Where it happened: Beside a Lake
Langauge: English
Sex: Female
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
When people, especially young people talk about sex there are more than a few generalizations and stereotypes expressed. Many claim that the first time someone experiences sexual intercourse it is clumsy, unpleasant, and unsatisfactory. That it hurts something awful for females and the males expect it to be more incredible than it ends up being.
Among girls there is pressure to get it over with (though perhaps not as much pressure as males are exposed to) and usually the first lover a female has is someone who she´s not necessarily in love with or even attracted to strongly, but feels some level of comfort with.
During the entirety of my life I didn´t think about sex much. I was only mildly interested in relationships or men, and certainly not any of the prospective men around me. Even so, when the subject did appear in my mind I was determined that my first time would be an enjoyable experience that I would feel neither shame nor regret about. I knew I wouldn´t give it up easily nor to someone I only felt mildly interested in. My particular set of morals did not find it necessary to wed someone. A ring and a piece of paper usually signified divorce in a few years anyway. Even so, I felt special about my virginity, and wanted it to be a gift to someone who was also special, and uniquely important to me.
As an avid bibliophile I had encountered a few sexual episodes in text. In the fantasy and sci-fi novels I read it was always lingering on the horizon. And the culture of the United States is obsessed with sex, so it was difficult to avoid any thought of it altogether.
And when I considered my sexuality I was satisfied and proud of it. Proud that I had resisted the high school boys who had tried to tempt me (and any other person they thought there was the slightest possibility of being successful with). Satisfied that I was happy being a solitary girl who was physically pure and psychologically healthy in matters of sex.
The summer after I graduated from high school I was taking a college course in a city nearby. After hours of lecture and labwork I liked to go to the movies or linger in one of the many bookstores nearby.
I was in Barnes and Noble one of these days when a man much older than myself reached for the same Orson Scott Card novel that I did. We exchanged smiles, and then conversation, and he asked me if I´d like to see a film with him.
Throwing caution to the wind, I agreed to go out with this near stranger. There were attempts on my part to play it cool, to watch and see if this man were a pervert or trying to take advantage of me, but he was so utterly without guile or malice that I swiftly became comfortable with him.
After that, we went to the movies together practically everyday, breaking it up with trips to bookstores (he too was a bibliophile and owned more books than I.) We´d follow up by sharing lunch or a snack at one of the local restaurants.
We were fast friends and I was attracted to him in every sense. Soon, we were holding hands, kissing in the darkened theatres where the movies were playing, sneaking onto the local university campus where I was taking classes and titilating each other with kisses and caresses behind the bushes.
I went to visit him a few months later. He had moved to another state but we were still exclusive. After picking me up at the airport we took a walk by a lake nearby his home. It was a end-of-the-summer night. No one was about except for fireflies. We began to kiss in the moonlight on a picnic table.
Anxiously, I waited for something to happen that would ruin the experience. Everyone had told me my first time would be a let down. But as he smoothed his hands over my body without shame and with much appreciation I relaxed and enjoyed myself and willfully decided that I wanted him to be the one. He was my friend and my beau and treated me with more respect and attention than I had ever received from anyone in my life.
He found my unpoluted nubile adolescence appealing and my naive, clumsy ways endearing. He loved everything that I loved, from the trivial things like favourite authors and TV shows, to the more important things like spiritual views and shared values.
He was that perfect mix of gentle and assertive, and when he touched me I felt jarred as though someone had pumped some miraculous chemical into my veins. I became increasingly excited and he spoke to me in soft dangerous phrases which shocked and pleased me.
There were lights in houses far off, and the idea that we might be caught was both terrifying and exciting. When at last he pressed into me I felt nothing but happiness and pleasure. There was nothing dirty or tacky in it. It was all clean and good and new.
I peaked twice and this surprised me as I thought he wouldn´t be able to bring me to such heights without knowing me intimately for a long time. He cradled me against his burly chest and kissed my cheeks and gave me a mischievous little grin and we hurried off into the night to his home to sleep and cuddle and do all those smarmy sentimental things that only lose their cheesiness when they are happening to you.
I want to tell all women that they should wait, because even if they do not value their virginity in the same way I did, if they keep it for the right person they will enjoy the experience all the more.
It is good to see that many people who write here use protection. I highly advocate both birth control and STD protection although remind everyone and myself that the only 100% preventor is abstinence.
Sex is just sex, but when emotions take part it is more than just mutual physical satisfaction. The books and movies and songs can´t describe a single iota of your experience because yours will be unique.
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