In Honor of my Virginversary...
This is a piece that I wrote about the night I lost my virginity. Contains (obviously) sexual content and some language. I'm posting this up here in honor of today being four years to the day since this very event took place. Please do not reprint or repost this anywhere without my permission, because I'm pretty sure this is going to go into my book, The Naughty Autie. Thank you!
~*~
The facts are simple.
Tonight is the night it’s going to happen. I can barely breathe as I flit around my apartment, arranging everything just so, making it all perfect and beautiful. The purple silk swishes around my body like water, the crisp taffeta under my skirt rubbing brusquely against my thighs. Every second brings it closer, this night, this plan that I’ve created. Yes. It will all go according to plan.
Bzzt! The doorbell sounds loudly, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I buzz him in, frantically arranging the twin wine glasses on the coffee table, double-checking the CD player to make sure the right disc is lying in wait. My hands tremble as I smooth out the lines on my clothes, carefully examining my hair in the mirror by the door and then that bell rings and again I jump-I’m so jumpy normally, but even more so tonight.
I open the door. Sandy brown hair hangs in perfectly arranged wisps across his forehead. He is wearing a button-down shirt. I had asked him to wear it, wanting so much to fulfill a long-time fantasy of slowly unbuttoning a boy’s shirt as I am getting ready to make love.
Love is all I feel when I’m around him. The preparations I’ve made only seem complete when he is finally there to see them, to see how much work I’ve put into this night-this perfect night.
“Kiss me.”
I’ve had just a few sips of my wine by then, though he’s drunk his glass entirely. He must be thirsty, I figure. Maybe a little nervous about tonight. But why should he be? He’s much more experienced than I am, which is part of why I know everything will be so perfect.
I try to set my thoughts aside as he suddenly plunders my mouth, his hands sliding eagerly over my chest and underneath my butt. The music playing in the background enhances the atmosphere, and I feel my heart pounding harder with every throbbing beat of the bass line-as its tempo increases, so does my own.
“Jonathan,” I whisper, loving the scent of him filling my senses, the feel of his skin under my hands as I finally remove the button-down shirt, sliding my fingers across and down his smooth, lanky, endlessly long torso. My skirt and top have long been forgotten, and the confines of the narrow couch seem too limited now for what’s coming next.
He lifts me effortlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist and carrying me into the bedroom.
Oh, God.
It’s getting closer now, that moment, that one, definite, physical confirmation of all that I’ve felt for him and that I am sure he feels for me.
What will it feel like? I wonder as he pushes my knees apart, lowering his head between my thighs.
I realize then that foreplay is not only a physical act, but a mental one as well. He kisses up my heated skin, moving ever closer to my folds. I gasp and writhe as I have before, quickly coming unraveled beneath his deft touch. I know how to behave here-what to do, what to expect-but still my mind leaps to what lies ahead, and how I will not know what to do. But he will teach me. He will help me get through this. He’ll make it wonderful just by being here with me. In me.
My nerves are steeled as I think of this and reach my physical completion, back arching, eyes rolling in the back of my head as the sensations wash over me. I can only think of how fantastic it will be in this new configuration, with him penetrating me, opening me up to a world I’d only ever dreamed of.
The crinkling of the tinfoil packet is like thunder in my ears. I listen carefully, knowing that he is making the final preparations, and I decide to make some of my own.
My palms are sweating as I lie there, fingers threading together anxiously. Okay… I think to myself. We’ll probably start out with the Missionary position. That seems the best approach to begin. Should I wrap my legs around his waist? I don’t know if they’ll reach…they’re not very long. He’s so tall-will this even work? Maybe I should be on top. But it’s my first time, and I believe Missionary is more standard for this sort of thing. Oh, well. I’ll just let him take the lead. I know he’ll do what’s right.
I watch as he slides it onto himself with a practiced touch, wondering how I will be able to take that enormous piece of flesh into my body. My muscles clench unconsciously, eyes darting around the faintly lit room as I try to quiet my thoughts.
“Ready?” I hear him say.
I nod quietly in response, lying still as he climbs on top of me. My legs are almost too short to get around him, and I whimper with frustration, pushing myself down further to line up our pelvises. My hands grip his back tightly as he enters me, and the pain is searing.
I want to scream, to cry out, to push him off of me and call the whole thing off. He slides in further still, forcing his way past the resistant barriers.
