out of control very early. Even now they're a bit naughty.

A convergence of events led me to an early active sex life. As far back as my freshman year, a neighbor whose office was close by the school, drove me to high school. Sometimes I took the bus home and sometimes Mr. Samson drove me home; it depended on his schedule. I was a fresh faced naive kid and shy, so I just listened to him talk about stuff I didn't really understand or care about like sports, the stock market, politics, etc.

By the time I was a junior, I found that I actually had ideas and opinions of my own. So we began to have short discussions in the car on the way home. It was also the year that sex education was part of the school curriculum.

Most of us girls knew the basics from what we heard from each other, It wasn't real accurate. On the other hand, the sex ed class didn't address some of the issues we were most interested in, like does it hurt or what makes a boy ejaculate or how to get an orgasm.

However, that started to change the day our teacher taught us about the male anatomy and how to use a condom. She brought in long ripe banana to illustrate the proper technique of putting on a condom. She felt it was important to emphasize the importance of safe sex. Of course, this was before birth control pills, so condoms were the most available method to avoid unplanned pregnancies. Things are much different now. My daughter is on the pill, so she has a level of safety that my girlfriends and I didn't have.

The condom the teacher stretched onto the fruit was like the skin on a rattle snake, and it transported me into an erotic world, a world of sexual fantasy. I felt myself getting wet just watching the teacher roll the latex sleeve onto that stiff imitation cock. It was like a girl's version of a wet dream.

When I got home, that was all I could think about. My first mission was to look in the kitchen for a banana. There were none. After school the next day, I stopped at the grocery store to visit the produce department, then the drug store for a package of Trojans.

When I got home, Mom was still at work. It was the perfect opportunity to experiment. The condom rolled on my banana just like the teacher showed us. The teacher didn't show us what came next, but I knew what to do. I was a little scared to put it inside me. I slipped my hand under my skirt and touched my pussy. For just a second, I pressed one finger in. I was surprised how wet and slippery it was inside. My face turned scarlet red just thinking that Mom might catch me, but my vagina was begging for my fruity dildo.

The tip of the banana went past my pussy lips easily. I wasn't sure how much further I should go. There was a certain urgency that told me to push it in further. It wasn't long before I felt a slight pain. I quickly pulled it out seeing a small amount of blood. Oh my god, This is terrible. I shouldn't have done it. I've hurt myself, I thought.

The next week at school, we learned more about a woman's genitals. I was relieved to learn about a girl's hymen, and it explained why I had bled. What I had done was perfectly normal.

At home, I did more experimenting. Fortunately, I had bought more than one banana. By the end of the week, I got up the nerve to get the whole thing inside me. It amazed me that the whole thing fit. Once I took a green almost ripe banana and peeled it. It was an experiment to find out what it felt like. Well, it was a little rubbery, softer, and spongy. I liked the hard unpeeled banana best.

Getting back to Mr. Samson, by my junior year he began to notice that I no longer was a little girl. Men notice things like that especially when a girl's chest looks like two melons were stuffed inside her blouse. Every so often he would sneak a peak at my tits, especially when I wore a loose fitting blouse. It was pretty obvious what he was thinking. So, I began wearing very short skirts to school on the days he was driving me home. I made sure they were hiked well above my knees showing most of my thighs. Mr. Samson definitely noticed.

We continued to talk about school. I told him about the sex-ed class. He asked if the teacher talked about oral sex and positions. I said, "Of course not."

"Then, he said, "I think they've left out a big part of having sex." I couldn't have agreed more.

At the end of the school year, I celebrated my seventeenth birthday. "How old are you now?" Mr. Samson asked.

"I'll be seventeen next week."

Mr. Samson said we should get an ice cream cone to celebrate. We took a detour and headed to the ice cream parlor in town. "Look," Mr. Samson was saying, "Why don't you stop by my house. I want to give you something special for your birthday."

He lived walking distance from my house, so I told him I'd drop by Saturday afternoon.

I wore a loose fitting halter top with spaghetti straps and seriously cutoff pair of jeans. I figured he had more in mind than a present wrapped with a bow, and I was game for anything he had in mind. I rang his doorbell at two-thirty.

