My Fear Of Intimacy.

[HandRobbery]

As long as I can remember I have had a deep fear of intimacy. Below you will find individual stories of my relationships with the opposite sex. (However, because this post has exceeded the character limit, I will continue what I have written in a follow up post.) I have posted this for advice and constructive criticism. If you take the time to read my situation it will be greatly appreciated.


I’ve lived on this planet for a long twenty-one years. Unfortunately, it took me fourteen of those years to secure my first girlfriend. The relationship began when eighth grade was coming to an end, and it lasted until summer was over. The girl was cute but she wasn’t going to win any beauty pageants. I forget exactly how we became a couple. However, I do know that she was definitely hung up on me. I spent a good amount of time talking to her on the internet and phone. I was usually incredibly charming and I’m sure that’s how she became infatuated with me. Three days a week my parents would drive me to her house and we would hang out. We would usually watch movies in her living room. Sometimes she would invite her other friends over when she invited me. I spent a lot of hours with her that summer. However, I was always too cowardly to ever make any sexual advances. The only sensuous moments we shared were a few innocent kisses. These were kisses that she always initiated. It wasn’t that I didn’t find her attractive. I would have gladly taken her to her room and done things I saw on pornographic films if I had the courage. I was incredibly horny at this age too. In fact, many times when we were watching movies on her couch my penis would helplessly erupt. I was always terribly afraid of making sexual advances because I thought I was undeserving. Many girls thought I was good looking, but I remained unconvinced. I knew I was an athletic kid with nice facial structure. However, I still had a grotesque problem. Ever since I hit puberty in the sixth grade I’ve had excessive hair cover my entire butt. The hair is rough, coarse, and inordinately thick. I also have an outrageous amount of hair on my upper legs. I’ve always felt terribly insecure about this peculiar development. I figured if I ever got intimate with a girl and my pants came off she would run away repulsed. My feelings on this issue were no different back in eighth grade. I eventually broke up with my first girl friend without ever getting any play from her.

When I entered ninth grade my ex girl friend was still obsessed with me. I didn’t understand her obsession since I was sexually inadequate. I was an excellent conversationalist with her, and if I were to guess, that’s what held her interest.

Ninth grade was another pathetic yet life changing year for me. It was the year I devoted all my attention to another girl. She was the new girl at school, but she was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. I forget how we first got to talking, but we talked all the time. Sadly, we were both too shy to do a lot of talking in person. We mainly talked through the internet, but we talked on the phone and in person too. Sometimes we would stay up all night and talk to each other. Our conversations were so passionate it was spooky. I thought about this girl night and day. Unfortunately, I still think about her now. I think about her when I wake up and before I go to sleep. She will forever be imprinted inside my brain. I can honestly say we loved each other, but I still couldn’t make any sexual advances on her. In my mind I put her on a pedestal that shouldn’t be touched. I felt like touching her sexually would be like touching my sister. It was as if we were family. I realized I could never **** someone I loved. It would never seem right. It seemed immoral and wrong. It didn’t even have to be intercourse either, because I didn’t even have the desire to kiss her. I could talk unconditionally to this girl. I could tell her things I would tell no one else, yet somehow I had no desire to touch her. I started to wonder why I wasn’t normal. I could have had it all in ninth grade. I could have had the most beautiful and intelligent girl in every way. Instead, I became exceedingly difficult with her in our conversations. One day we just stopped talking. I know she looked at me as being somewhat of an enigma. We could talk to each other completely riveted for hours on end, yet I pitifully never attempted to make physical contact with her. I was puzzled as much as she was. She was beautiful and I loved her yet my penis did not. Nothing had changed since eighth grade; I was still incredibly scared of intimacy.

