Where it happened: his apartment
Langauge: English
Sex: Female
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
SO, I consider my first real time my actual 2nd time, because the actual loss of my virginity was to date rape. No fun, and no reason to go into it.
The point is, I had a mixed blessing a few weeks later. I was just 21 and had been in love with D since we’d met as young teenagers. We’d met at a summer program and lived in different countries, so we didn’t always talk often, though he had visited me (well, really his friends, but stayed with me) the semester before. Now I was visiting him.
My first day there we spent all day waiting for my suitcase which has missed the connection. For some reason he was uncharacteristically wanting to talk deeply about many subjects. A lot of it was stuff he was stressed about and needed advice he couldn’t get from email. All well and good.
When we went to bed, I had a spare mattress in his room. We talked some more, and we talked about how we thought of each other. I sort of bit the bullet and told him how deeply I felt for him, and how much a part of me those feelings were. He’d always known I loved him, but I’d never told him that kind of intense detail. He seemed somewhat touched… I guess. He’d always been incredibly kind to me, but made it very clear that he had no interest in me whatsoever. That was fine with me; to love him was enough and I didn’t expect anything in return.
After we talked a while, he asked me to lie next to him in his bed. I was kind of confused, but figured he was just being nice and maybe just needed to hug someone, as he claimed. We lie like that for a while, and I was ecstatic-he’d never even touched me so much before!
Eventually he was holding me very tightly, and I felt like my mouth was pressed to his shoulder or something. Finally I realized he was just kissing me so hard his mouth was solid against mine. I was so confused, but at the same time, I knew it was wrong. He was obviously just thinking about the girl who’d rejected him who he told me about shortly before. I wanted to say as much, but I literally couldn’t move… and a huge part of me didn’t want to.
Finally I gave in and matched the intensity of the embrace. Still, I didn’t realize how far things would go. Things definitely progressed. He was rubbing my back and sides, and quickly got very hard. I felt so embarrassed and honored to feel that from someone I regarded so highly.
He, very charmingly, got confused by the fake buttons on my nightgown, and I pulled it over my head. I think it was the only moment of my life I wasn’t ashamed or aware of the fact that someone was seeing my body (I’m quite heavy- part of the reason he was never into me).
The way he touched and kissed my body was indescribable. I’ve always been ticklish, but somehow when he touched me it felt tender and perfect. I think he enjoyed my reaction to his attention to my chest (no one had ever done that), and especially to his quick touch between my legs. Part of me was sort of shocked that this “gentleman” was willing to be so sexual with someone he didn’t care about and wasn’t attracted to… but I couldn’t stop myself.
He leaned back, sort of kneeling above me. I must have looked hesitant because he assured me we didn’t need to do anything I didn’t want to. That made me want to even more. Still, though, I was nervous (I had bled so much my first time, and I was hoping it was just because of the violent nature of that act).
After what seemed like an eternity, he was inside me, and leaning into my whole body, kissing me. I couldn’t believe what was happening. It was the most amazing feeling I’d ever experienced. It was so exciting and intense, but at the same time it felt completely natural and sure.
I felt him getting near the edge, and I managed to kiss him deeply and hold him as tightly as possible around the waist when as he climaxed. The feeling of communion, at least on my end, in that moment was the most powerful thing I’ve ever experienced.
When it was over, I was still tingling and happy and confused. I was sort of on my side towards him (this was a twin bed), but tried not to “cling” and be annoying, no matter how I felt. He asked if I had any regrets, and that’s when I realized I had been right to be hesitant: obviously my answer was no, but when he answered the same, it was a very obvious lie.
The rest of my visit he grew colder and more distant, and while he slept with me a few more times it was very perfunctory. He wouldn’t even kiss me goodbye…on the cheek.
He eventually stopped talking to me for about a year. When he got back in touch he said he wanted to fix everything, but got hella pissed any time I tried to talk to him.
At one point things seemed better and he even said he wanted to visit, but when I tried to plan it he hung up on me and ignored me. Then he told me never to speak to him again.
I often wonder if I would trade the physical experience if I could still have his friendship, and the answer is a resounding yes. The memory is sweet and happy, but losing the person I love most in the world for reasons I don’t even understand is beyond devastating.
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