“How does it feel?” I choke out, trying to keep the tears from my voice.
“Tight…” he grunts from above me, gasping for breath.
I tilt my head back to look into his eyes, but there is only a wall of bare torso. His long neck lies above my head, his face buried in a pillow as he begins to move inside of me.
It’ll get better. It’ll get better. It has to get better. The mantra repeats itself frantically in my head as I try not to stop breathing. I beg my body to move, to respond in some way and reciprocate his thrusts. Please…please do something. Please be good at this! Don’t disappoint him! But it won’t listen.
Suddenly, he stops, pulling out of me altogether.
“What-what’s wrong?” I ask, turning to look at him as he rolls off and lies next to me.
“I’m-I’m having some trouble, uh…” he starts but can’t finish, casting a wayward glance at his crotch. I look down and study it for a moment, and soon have my answer.
Oh! He’s having difficulty staying aroused. He must be tired, he spent all day working today. I mean…that has to be it. Right?
“Is it me?” I suddenly feel so small next to him and wish for a blanket to cover my body.
“No,” he replies, the heaving of his chest beginning to slow as his breath evens out. “I’m just tired. I worked all day today.”
Tsunamis would have a hard time rivaling the tidal wave of relief that washes over me. I smile triumphantly at him having confirmed my very own suspicions.
“Well, maybe I can help you out. Close your eyes.”
He honors my request, and I quickly scramble off the bed, stumbling over a pair of my shoes as I hurry to the closet.
Oh, where is it, where is it?? Ah, there! The plastic crinkles beneath my half-sweaty hand. I remember despairing when I first tried it on and the top was too big. A Girls’ size 14 and I can’t even fit into it! I berated myself, thinking that my best-laid plans had fallen to ruin. Thank God for the dry cleaners… I grin, pulling it off the hangers.
“Keep ‘em closed!” I call out, pulling on the skirt first. The strangeness of going from nudity to wearing clothes at this point confuses me, and for a moment I wonder if I should put on underwear, but realize that it would defeat the purpose.
“All right…you can open them now,” I giggle coyly.
“Wow…” I hear him say.
“I thought it might help. I hope you like it.”
“I love it.”
He signals to me then, beckoning me over with a finger, and I swallow hard as I crawl back onto the bed. The preparations are beginning again, his arousal swelling once more in the palm of my hand.
He’s soon reinserted himself in me, his fingers clawing at the purple “W” on my chest as he begins to thrust with renewed vigor.
I knew this would work! I gleefully cheer inside my head, an entirely too appropriate reaction.
“Ungh…” I moan, desperately trying to find the pleasure hidden far behind the pain. It is less than forthcoming, staying far out of my reach, and so I surrender, lying back and praying for him to finish soon.
I wonder who the guest on The Daily Show is tonight… I drift away to someplace else, the numbness spreading through my body as he plunges in and out, seeking his own climax. Next time will be better. I just need more practice.
A loud groan from above shakes me out of my thoughts. I feel him shudder all over, his penis twitching inside its plastic encasement. He thrusts once, twice more, milking his completion into me.
Finally… I sigh, my arms holding him in place as he lies still on top of me. The rapid pounding of his heart echoes against my face, and I move one hand down across the sweat on his skin, fingers lightly caressing his chest in that spot.
“I gotta go wash up,” he mumbles, moving off of me and heading for the bathroom.
“Okay…” I say to no one in particular, since he didn’t stay long enough to hear my response.
Slowly, I lift the bottom of the skirt, looking in between my thighs to survey the landscape. A small trickle of blood has stained the pale skin.
“That’s it?” I say to myself and out loud. I was sure that my vagina would resemble one of the war-torn regions of Baghdad by then. How could it look exactly the same?
“It can’t be the same. I’m not the same. I’m a woman now!” I exclaimed, face flushed and warm as the realization of what just happened sunk in.
“I did it. I finally had sex!” I declared, jumping up off the bed. “Oooh…” I wince, the slight soreness a potent reminder of that very face. “I’m sore…I mean, really sore…but in a good way,” I say, taking stock of all the newly-activated muscles in my body. Jonathan is still in the bathroom, but I’m sure he must be able to hear me, even though he doesn’t answer.
My hands begin to shake with joy, and I need to tell someone…no, everyone, what has happened. But it’s 2 o’clock in the morning…who can I tell? I wonder, pacing from my room to the living room and back. I stop dead in my tracks as I spy the slightly open window on the other side of the bed.