The next girl that I had any contact with was when I was a junior in high school. Her name was Bonnie, and she was having a small party at her house. I was there because my friend knew her well. I, however, never knew her before that night. In her basement we were all talked and drank. Eventually, after we were all sufficiently drunk, Bonnie suggested we all get into her hot tub. Only five of the people who were at her party got in, Bonnie and me included. Suddenly, while we were in the tub, Bonnie jumped on me and started making out with me. I was wearing boxers without the button on the fly and my erection came out in the open. I could tell Bonnie was flattered when she noticed how randy I was. I made out with this chick for a solid three hours. I had an erection the whole time too. However, I was too intimidated to advance to anything beyond kissing. I didn’t know how to unhook a bikini or bra, so I pathetically tried squeezing my hands underneath her cups to touch her breasts. This obviously didn’t work. I didn’t realize how tight the cups of a bra fit onto female breasts. Anyhow, despite my clumsiness she was just as aroused as I was. Before I left her house she sucked on nipples for a bit, and left me with an inevitable hickey on my neck. She wrote her number on my arm and pleaded me to call her the next day. Yet, I didn’t feel any motivation to call her and I never did. I knew I could have called her to get some play if I wanted it, but I was still too cowardly. Plus, I really didn’t feel the motivation to call. I bypassed my chance at the real thing and instead masturbated to the thought of her on my bed. Again, I wondered what was wrong with me.

The next contact with a girl I had was when I was seventeen. Again, this was a girl who was mysteriously enamored with me. This was also the first time I went out on dates. Together we would go out to eat, go out to the movies, and go out to the beach. She was very good looking and I was always too afraid to make a move on her. We probably went on five dates total before she got fed up with my sexual inadequacies. I recall one time we were both at the beach all alone. I could feel the pressure bearing down on me to make a move on her. However, I couldn’t even muster up the confidence to put my arm around her. So we sat on the sandy beach under the starlight. We sat close together, but not close enough for anyone to discern whether we were a couple. I entertained her because I could talk to her effortlessly. Then somehow I stupidly started talking about kissing. She looked me in the eyes and said, “kiss me.” I forget exactly how I reacted in that specific moment. However, I do know that I did not kiss her. Also, I remember later that night I sent her some poor excuse text message saying, “I didn’t want to kiss you because I would never want to disrespect you.” That was one of the more humiliating moments in my life.

I’ve never had a problem conversing with girls. It has always been intimate situations that cause me great anxiety and awkwardness. I feel like I have to hypnotize girls with my words so they turn into oversexed primitive animals. If I can’t do that, which I never have, then I feel unqualified for the job.

The next girl I came into contact with was when I graduated high school. Her name was Beth and she used to openly talk to me about how much she wanted my penis. She was known around school for being a promiscuous girl. However, she wasn’t especially good looking, though not fat. One time after basketball practice, I found a note on the windshield of my car from Beth which read, “I want your babies.” Anyway, to make a long story short, I found myself at my friend’s house extremely drunk while Beth was there...

 

[HandRobbery]

Beth was extremely drunk as well. She and I made our way to my friend’s bedroom. We were making out pretty heavily when I laid back on my friend’s bed. Beth then proceeded to take my pants off. She didn’t just take them off though, she threw them against the wall. She was ready to give me a blow job, when for some inexplicable reason, I grabbed her curly hair and said, “come here baby.” The words felt foreign coming off my tongue, and I know I said it awkwardly. I figured this was my time to lose my virginity, so I better not waste it on a blow job. However, I was too drunk to get a full erection. My penis waffled around flaccid and erect for twenty minutes. Beth tried her best to ride my penis, but it just wasn’t hard enough. Beth was still incredibly enthusiastic though. I, however, was still more nervous than thrilled. There was a point when Beth had been trying to ride me for twelve minutes straight. She inevitably tired and looked at me and said, “you go on top.” These words terrified me because I still didn’t want anyone to see my incredibly hairy butt. So I pretended like I was too drunk to comprehend what she had said to me. I must’ve been convincing because she got back on my waffling penis after a quick breather. When I felt ejaculatory inevitability I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I wasn’t wearing a condom so I pulled out and started masturbating. Her eyes lit up with joy when she watched me beating off in front of her. I saw it in porn but didn’t know if that move was executed in the real world. After my semen went all over my friend’s sheets, Beth tried cuddling with me but I pushed her away. I quickly got dressed and felt depressed. Who was this read headed monster I just shafted? I left that night and never heard from Beth again.