Mr. Samson wasn't wearing the suit he usually wore to work. He wore shorts, a t-shirt and sandals. He looked really sexy.

"Come on in! Can I get you a Coke?" he offered.

"Sure."

With the Coke, he gave me a small box wrapped like only a man can wrap a present. A five year old could have done better. "Happy birthday, Tracy," and he gave me a peck on the cheek like a parent gives an infant.

"Go ahead and open it," he said. Inside was a simple sterling silver chain bracelet. I let out a holler of childish joy, " It's beautiful!"  I hugged him, thanking him over and over.

While I sipped my Coke, I asked him about the guitar propped up against the living room wall. He said he played a little. I asked him to play something. He played Happy Birthday, singing as well. He was good, very good. That's when I began thinking that Mr. Samson was a pretty cool guy, cool as a middle age man can be.

"Hey, I have guitar, but I'm not very good. I want to get better though."

"Well, Tracy, if you want, I'll teach you."

So when the summer vacation began, I took lessons from Mr. Samson, but they weren't always guitar lessons.

Maybe it was the third week into the summer when he asked me if I had a boyfriend. I told him, "No. I just date a few guys."

"Do they get pretty physical? I mean petting and like that."

"I don't know what you mean by petting."

"Oh sorry. That's what we called it when I was young. You know, kissing and touching."

"Well yes, I like kissing and I don't mind if a guy puts his hands on me. It feels good."

"Do the girls, you know, put out?"

"Put out, Mr. Samson?"

"You know, have sex?"

"Some do."

"How about you? Do you have sex with your dates?"

"No, Mr. Samson. Why are you asking me these things?"

"Don't get upset, Tracy. I'm just curious about what's happening with kids your age. I have a good friend at work who mentioned that kids your age are more sexually active than we were. She caught her sixteen year old daughter in bed with some guy. The daughter didn't apologize, and said all the girls do it. Maybe you're curious about sex too, I mean beyond sex ed class."

My face was flush with embarrassment, so I didn't answer at first, then I nodded Yes.

"You are a very attractive girl, Tracy. You've become a gorgeous woman."

"Thank you, Mr. Samson. You're pretty hot too. Oops, sorry. I shouldn't have said that." But I wasn't sorry I said it. I wanted him to know I wanted him.

The next time we met, he opened the door wearing a robe and slippers. I thought he was naked under the robe but when it opened far enough for me to get a glimpse, he was naked from the waist up, wearing only briefs.

"Sorry for the informal attire. I just got out of the shower. I hope I'm not embarrassing you."

"No, my dad looks like that after a shower. I'm used to it, only he usually isn't wearing shorts."

Mr. Samson laughed. I usually don't either but when the doorbell rang, I quickly slipped something on. So you are used to seeing a man's equipment."

"Equipment? Oh, you mean his penis. No, well yes. I've seen it at the museum. Some of the boys want me to touch them there, but I've never done anything like that on a date. I think it's gross."

"If you trust me, Tracy, maybe I can help you from thinking it's gross. Come over here and take off my shorts, then you can touch me. Let's see how it goes from there."

Oh my god, I was thinking. this is so wrong. What would Mom say if she found out? But I wanted to do it so bad. The teenage mind is like that, knowing right from wrong, then doing the wrong. But at that moment, it wasn't wrong.

My heart was racing when I asked, "How am I supposed to touch you, Mr. Samson?"

"Call me Paul. Come over here and I'll show you."

So that was my introduction to being seduced, something for which I had hoped but only imagined.

What struck me was how a soft short penis could get so long and stiff, even hard. And Mr. Samson was so much bigger than a banana. The tip of his erection was larger than the rest of his penis and fat. I couldn't imagine it fitting into my vagina.

"Look, Tracy, I need you to stroke this with your hand." He took my hand and wrapped my fingers around his shaft showing me how to move it up and down. "Use your other hand to gently grip my balls." Paul showed me how to be gentle with his balls and that was also surprising. Although his cock was as hard as a rock, his balls were soft and supple. It just seemed to be a huge contrast between the body parts.