With what feels like superhuman strength, I yank it all the way open, gasping as the cold air hits me. It is soon forgotten as I pull back the screen, sticking my head out into the night:
“I AM NO LONGER A VIRGIN!! DO YOU HEAR THAT, SEATTLE?!”
My voice echoes off some of the buildings, then fades into the distance. Some part of me hopes that no one was awake to hear that, but another wishes it was the middle of the day and that everyone could. Bus drivers, deli owners, crossing guards, priests-I want the world to know of this great line that I’ve crossed, and the newness that everything has taken on in its wake. My chest is full to bursting as I look at the grass, the rooftops, the lights-everything greener, higher, brighter than it ever was before.
The springs in the bed squeak as he crawls beneath the covers then, the only announcement of his return to the room. I scurry underneath to join him, arms wrapping around his back from behind as he lies on his side.
“Did you hear that??” I ask, unable to get rid of the grin on my face.
“I did,” he replies, still facing away from me.
“Oh, I just can’t believe it finally happened! I’m so happy. Thank you so much for doing this!” I snuggle into him, pressing kisses up his spine to his neck, which I nibble on lightly.
“You’re welcome. I’m pretty tired, though…I think I’m gonna go to sleep now.”
“Oh. Okay!” I answer, settling down to sleep.
“Could you maybe back off a little? I need some space,” he says.
“Sure!” I oblige, scooting back slowly to my side of the bed.
I can’t hide the fact that I am disappointed. I had wanted so much to fall asleep in his arms, because that’s what you’re supposed to do after sex. I guess this is just how he is, though, needing to be by himself. Yes, he’s probably always been like this, I tell myself, reasoning that he’s done this far more times than I have, so he knows what he likes much more than I do.
The thoughts don’t seem to slow down even as I try to sleep, and I watch his side rise and fall, wondering why he doesn’t want to be near me.
“Jonathan?”
“Hmm?” He still doesn’t look at me.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep with your arms around me?”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I lie awake, still staring over at him the dark; mind, body, and heart aching to be close to him. Even after he has given me this answer, I hope he’ll change his mind, so I wait, staying awake, just in case. But it soon becomes apparent that he won’t.
“Good night,” I whisper, drawing the sheets up close to my chin and slowly falling into a dreamless, uncertain sleep.
~*~
The facts are simple.
Tonight is the night it’s going to happen. I can barely breathe as I flit around my apartment, arranging everything just so, making it all perfect and beautiful. The purple silk swishes around my body like water, the crisp taffeta under my skirt rubbing brusquely against my thighs. Every second brings it closer, this night, this plan that I’ve created. Yes. It will all go according to plan.
Bzzt! The doorbell sounds loudly, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I buzz him in, frantically arranging the twin wine glasses on the coffee table, double-checking the CD player to make sure the right disc is lying in wait. My hands tremble as I smooth out the lines on my clothes, carefully examining my hair in the mirror by the door and then that bell rings and again I jump-I’m so jumpy normally, but even more so tonight.
I open the door. Sandy brown hair hangs in perfectly arranged wisps across his forehead. He is wearing a button-down shirt. I had asked him to wear it, wanting so much to fulfill a long-time fantasy of slowly unbuttoning a boy’s shirt as I am getting ready to make love.
Love is all I feel when I’m around him. The preparations I’ve made only seem complete when he is finally there to see them, to see how much work I’ve put into this night-this perfect night.
“Kiss me.”
I’ve had just a few sips of my wine by then, though he’s drunk his glass entirely. He must be thirsty, I figure. Maybe a little nervous about tonight. But why should he be? He’s much more experienced than I am, which is part of why I know everything will be so perfect.
I try to set my thoughts aside as he suddenly plunders my mouth, his hands sliding eagerly over my chest and underneath my butt. The music playing in the background enhances the atmosphere, and I feel my heart pounding harder with every throbbing beat of the bass line-as its tempo increases, so does my own.
“Jonathan,” I whisper, loving the scent of him filling my senses, the feel of his skin under my hands as I finally remove the button-down shirt, sliding my fingers across and down his smooth, lanky, endlessly long torso. My skirt and top have long been forgotten, and the confines of the narrow couch seem too limited now for what’s coming next.
He lifts me effortlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist and carrying me into the bedroom.
Oh, God.
