turtle blows his wad first.

Learning about sex. Well, that's not as easy a subject that you think it would be. Seeing two dogs go at it or a squirrel hump your leg isn't quite the same thing we are talking about. It's a process. Like lighting a cigarette on the wrong end. Eating day old food. That’s not right. Kind of like sex. It's always a learning process. I am not naive enough that someone is going to tell me they learned about sex the first time they had sex. Unless this was like a Jerry Springer show or something. And we don't throw beads unless you send us topless pics of you.

So how did I learn about sex?

Easy. I have two stories.

One I won’t go into because having your dad pay for a prostitute is not the kind of thing you want to put on the internet. She only had one leg. A mighty hooker was she. I'll tell that story one day, but for now, the first time I learned about sex?

I was about seven. My grandpa had died and I watched my father cry for the first time ever, and the last time he ever cried. See, that's the way he was. Someone had to set the mast and sail the ship. It was his job and he knew it. So no matter what was going on, he always had to sit and calmly think about any situation and get thru it while taking his crew with him. Sure, they could cry, but he never could. He had to keep going.

But one night he couldn't take it anymore. I asked him why we were in this shitty town in this fucking hotel and he told me, "My dad has died. We are burying him tomorrow."

The look in his eyes was something I have only seen a few times in my life with other people. It's that "I just need five minutes to 24 hours to be on my own" look. It's a desparete look off someone who had hit the end. I've seen it before. I can hear it in people’s voices. You can just tell when the ship is sinking and the Captain needs a break before he goes back to fixing the ship.

Anyways, he wandered off, presumable to a bar, and we were just left in a crappy hotel in the middle of no mans land with just a TV. That's it. Well, we had a phone with us.

Pay per view porn’s.

The fuck if I knew what "Behind the Green Door" was. Shit. Sounds like a horror flick. So we ordered it. Two kids waiting for what seems like something scary to come on. All alone watching this movie.

Well, there's a chick. I'll bet she gets taken out pretty quick. Well, she is taking off her clothes. She is definitely dead now. Wonder what that thing is?

I was no stranger to naked ladies. My grandpa’s house was filled with porn, but it was like soft core porn. So I got the whole vagina thing but really never put it together. I knew I had an outty and girls had innies, but from then on it was like a drunk playing pool. There was a hole. The stick goes to it, but after that I was lost.

The girl took her clothes off and a massive penis entered her.

No. This wasn't shock on my face. This was the ending of the puzzle. I got it now. That's how it works. I get it. I thought it worked that way but was never really sure.

I'm really sad to say that I learned about sex from a death in the family and some porno from the 70's but you see, sometimes things happen in life.

Sometimes you take those lessons where you go because you learned them well.

And sometimes you forget that not all girls like anal sex, but hey, it was in the movie.

Like teaching a first grader how to bounce a ball, I learned that night about positions. I was the karma fucking sutra of the elementary school. I had seen it all. Kids would want me to tell them stories about sex and all I could say were things like, "You don't wanna know" or "they looked like they were in pain". Scary stories that would actually make 4-square courts turn into 2-square as the boys wandered away from the girls. Pain is a motivating factor in a lot of kid’s decisions. Me, telling them they looked like they were in pain while having sex with this...woman...didn't help.

I had seen it.

They hadn't.

The horror. - T

michele comes next:

Back in my day no one learned about sex from their parents. And certainly not from teachers. Sure, parents tried to have that “birds and bees” talk with you, but they would be so clinical and dry about it that you lost interest after “vas deferens” and you let them off the hook by saying, don’t worry, you knew all about this already. They looked at you with a mixture of relief and worry. But the relief was greater. So they shoved you out the door. And then you realized you don’t know shit. And you have to find it out.

But sometimes it turns out your parents teach you more than you want to. Case in point. My parents were having one of those 1970's era cocktail parties. Lots of young, drunk suburban couples sitting around an olive green living room sipping drinks that had umbrellas in them. Me and my friend Lori crouched down in the kitchen, trying to listen in on the adult conversation, maybe get some juicy curse words, before someone saw us and sent us back outside.