When you do something for the first time, everything is new. When I saw clear stuff oozing from the tip of his penis, I thought that he was ejaculating. Later I learned it was precum, something to help lubricate a woman when he is inside her. I didn't remember that from sex-ed class.

I soon found that ejaculations were very different. The whole thing was so arousing while I massaged his dick. All of a sudden, milky fluids squirted out of him plastering my face. I was so surprised, I jumped back. "Shit," he screamed. "Never stop when a guy is cumming! Never stop!" and he took his own hand to finish the job.

I burst into tears. "I didn't know. I didn't know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Paul said gruffly. "Next time you'll know. And next time, show me your tits. We'll make it a proper lesson next time," sounding like a teacher.

I knew what would come next, and I was hopelessly excited.

We didn't get together again for two weeks when he was out of town for a business meeting. The thing was, two weeks felt like two months. I wanted him. I wanted him so bad. I wanted to know how it felt to have that hard shaft filling my virgin pussy instead of a banana. Yet, for those two weeks, the banana had to do.

Perhaps he could see that I was overly eager the next time we were together. We played guitar for the first hour, then took a time out. He had a beer. I drank Coke. For awhile, he showed me how to improve my fingering on the fret board until he put his arms around me and whispered, "Maybe we've had enough guitar lessons for one day. Let's have some lessons upstairs." Paul took my hand and led me to his bedroom.

"I want to see your body, Tracy. Take off your clothes so I can admire your beauty."

Of course I was nervous, but I did as he said. It was the first time I was nude in front of anyone but my mom and our doctor. It made me shiver with fright or was it desire? I had shaved in all the right places in anticipation. He liked what he saw.

"Just as I thought," he said. "You've blossomed like a beautiful summer rose. You have become a sexy woman, a desirable delicious woman." As he said that, he pulled off his shirt and dropped his pants. "Look what you do to a poor middle aged man like me." It was obvious what he meant when I looked down at his hard-on. "Come over here and wrap your fingers around it like I showed you before."

We laid on the bed together, both nude, with my hand on his cock, his hand fingering me. My heart raced faster than a hummingbird's.

"I want you to give me a blowjob. Then I'll do something you will like in return."

"A blowjob, Mr. Samson. You want me to suck your penis?"

"That's right, Tracy. That's what a woman does for her man."

"I don't know how."

"It's something that comes naturally to a girl. You'll catch on." and he was right.

It was awkward at first, and I only got a little more than half of him in my mouth. He said I would eventually be able to get it down my throat with practice.

This time when he came, Mr. Samson didn't ejaculate on my face, and I didn't stop like he had told me. I just sucked until he came and came and came. It all flooded out of my mouth onto my chin. The taste was salty and not as good as the ice cream cone he bought me on my birthday, but like the ice cream, I swallowed most of his cum.

I thought he would make me a woman in the next few minutes. That wasn't the plan, at least at first. Paul took his time catching his breath before he nibbled on my nipples, giving me an extraordinary feeling south of my bellybutton. Then he went down on me kissing my tummy and thighs before exploring my pussy and clit with his lips and tongue. God what a feeling. He made me feel things, new things, things that I never wanted to end. It must have been the first time I had an orgasm. I might have had something close before, but this was the real thing.

I went home, sexually satisfied but still technically a virgin.

It was time to move forward, so I showed up the next time without my guitar, no bra, no panties and no bush. I had shaved the night before. I wore the minimum. Mr. Samson got the message.

In his bedroom he said, "Turn around and bend over Tracy. Let me see you." I turned around bending just far enough so he noticed I wore no panties. "No, I mean take off your clothes, then let me see you."

I did a short striptease, very short since there wasn't much to take off. I was naked except for my pink Nike running shoes. Moments later, Mr. Samson joined me in bed wearing only a long hard erection that I knew was soon destined to be in a happy warm place. I gave him his blowjob, but he didn't cum. He gave me a condom and told me to roll it on. That wasn't a problem since I had lots of practice at home.