The next girl I came into contact with was a prostitute. I was a sophomore in college at the time. I looked through some ads and picked the girl who looked the hottest and who lived the closest. In the picture she was a hot blonde with huge tits and a nice ass. At the time this seemed like an infallible plan. I wanted a girl who was designed for sex. In the end, I figured this encounter would help me get over my own sexual short comings. I figured, If I could screw this girl like an animal and make her like it, I should be able to do it to any girl, and my hairy legs and butt would make no difference. Plus, I wanted a chance at redemption after that pathetic high school fling. So after I had a good buzz from the alcohol I drove over to her house. When she answered the door she resembled nothing like the girl in the advertisement. She was substantially fatter and had poor hygiene. She lived in a little one bedroom apartment. For lack of a better work, I suppose you could call it a crack house. However, I hadn’t masturbated in over a week, and I was too randy to turn back. So she led me to her bedroom. She hopped on her bed, and I noticed there was a baby inside a crib no more than two feet away. She then instructed me to take off my pants and I awkwardly completed the task. She started to take off her clothes and I watched while I was kneeling on her bed. When she took off her shirt I reached to touch one of her nipples, but my hand was like an icicle from the December cold. Needless to say, this still gave me an erection. She giggled at how cold my hands were, but started to do work on my penis. She performed oral sex on me for about 30 seconds, and I was confident if she didn’t stop for the vaginal intercourse that I was going to blow at any second. She then spread her legs wide and we started going missionary style. I inserted my penis as hard and as deep as I could into this haggard woman’s body. Yet, I was still embarrassed about my incredibly hairy butt. The stigma of my own sexual features wouldn’t even leave me when I was with a prostitute. After fifty seconds had gone by I had an orgasm. Terribly embarrassed and not knowing what to do I said, “they call me the minute man.” The prostitute genuinely laughed and I saw her disgusting smile. At that point in time, I thought I may never get an erection again.


The last encounter I had with a girl was only five months ago. I met her while standing in line for the bus. It was dark out when I initially met her, so I didn’t get a great look at her face. The next day when we made plans to meet, I realized that she was balding. This was incredibly disgusting but I didn’t have it in me to be cruel about it. Nonetheless, we made plans to go to the beach. But we had to take public transportation to get there. It ended up taking an hour just to get to the beach. By the time we got there I became hostile and cold. She could sense something was amiss, but her behavior became increasingly more bizarre. While we were walking, out of nowhere, she took my hand and grabbed her breasts with it. She said, “I call that the cushion. Just tell me when you want more of it.” Most of me was disgusted by this, but a little part of me was intrigued and a tiny part of me was randy. The girl had a great body, but she was losing her hair. She had to be home by dark time, so we started walking back to get on the bus again. While she was walking in front of me she stopped abruptly, and stuck her rear end out, so my crouch hit it. She looked at me and said, “you like that?” These sexual actions she was making were completely out of the character. For example, we would be talking about police officers, and then she would randomly grab my hand and try and rub her crouch with it. By the time we got back onto the bus she was incredibly randy. She told me to put my arm around her for the whole bus ride. Also, she instructed me to give her a shoulder massage. About one third of the bus ride in she took her jacket off and put it over her lap. She unzipped her fly and guided my hand toward her vulva. We were sitting in the very back of a completely filled bus. Every seat in the bus was taken by someone. Despite all that, I started to masturbate her. I felt a little queasy and it was obvious to the other passengers that I was touching her under the jacket. Many times people would look back at us and laugh, but she wanted me to keep going. She didn’t care about the snickers and callous remarks. When we got off the bus she wanted me to masturbate her again. The weather outside was terrible. It was pouring rain and a thunderstorm seemed to be ahead. I was already soaked with rain and we had only one umbrella. Since we were in her town, she led us to what she called a shelter. However, it was really just a big Oak Tree. By the time we got there she already had her pants down. I felt nauseous but for some reason I couldn’t say no. She leaned up against the tree and I started fingering her with my left hand, and I held the umbrella with my right hand. Because I was slightly angry and sick I fingered her harder than someone should finger a girl. Within three minutes she started to dig her fingernails into my back and I could feel odd contractions in her vagina. She then pulled up her pants and said, “my first orgasm.” After this, I froze looking at my hand. I felt my stomach swirling and I vomited under the big Oak Tree. She looked at me shocked, reached into her bag and said, “do you want some hand sanitizer?”

 

[Mr_rogers]

Oh man... okay, I read both of those posts, and though I'm no shining example of a DJ or whatever, I can tell you with confidence that you're really no different from most of the others that visit this site. You're simply insecure and suffer from low self-esteem. Save us another maxed-character post and read the DJ Bible, then get moving on getting your life on track.

 

[MikeBrown30]

Why the fu<k are you embarassed about having a hairy ass? Get it waxed if it's such a big problem for you.