They were telling jokes.

The punchline to one was something like “......and then she had an orgasm!” Repeated again. Everyone saying it over and over. Orgasm! Hahaha! ORGASM! Oh my GOD ORGASM!

I turn to Lori. “What’s an orgasm?” She shrugs. We run out the door, across the street to Lori’s house and break out the dictionary. O. Orgasm. There it is....the high point of sexual activity. Something like that. We asked Lori’s much older stepsister about it. She described it a little more...intimately. In great detail. With sound effects.

And thus began the Age of Sexual Exploration. Me, Lori and the unspoken knowledge that we weren’t lesbians or anything, we were just on a quest to figure out what the fuck an orgasm felt like.

We gave up the ghost before we got our answer. Lori started dating this boy and I barely saw her anymore. I started masturbating. Furiously.

Ahhh. So that’s an orgasm. Sweeeeet.

I don’t remember how I learned about the rest of the sex facts. The important stuff like “can I get pregnant if I leave my clothes on” and “can I catch VD from a toilet seat.” All I know is that one day when I was in high school, I managed to be in the studio audience of some talk show and they were asking all the teens in the audience how they learned about sex. They pointed the mic in my face. “Umm...I learned it on the street.” Something to that effect. Immediately, my parents’ phone started ringing. “Was that your daughter I just saw on that show?? What did she say? On the STREET?” Mom was rightfully mortified.

But hey, it was her fault for not giving me the whole talk when she started it. And it could have been worse. I could have told the Art Linkletter audience all about Lori. And the orgasm party.

Which brings me full circle. Because really, I’m no better when it comes to talking to my own kids about sex. An example, from when my son was 8 (about five years ago).

The boy comes out of the bathroom and says he has a Very Important Question. Ok this usually means something about Derek Jeter's batting stance or how CatDog goes to the bathroom. So I expect something innocuous.

"Mom, what are my balls for?”

Silence on my part.

“I'm not trying to be disgusting or anything, but what are they for?"

Well fuck. It’s 7:40 am and I gotta get to work and he has to get to school and the daughter is about to miss her bus. He has to ask this now?

I explain, however briefly, about seeds and fertilization and babies.

My kid thinks along straight lines, and he needs proof and written explanations of how everything works. So there is no lying to him about anything. He takes in everything I just told him and realizes I left out key parts.

"So, how does the stuff a guy has down there get into the woman?"

Shit. 7:45.

"Ummm, the guy puts it in there."

I know. Bad answer.

Kid contemplates this. Stares at me. Thinks. Ponders. I can almost see his wheels turning.

His face scrunches up in a look of horror as his innocent little mind comes up with the only possible way that seed could get where it has to go.

"IN HER MOUTH?? HE PUTS IT IN HER MOUTH??"

The color drains from his face.

I try really hard not to laugh. The kid is 8 at this point , knows basically nothing about the human anatomy that does not involve his own little area that he is constantly adjusting.

Damn it. 7:50. Gotta go.

I do my best to quickly explain to him how the sperm gets into the woman.

His jaw drops. His mouth hangs open. He sits in stunned silence for a moment.

"No, really. Don't make up stuff to me. Tell me the truth."
"Really.”
"Really?"
"Yes."
"It would have been better if you just said God made babies. I would have believed you."

Hell, I’m just glad I cleared up the mouth issue. That could have caused problems for him later on in life.

And let’s just say I’m pretty thankful the school handles this stuff now. I’m apparently not that good at it.

You should hear the story behind the title of this post -M

And that concludes a sex-drenched Thursday. How did you learn about the deed? Your parents? Teacher? Trial and error? Some creepy guy that reminds you of Milkman Dan? Or are you a little behind the times and you just learned from us how babies are made ?

Sorry for the spoiler.