His hot mouth on my pussy got me so delirious with desire that I came on his lips. It was an easy penetration when his fingers pushed in. It gave me time to adjust to the idea of having him inside me. As he climbed on top and settled between my legs, I spread them wide as an open invitation. I could feel his hard cock riding up and down my pussy lips being lubricated by my slimy fluids.

He was gentle at first. As he pushed in slowly, I immediately felt it was different from playing with a banana. The feeling of being filled with his hard cock was noticeably better. To begin with, a man's penis has a nice fat bulb at the tip that a banana doesn't have. That extra knob hit my g-spot right away, and I gasped for a breath.

He said, "My god, you're tight. I'm not hurting you, am I?" He didn't wait for an answer. "It's beautiful being inside you, Tracy." The feeling was mutual.

He tried to be careful with slow deliberate strokes but once mother nature took over, both of us screwed like it would be our last. He banged into me with all of his strength, deeper and faster than I had done with the banana. I realized I liked it hard, not so gentle. I thought he would cum quickly, but somehow he had the self-control to keep fucking me until he heard me scream with my second orgasm. When I climaxed, I felt another new sensation. His cock began pulsing again and again, so I knew his sperm was pouring into me. I didn't know how much cum to expect. After he pulled out and slipped the condom off his cock as it began to soften. He had filled the condom with much much more than I expected. I wanted to feel it inside me.

Our time together that day didn't end there. He went to the kitchen for a beer and a Coke while we relaxed. I didn't want to relax. I was anxious to do it again. I was ready and willing to start right away. He said he needed some time to recover. I didn't know a man wasn't ready to fuck again right after cumming. They also left that part in class.

He kissed me and fondled my tits for awhile, then sucked my nipples hard. His hand was busy at my pussy while my hand worked his cock into a stiff hard pole. It took an hour before Mr. Samson reached for another condom.

"No, Mr. Samson. I don't want it with a condom. I want to feel how it is naturally, you know, instead of that plastic feeling."

"I'll pull out just before I cum, okay?"

"Oh no, oh no! I want to know what it feels like when your sperm goes inside me."

He turned me over and had me on my hands and knees when he pushed in for a second time. I didn't know a man could get inside a woman from the back. It felt so good like that. Was it was supposed to feel that good? They didn't talk about how it felt at school or how it feels when a man cums, his pulsing and squirting. I liked it so much that I completely forgot that I had no protection from getting pregnant. He lasted longer this time giving me a new level of orgasms, and filled my cunt with a gusher of his seed.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. You got me pregnant, Paul. I know I'm going to be pregnant."

"It's a little late to worry about that, Tracy. You wanted it this way, remember? Anyway, it takes more than one good fucking to get a girl pregnant. You'll be fine." He was right this time. I dodged a bullet and the next, but it was like playing Russian Roulette.

That whole summer, I was Mr. Samson's personal slut, fucking him mostly bareback. I used the rhythm method of birth control, marking the days of ovulation like the teacher had shown us.. On several occasions I stayed the night with Paul, telling my parents I was going to a sleepover. They assumed it was with a girlfriend.

The overnights gave Paul a chance to demonstrate the things sex education at school left out, like positions, oral sex, and even anal. After awhile, I got really good at deep throat and although it took lots of persuasion, I finally let him do me anal. I don't think I'll ever get used to it but when I'm with a man I really like, I'll let him do it with me.

From then on I left the bananas in the kitchen. The guitar lessons had ended, so did the sleep-overs when Paul found another girl for guitar lessons. What I didn't expect is what losing my virginity did to my self-esteem. I became more confident, more assertive and more receptive to the boys. None of the boys at school were as good as Paul Samson, but they were equally eager to get into my pussy. I was just as eager.

I got pregnant my senior year on a blind date just before my eighteenth birthday. I never even learned the guy's name. It was just one of those moonlight nights when both of us were so horny, neither could resist screwing each other in the backyard patio.

I have a daughter to prove it. She has graduated from high school, and is very open about her sex life. Like best friends telling each other secrets, she shares everything. Some of what she tells me is kind of shocking, but as I've said, who am I to be judgmental.