I first picked up SGGTSWC because I was so outraged by the title— how dare this het-heathen get her jollies making fun of dykes!
But I was so captivated by Miss Thing, I invited her to appear on my radio show last fall, which I'm rerunning this week.
In Bed with Susie Bright, Encore Edition 223: Straight Girls' Guide with Jen Sincero
Here's the first chapter, which you can read in full at the jump:
I think my first sexual encounter with a member of the same sex happened when I was seven.
My friend Wendy and I would spend hours playing with these little plastic Fisher-Price people who came with cars and houses and villages and stuff.
We'd make up stories about them, have them go to work and cook dinner, and when they were bad we'd send them off to "The Big Ween."
"Uh-oh, Sally didn't do her homework again," Wendy would say, kicking off her panties and lying on the floor.
She'd hold terrified little plastic Sally up in the air and announce to the entire Fisher-Price community that "Sally was bad and must go to The Big Ween," then slowly lower the toy between her legs.
I'd watch mesmerized as Wendy rubbed Sally around and around, stopping only when Wendy's My First Pussy had gotten its fill.
Inevitably, moments later, my own Mr. Smith would wind up telling a lie or robbing the Fisher-Price bank and my panties would go flying across the room. "Uhhhh-ohhhhhh!"
I'm not sure if this counts as sex, since there were actually two The Big Weens, Wendy overseeing operations at hers and me at mine, but I do know that for me it wasn't all innocent play. I was a really sexual kid who started masturbating at around five years old, and who was constantly getting sent to my room for greeting company with my hand down my pants.
So I find it kind of surprising, since I was such an early enthusiast and a curious person in general, that it took me until my thirties to really get down and dirty with another woman.
I'd done my fair share of dabbling, made out with a few drunk friends, and groped the occasional boob here and there, but nothing all that intimate ever happened. It was usually the result of being wasted and figuring that if there were no cute guys around I might as well pin Sharon to the couch. And it never went beyond that until my thirties.
Maybe I was too uptight or too immature, or maybe all my friends were just uglier back then -- whatever the reason, it took me a couple decades before I found myself face to face with The Big Ween again. And much to my surprise, just like little plastic Sally, I got sucked in by it...
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