I was 17 or 18 living in Elmira, Ont.
The Kids in the Hall were just finishing their CBC run, I liked the Rheostatics (and Paul Quarrington), and somewhere in London, Ont., Justin Bieber was being born.
My parents were tight lipped about sex and my high school, well, it was basic. Sure it had sexual education, but it didn’t cover actual sexuality. I was privy to sexual acts, but the idea of how different people are when it comes to being sexual was just shapes in a fog.
Let me put it this way, up until I started dating when I was 15, my knowledge of sexuality was told to me by the likes of Def Leppard, Poison and fucking Motley Crue. Yes, fucking Motley Crue. You see what I was working with. Anyway.
A friend and I were invited to the big city (Kitchener) to go to a party. The majority of the night is a bit of a blur but one series of events I’ll never forget.
I found myself in the basement playing strip poker with three girls. I recognized one of them from playing high school rugby as she played as well. She was a couple inches taller than I and was beautifully monolithic. The other two were random friends. It didn’t take long until the four of us were just in our underwear.
I was doing my best to pretend to be very interested in the game. Then, it happened.
The two girls across from me started kissing. At first it was tender then it ramped up. I think I heard teeth hitting each other. I was stupefied.
I remember them getting up and moving to a couch, and I turned to my left to look at the rugby girl but she was already getting up and walking towards me.
There she was in her underwear, looking down at me. I had no idea what was going to happen until she said, “Well, time for you to go.”
Then she picked me up, carried me out of the room, gave me my clothes and closed the door in my face.
I stood there in shock for several minutes.
Before I started putting on my clothes, I heard giggles and laughing and various swooning sounds coming from behind the door. The situation was one of sheer awesomeness.
It wasn’t until the ride home, trying to explain it to my friend, that things started to make sense.
Now, this may seem rudimentary to some, but as a white CIS dude who was brought up in Cape Breton in the early eighties, this was like getting hit in the mind with a bat made out of wizard dreams.
Seeing women lust after each other, then realizing that I was a fifth wheel (fourth would suggest usefulness), was extremely liberating.
Having a first hand account of women being openly sexual in an honest (non-pornographic) way taught me more about femininity and womanhood than any sex-ed class or Poison ballad ever could.
It taught me that girls like sex too. It taught me that sexuality is wonderfully fluid. And most importantly, it taught me that as much as I thought I knew, I didn’t know anything. Still don’t.