losing my virginity …(continuation from previous post)

checkpoint charlie
a cool thing about being involved in music is how it can quickly shrink any big city you might move to.
the business of music lays a wire net over these electric hubs, making it easier for you to become hooked up to other souls.
also,if you’re of a certain oeuvre,it doesn’t take long before natural selection begins to kick in….
like a dream, i became surrounded and loved by the most flamboyant of edinburgh youth…
fellow disc jockeys… trainee precision hairdressers…and other sweet young music lovers.

 

so there i am …working away as a disc jockey..not quite seventeen yet,and then one early afternoon, another fay young music minded clubber takes me to the outskirts of edinburgh to meet the svengali who manages the bay city rollers.
by now i’d heard he was a poof,and talk of this, through equal measures of fear and desire, would send the blood rushing to the cheeks of my teenage face.
he lived outside the city by the airport, at a place called gogarburn, near a mental hospital.
i was just thrilled to be going out there.

 

the first hit of this experience is when our black cab rolls up the end of a hidden country road, only to be confronted with a high reclusive wall and gate.
there’s one of those intercom affairs,from which a rather raw young voice hollers “whoooo is it? what do ye want?”
we get let in to the sound of aggressive guard dogs,then wait in a kitchen for the mainman to appear.
while waiting, i goggle wide eyed at the gold discs on the walls, and feel uneasy in the presence of other youth there…
real rough ones hanging around a range style oven scoffing fast food, talking in strong scottish brogue,but ignoring me.
the svengali eventually appears,and is very aloof..hardly registering my presence,though in hindsight he most certainly was.
he’s pretending to be engaged in more pressing matters,but it’s just part of his game.
i know this because over time i gradually learn how this man had young tight arse seared on the brain,
and mine was fresh as daisies, and super tight to boot.
i could only stay for so long,cause i had to get back into edinburgh in time to play records,and dear readers, i was never late to play the records,
but once i started making moves to call a cab to leave,he suddenly starts engaging with me,which thrills me no end.
i tell him how i was only yards away from him at that bay city rollers show back at the flamingo ballroom in ballymena,and how much i enjoyed the chaos of it all.
he liked that, and implored me to return soon….very soon…. very very soon…and i did….on my own…after work that night…when it was dark.

 

call me a born whore if you like,but i’m not afraid to tell you i was gagging for it.
i knew what i wanted,even though i’d never properly had it…
… in an actual bed…with a big strapping man…my own specific type…which is…
not pretty…not skinny…nice n old…
overweight,but not too overweight…
bald is good…[he was on the way].
a little bit durty even…like a coalman.
and this meathead, on the surface of things, fitted my requirements to perfection.

 

it took a few visits before he parked his bellend up my krunker,…
i guess he had plenty fish to fry…
but then it happened …
in his dimly lit 1970’s bedroom..complete with shagpile carpet…cork wall tiles…
the sound of his bang and olufsen hifi drifting in from the living room…
and then the bed….one of those stupid glugular waterbeds…
i’m lying there bollock naked when he tells me to hold my hand out,
where he retrieves this big family size carton of pineapple flavour vaseline intensive care hand cream lotion from his bedside cupboard, and then sqwidges it into my palm..
he says “rub that round yer arse, son”
which i wisely do…
he lurches over me with his big unfit gut,
then throwing my sturdy manboy legs up over his shoulders,and with no empathy or foreplay whatsoever,proceeds to jam his pork right up my tight little shitter….
well readers, the feeling was one of unspeakable discomfort,
like that thing if you’re in desperate need of a crap, but the situation means you have to wait…
it was confusing too,cause i sort of wanted it…or wanted something, but this just wasn’t it…
and now he’s banging away, which makes his fat face sweat…
his chosen position,from where i’m pinned, gives him more chins than a chinese phone book…
then in a raspy scottish brogue,which was probably the only sexy thing about this haul,he growls
“relax son”….“play wae yersel …play wae yersel”
so i’m whacking off there, which almost distracts from the discomfort ..but not for long,
cause i was young y’see..and at that age,i’d blow my load in a new york second just by touching myself…
which i did, but he’s still banging away at my roasted hole,and now i’m post coital, so to speak…
but he’s still squelching away,which felt like it was just going to go on and on forever….
eventually he reaches his unremarkable climax, which has all the passion of a postage stamp ,
ye gods readers,it was a great relief when he pulled out though…what a relief?!..
and that was that, sweethearts… yours truly, a virgin no more.

 

i hobbled off to the bathroom where i splashfarted out a stingy cocktail of compressed air…pineapple scented vaseline intensive care hand lotion, semen ,and blood,
which is a disarming memory in the spectre of the decades of aids that would follow…
whenever i visited that house,i always knew when some arse had undergone a rogering,cause i could smell
the vaseline pineapple scented intensive care hand lotion wafting around the kitchen.

 

y’know when i look back, i like that kid that i once was…and maybe it’s the very reason why i share this with you…
for he had real pluck…he was fluid and fun loving,and thankfully more than anything, he had, and still has a real sense of wonder for music….somewhere over the last years i’ve taken measures to re-connect with aspects of that kid,cause over time,he really did start to take himself far too seriously… an occupational hazard of working in music.