It’s getting closer now, that moment, that one, definite, physical confirmation of all that I’ve felt for him and that I am sure he feels for me.
What will it feel like? I wonder as he pushes my knees apart, lowering his head between my thighs.
I realize then that foreplay is not only a physical act, but a mental one as well. He kisses up my heated skin, moving ever closer to my folds. I gasp and writhe as I have before, quickly coming unraveled beneath his deft touch. I know how to behave here-what to do, what to expect-but still my mind leaps to what lies ahead, and how I will not know what to do. But he will teach me. He will help me get through this. He’ll make it wonderful just by being here with me. In me.
My nerves are steeled as I think of this and reach my physical completion, back arching, eyes rolling in the back of my head as the sensations wash over me. I can only think of how fantastic it will be in this new configuration, with him penetrating me, opening me up to a world I’d only ever dreamed of.
The crinkling of the tinfoil packet is like thunder in my ears. I listen carefully, knowing that he is making the final preparations, and I decide to make some of my own.
My palms are sweating as I lie there, fingers threading together anxiously. Okay… I think to myself. We’ll probably start out with the Missionary position. That seems the best approach to begin. Should I wrap my legs around his waist? I don’t know if they’ll reach…they’re not very long. He’s so tall-will this even work? Maybe I should be on top. But it’s my first time, and I believe Missionary is more standard for this sort of thing. Oh, well. I’ll just let him take the lead. I know he’ll do what’s right.
I watch as he slides it onto himself with a practiced touch, wondering how I will be able to take that enormous piece of flesh into my body. My muscles clench unconsciously, eyes darting around the faintly lit room as I try to quiet my thoughts.
“Ready?” I hear him say.
I nod quietly in response, lying still as he climbs on top of me. My legs are almost too short to get around him, and I whimper with frustration, pushing myself down further to line up our pelvises. My hands grip his back tightly as he enters me, and the pain is searing.
I want to scream, to cry out, to push him off of me and call the whole thing off. He slides in further still, forcing his way past the resistant barriers.
“How does it feel?” I choke out, trying to keep the tears from my voice.
“Tight…” he grunts from above me, gasping for breath.
I tilt my head back to look into his eyes, but there is only a wall of bare torso. His long neck lies above my head, his face buried in a pillow as he begins to move inside of me.
It’ll get better. It’ll get better. It has to get better. The mantra repeats itself frantically in my head as I try not to stop breathing. I beg my body to move, to respond in some way and reciprocate his thrusts. Please…please do something. Please be good at this! Don’t disappoint him! But it won’t listen.
Suddenly, he stops, pulling out of me altogether.
“What-what’s wrong?” I ask, turning to look at him as he rolls off and lies next to me.
“I’m-I’m having some trouble, uh…” he starts but can’t finish, casting a wayward glance at his crotch. I look down and study it for a moment, and soon have my answer.
Oh! He’s having difficulty staying aroused. He must be tired, he spent all day working today. I mean…that has to be it. Right?
“Is it me?” I suddenly feel so small next to him and wish for a blanket to cover my body.
“No,” he replies, the heaving of his chest beginning to slow as his breath evens out. “I’m just tired. I worked all day today.”
Tsunamis would have a hard time rivaling the tidal wave of relief that washes over me. I smile triumphantly at him having confirmed my very own suspicions.
“Well, maybe I can help you out. Close your eyes.”
He honors my request, and I quickly scramble off the bed, stumbling over a pair of my shoes as I hurry to the closet.
Oh, where is it, where is it?? Ah, there! The plastic crinkles beneath my half-sweaty hand. I remember despairing when I first tried it on and the top was too big. A Girls’ size 14 and I can’t even fit into it! I berated myself, thinking that my best-laid plans had fallen to ruin. Thank God for the dry cleaners… I grin, pulling it off the hangers.
“Keep ‘em closed!” I call out, pulling on the skirt first. The strangeness of going from nudity to wearing clothes at this point confuses me, and for a moment I wonder if I should put on underwear, but realize that it would defeat the purpose.
“All right…you can open them now,” I giggle coyly.
“Wow…” I hear him say.
“I thought it might help. I hope you like it.”
“I love it.”
He signals to me then, beckoning me over with a finger, and I swallow hard as I crawl back onto the bed. The preparations are beginning again, his arousal swelling once more in the palm of my hand.
