I will refer to all real people in this story by their initials. I think that's safe, since you don't know who I am. It just helps me keep track of things. And I also think it's kind of amusing to use the intials motif, like all the psychology literature uses. Because this is psychology literature, of sorts.
My first "girlfriend" was SK. I met her at summer camp. I was 12 and she was 11. And we fooled around more than I can, in hindsight, believe. We didn't have sex. But there was most definitely a significant amount of activity that would not be construed as "age-appropriate". Oddly, I didn't actually have sex for another 5 1/2 years after that. So, I was fast out of the starting gates, but then sputtered out for quite some time. Sigh.
Anyway, at some point in time, it came to discussion that SK had experimented with smoking. She was only 11. But I guess her mother smoked, and had even told her that if she ever wanted to try it, she should ask, rather than do it behind her back.
And I remember having a telephone conversation where SK was at home, alone, and she was talking about doing it. And then she actually smoked in her house, while she was on the phone with me. And I most definitely remember masturbating while talking to her. I never told her that I had the fetish, because I was obviously in no way able to verbalize these feelings. But that was my first real-life "encounter" with the fetish. Arguably, it was also my first real-life encounter with phone sex as well! But that's a different topic entirely, isn't it?
SK and I dated only a little while, and I never actually saw her smoke. And I am not even sure if we discussed the topic again. But she was my first girlfriend. Oddly, I was put in contact with her on Facebook recently via a common friend. 28 years later. She looks different than she did when she was 11.
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