 

so there it was.. this disappointing mediocre sex…
singers sing so romantically about the first time,but for me it was just an arduous haul .
however…this didn’t stop me from wanting to come back for more,and even more stupid was i developed this huge unhealthy crush for the man.
i think it was a combination of desperately wanting some sort of older male affection in my life,and being completely impressed by all the gold discs on his walls…
i mean…i was so young,and time has proven that music would be my life…not just some phase…and he appeared on the surface of things, a proven music person…i projected my needs on to him.
he also looked like a coal man … he was just ticking all these boxes in me.
my dear wee arse hole sort of got used to the occasional shagging[sort of],but it was always leaving me feeling a bit lost and empty.
i’d try and wedge my way into a heterosexual mindset,with some gorgeous smart girls..but that wasn’t right either…
it would be over a decade, before i’d encounter a sincere decent man who i’d have a more connected fulfilling experience with,and i’m happy to tell you,i am still with him to this very day….and managers too…
the managers i had after this beast were far more substantial.

 

many of my friends back in the city gave me a hard time for going out to this pop svengalis house…
they could see he cast a strong spell on me,
these young hairdressers and clubby friends of mine were much more fun and healthier company too,
yet i’d too often forego evenings with these sweet creatures,in the name of my misdirected drive and curiosity.

 

it wasn’t long before i was going to turn eighteen,and late night conversations often came round to the idea of london.
some of my hairdresser pals would go down there for the big hair shows,and when they’d return they’d never shut up about the place…london this..london that,and i loved hearing about it.
also i wanted to deepen my game, and become a recording artist….
so i left edinburgh for the big smoke with a beautiful girl,only to return less than two years later to join one of the svengalis other pop groups, which was a great experience for a while…though now the relationship became plutonic.
i will tell you all about that in the next episode,and how we had to do an undercover moonlight to escape him before he eventually came to a sticky end in his own jacuzzi.

 

this is very much a rock and roll tale of the 1970’s …
and so i’ll leave you with a video of me acting out one of my songs as a rock and roll ghost, in a haunted old school 1970’s vinyl record shop .
it’s also a tribute to record store day, which i believe happens this forthcoming weekend.

 

always
mary of the wilderness.

 

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9 Responses to losing my virginity …(continuation from previous post)

  1. Julie Rex says:

    Funny what attracts us…it’s never the beautiful super model or the handsome actor types…even a crooked tooth can be attractive to the right eye…..your writing is so good I almost felt I was “spying” on you there mary lol xXx

    Like

  2. Julie Rex says:

    Not many people would have the courage to be so honest mary…and most of us have nothing much to tell….I think you are an amazing person…xXx

    Like

    • it’s an odd thing julie..at this stage in life i’ve somehow hit on this innate need to write it down…i used to take it all for granted,but now it all feels remarkable….everyone’s story is remarkable if you just re-run it in your head in slow motion,cause then you catch all these heart rendering and funny details.

      Like

      • Lorraine Day says:

        Got any fags Mary? : P
        Pardon the pun please! ^_^
        What a strange coincidence! I remember talking to you on Youtube! i Liked your music, we chatted and you said my comments reminded you of a John Waters clip ‘Mondo Trasho’ which you sent me!…its me weeeeoooow….im still on there now and then.

        Like you say ‘it all feels remarkable’ i find myself on the cusp of turning 49 and looking back with nostalgia at my life.
        I remembered my first ever gig at The Stardust club in Artane,when i was sweet 16, which in turn got me thinking about the tragic fire a few weeks later.
        That got me searching out ‘Stardust’ on google, which in turn lead me here to this magazine internet thingy ( forgive me, technology is not my forte but like you, music is my passion, my first love ) And when i read a review about the Stardust gig it jolted my memory wonderfully and brought me back to the most exciting gig i’d ever been to…my first! : )
        And that in turn lead me to your recognizable name in the posts, posted only a few days ago….isnt life strange and beautiful.
        You write as well as you make music, you’re funny, witty and entertaining and i love your unapologetic honesty about your experiences.
        Its funny how we get older and want to be truly known and fuck who doesnt like it eh?
        Look forward to reading the other posts.
        Your YT mate Lorraine AKA weeeeoooow x
        lol at his bellend up yer krunker….dirty boy! ^_^

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  3. Tim says:

    Read and enjoyed….Now, where d’ye want this 5 hundredweight of anthracite?

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  4. Lorraine Day says:

    Like the feckin eejit that i am, in left my comment up there somewhere * points up there at you under Julie Rex and me under you *
    Sounds like some kinky menage a troi!……ooh la la!

    Like

    • that’s a very sweet thing to write and say lorraine…i’m glad you enjoyed that…some folk are horrified by the gritty details,but to me it’s just the cut and thrust of all our lives..we all get a bit of dirt under our fingernails at some time…so i’m happy when people write and know that…thanks xxx

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