He’s soon reinserted himself in me, his fingers clawing at the purple “W” on my chest as he begins to thrust with renewed vigor.
I knew this would work! I gleefully cheer inside my head, an entirely too appropriate reaction.
“Ungh…” I moan, desperately trying to find the pleasure hidden far behind the pain. It is less than forthcoming, staying far out of my reach, and so I surrender, lying back and praying for him to finish soon.
I wonder who the guest on The Daily Show is tonight… I drift away to someplace else, the numbness spreading through my body as he plunges in and out, seeking his own climax. Next time will be better. I just need more practice.
A loud groan from above shakes me out of my thoughts. I feel him shudder all over, his penis twitching inside its plastic encasement. He thrusts once, twice more, milking his completion into me.
Finally… I sigh, my arms holding him in place as he lies still on top of me. The rapid pounding of his heart echoes against my face, and I move one hand down across the sweat on his skin, fingers lightly caressing his chest in that spot.
“I gotta go wash up,” he mumbles, moving off of me and heading for the bathroom.
“Okay…” I say to no one in particular, since he didn’t stay long enough to hear my response.
Slowly, I lift the bottom of the skirt, looking in between my thighs to survey the landscape. A small trickle of blood has stained the pale skin.
“That’s it?” I say to myself and out loud. I was sure that my vagina would resemble one of the war-torn regions of Baghdad by then. How could it look exactly the same?
“It can’t be the same. I’m not the same. I’m a woman now!” I exclaimed, face flushed and warm as the realization of what just happened sunk in.
“I did it. I finally had sex!” I declared, jumping up off the bed. “Oooh…” I wince, the slight soreness a potent reminder of that very face. “I’m sore…I mean, really sore…but in a good way,” I say, taking stock of all the newly-activated muscles in my body. Jonathan is still in the bathroom, but I’m sure he must be able to hear me, even though he doesn’t answer.
My hands begin to shake with joy, and I need to tell someone…no, everyone, what has happened. But it’s 2 o’clock in the morning…who can I tell? I wonder, pacing from my room to the living room and back. I stop dead in my tracks as I spy the slightly open window on the other side of the bed.
With what feels like superhuman strength, I yank it all the way open, gasping as the cold air hits me. It is soon forgotten as I pull back the screen, sticking my head out into the night:
“I AM NO LONGER A VIRGIN!! DO YOU HEAR THAT, SEATTLE?!”
My voice echoes off some of the buildings, then fades into the distance. Some part of me hopes that no one was awake to hear that, but another wishes it was the middle of the day and that everyone could. Bus drivers, deli owners, crossing guards, priests-I want the world to know of this great line that I’ve crossed, and the newness that everything has taken on in its wake. My chest is full to bursting as I look at the grass, the rooftops, the lights-everything greener, higher, brighter than it ever was before.
The springs in the bed squeak as he crawls beneath the covers then, the only announcement of his return to the room. I scurry underneath to join him, arms wrapping around his back from behind as he lies on his side.
“Did you hear that??” I ask, unable to get rid of the grin on my face.
“I did,” he replies, still facing away from me.
“Oh, I just can’t believe it finally happened! I’m so happy. Thank you so much for doing this!” I snuggle into him, pressing kisses up his spine to his neck, which I nibble on lightly.
“You’re welcome. I’m pretty tired, though…I think I’m gonna go to sleep now.”
“Oh. Okay!” I answer, settling down to sleep.
“Could you maybe back off a little? I need some space,” he says.
“Sure!” I oblige, scooting back slowly to my side of the bed.
I can’t hide the fact that I am disappointed. I had wanted so much to fall asleep in his arms, because that’s what you’re supposed to do after sex. I guess this is just how he is, though, needing to be by himself. Yes, he’s probably always been like this, I tell myself, reasoning that he’s done this far more times than I have, so he knows what he likes much more than I do.
The thoughts don’t seem to slow down even as I try to sleep, and I watch his side rise and fall, wondering why he doesn’t want to be near me.
“Jonathan?”
“Hmm?” He still doesn’t look at me.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep with your arms around me?”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I lie awake, still staring over at him the dark; mind, body, and heart aching to be close to him. Even after he has given me this answer, I hope he’ll change his mind, so I wait, staying awake, just in case. But it soon becomes apparent that he won’t.
“Good night,” I whisper, drawing the sheets up close to my chin and slowly falling into a dreamless, uncertain sleep.