The other day, watching some adolescents flirting and teasing, I remembered with nostalgia my own first sexual experience. As unsophisticated and fumbling as it was. it played a very special part in my growing up It did not involve intercourse, but it was the first time I ever felt an erect male penis.

I was a nubile eighteen year-old, as unaware of my charms as only a eighteen year-old in the late 1950's could be. A classmate, Mark, who lived a few blocks away from me, was a casual friend. I thought him attractive, but I was shy and we had never gone out. One summer afternoon, as I was walking past Mark's house, he called out from the door of his garage. “What are you doing?” he asked as I strolled over. I thought how nice he looked in his tight chinos and blue shirt. I was wearing shorts and a sleeveless blouse, and I was very aware of his eyes roving over my body.

“I'm just about to print some pictures,'' he said. “Want to come in and watch?”

“Sure, I've never done that before,” I answered. “Everything's all set up.” he told me, ushering me into the garage.

The radio was on, playing rock and roll, and Mark rolled the garage door closed. It was dark and breathlessly hot He turned on a fan and led me into a curtained area where a little red safe-light glowed. As he reached for some photographic paper, he brushed against me. Then he put the paper down and put his arms around me. Believe it or not, I was surprised.

“What are you doing?” I asked, squirming away. That just made him bolder, and he leaned over and kissed me on the lips. I was surprised to find myself responding. I reached up and put my arms around his neck. I felt my breath coming faster and my knees getting a little weak. “Oh,” was all I could say.

He led me out of the curtained area into the garage and threw a towel down on the floor, sat down on it, and patted the place next to him. As aroused as I was, I suddenly got scared.

“Oh, no,'' I said. “I've never gone all the way, and I'm too young to start”

“That's okay,” Mark said. “I won't make you do anything you don't want to do. Come on, just sit down next to me and touch me. That's all.” In the dim light I could see that he was unzipping his fly. I kneeled down next to him and stared at his penis. I had never seen an erect penis before, and I was amazed at its size. I reached out to touch it and was surprised that it felt so nice and smooth.

“Harder,” he moaned squirming under my touch. He lay back and I lay down next to him. We kissed again and again, and he rubbed his hands over my body, pushing up my blouse and reaching under my bra to stroke my budding breasts.

“Oh, they're so soft,” he breathed against my lips. We rubbed our tongues and our bodies together hotly, and he moved his hand down between my legs. He put his finger into my wetness a little bit and rubbed it, as inexperienced with me as I was with him.

“Can't I put my penis in there?” he asked, bringing his shaft to the mouth of my vagina.

“Oh, Mark, you promised you wouldn't!” I cried, backing away in fright.

“I said I wouldn't do anything you didn't want me to do,” he said, continuing to stroke my body “Don't you want to?” Virginity was a valued commodity in those days, and the thought of losing it to Mark, whom I didn't even love (very important to female adolescents in those days, too) was too outrageous to even consider.

“Let's just do this,” I said.

I squeezed his penis and he put his hand over my hand, rubbing it up and down on his penis. hard and rhythmically. At the same time, I guided his other hand to my clitoris and showed him how I liked it stroked. As the music on the radio got wilder and faster, I rubbed his penis harder and faster and he stroked my sopping wet vagina faster and faster.

Just as the music climaxed, I felt my body shake with incredible waves of pleasure and I felt his penis begin to throb in my hand. I knew what was happening to me -- I had been masturbating for years -- but I didn't know what was happening to Mark, and I was surprised when he stopped my hand and leaned back.

“That was perfect,” he said, in a totally satisfied voice. Just as I was congratulating myself for having done so well, Mark added, “I came as the music finished.” So that's what it's like when a guy comes. I thought. We wrestled around a couple of more times that summer, but in the fall my contact with Mark was reduced to hello’s in the hallway at school. We ran into each other on the street a year or so ago, and as we talked that scene in the garage popped into my head. I didn't say anything about it, but I wondered if he was remembering it, too.