** has been asking me to tell stories about my past and thinking about THE FIRST TIME puts me in a confessional mood. THE FIRST TIME brings sex to mind, of course, but I've already told that story including illustrations of the tent and the blood and the funny way I walked afterwards. So I'll try to think of other first times. How boring it is to think about the first time I did something that I've done over and over a million times since, like the first time I ate M&Ms or the first time I masturbated. I'd rather think about things I did only once like:

That time I was fourteen and my best friend's mother took us to a Therapeutic Nudist Camp that let girls under 18 in for free and I saw my first erect penis when we played volleyball with this guy wearing nothing but sunglasses and I had a guaranteed orgasm offered to me by an Australian man with a wrinkly tanned hide and I didn't know what an orgasm was.
or
That time when I was seventeen and drank too many Cuba Libres at the Mardi Gras and ended up dancing on the table and making out with five different strangers in a row and the next morning thinking about (you guessed it) becoming a nun.
or
That time I left the band because I was in love and drove across country with my new boyfriend in one of those Drivaway cars and got married in Las Vegas at the Chapel of Love, and got naked at a truck stop, and peeled out of gas stations without paying while the nozzle was still in the tank, and was left at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere after a fight, and developed a lifelong phobia about big trucks because we drove on I-80 through Chicago at 2 am in a rainstorm.
or
That time I was living with my boyfriend in New Mexico, in a house without heat or hot water that we rented for $200 a month and I jerked off his two little brothers in the bathroom, then gave them a graphic demonstration of how a diaphragm works.
and that's all the characters I got.
As Jerri Blank would say, "Good time, good times."