Where it happened: My apartment
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 9
Category: Straight
After New Year’s long, long ago, my girl and I had a hurtful confrontation. Though we had been going together in excess of two years and had graduated from college, she never let me venture below her waist in our dating activities, let alone permitted me to remove garments. She had informed me her father had exacted a promise to abstain until marriage. This was his consideration for supporting her in college, inasmuch as she needed an abortion during her final year of high school. If she loved me as much as she avowed, I felt she could have been more liberal and still have kept her promise. That’s what our conflict was about and I was feeling utterly disconsolate when I returned to school.
She is a very special person and I knew that. My parents reared me not to take a wife until I could support her and my professional degree was still eighteen months away—-but men who are hesitant to commit always find a logical reason. We had discussed marriage and we had a covenant all but accomplished. One unresolved particular, crucial for me, was the question of our unproven physical compatibility. She was outspoken in offering that if I were willing to trust her to be an excellent sex partner, she would solemnly promise to be one—-but we would have to get married first.
The best decision I ever made was to make this leap of faith. I collected my father’s mother’s engagement ring, held in trust for me, the only grandson. My father had his misgivings contending was too young to marry at age 22. Then he insisted I shouldn’t squander an irreplaceable family heirloom to salvage a relationship in distress but I asserted I had tarried too long and demanded my bequest. I sent my ring to my beloved with a letter explaining that it was my grandmother’s who died a month short of her 55th wedding anniversary, followed by my grandfather on the day of their 55th. Could she endure living with me for 55 years? Would she enter into matrimony with me?
She sent two lines on an informal stating that she had important matters to communicate that could only be conveyed in person and to please meet her plane that Friday night. My anxiety level was agonizing, for I reasoned if it were a simple “yes” she would have said so as her journey was too substantial for a mere acceptance. Perhaps it was too late and she wanted to say “no” in person so she could say so gently. On the other hand, investing in such a journey for a relationship that was irretrievable did not seem reasonable. I braced myself to beg forgiveness for whatever hurt she suffered and to meet whatever conditions she might impose. I dressed up in my best suit and purchased red roses.
At the airport, I got my usual public peck on the lips and she immediately requested to be taken to my car after barely acknowledging her flowers. Though she accepted the flowers but was not wearing my ring, I concluded my worst fears were being realized. I put her luggage in the trunk and when I came around to open her door, she had unbuttoned her trench coat and held it open to me. She was wearing a black boudoir bra that concealed nothing, and a black garter belt that supported black nylons. Her state was beyond nakedness. This is the first time I had ever seen a woman’s body in the flesh. The only other nude female I had ever seen was my pre-school niece two years before. Both were lovely but this one was bewitchingly so. I stood there motionless, gaping, making no sign of intention to action for nearly a minute, according to her accounting. Therewith, she flipped her coat closed and stated, “I’m freezing. Would you let me into your car, please.” I don’t remember those moments too well. She must have had goose bumps in the January wind but I didn’t notice.
In the car, she gave me her usual deluxe leisurely kisses as she undid my belt and unzipped my fly. Her hands had never been any place improper on me before. I wish I could recall the sensations of my next first ever. All I could recall was frantically looking out, lest other people approach, that it was quickly completed before our being discovered, and, in the aftermath, realizing that her response to my proposal, when we ever did get to conversation, was likely to be favorable. I do remember the taste of our resumed kissing. She purred, “I’m still hungry. Could we get something to eat?” I was so relieved, I took her someplace worthy of the occasion, thinking kindly of the inventor of bank cards. We made mutual apologies and made settlement on our quarrel, a necessary prelude to addressing the salient matter before us.
I could scarcely contain myself at the restaurant. Only I knew that her pondering for a moment whether to check her coat was consummate theater. She slipped off her shoe and tormented me with her toes—-fine restaurants have ample white table cloths to conceal such shenanigans. She smiled and ran her tongue along her lips and it was driving me crazy. She told the waiter, “No dessert, thank you. I will offer him some at home.” She requested a souvenir menu. I found it convenient to carry in front of me as we departed the restaurant.
We still had not discussed my unanswered proposal but because this, in her soliciting this visit and in her initiatives so far, was her disquisition, I needed to forbear disrupting. She later explained that she felt it was time for an evening of action rather than of words and I did well to remain silent.
Upon entering my grad-dorm studio, she advised me that, in her words, she was baby-proofed should I care to share my bed with her. I was all too agreeable and inquired of her what had effected her change of policy. She replied that the grand gesture on my part should be reciprocated. To wit, she had humbly begged release to her father from her promise made years ago. She handed me the box containing my ring, dropped her coat to the floor, and held out the proper finger. She was shivering, covered with goose bumps, and cyanic as a direct result of being disgracefully underdressed in the midst of winter. She was in no state for a ceremony, so I drew a hot bath for her and offered her hot chocolate laced with scotch. As she reclined in the bathtub, we formally pledged our troth as I placed my ring on her finger. She enjoyed her drink enough to have another as I, fully dressed, sat with her, reflecting on my good fortune.
Failing to dress for the weather or overwhelming a callow beau are mere miscalculations that in no way diminish my admiration for her intentions, but beholding my lady as she bathed, toweling her, and unhurriedly applying powder over her as she lay on my bed are the sensory pleasures I will cherish for a lifetime.
We didn’t celebrate our pact until the next morning because Milady fell asleep on me in the moment it took for me to disrobe. Over breakfast, she reported her calculation that 55 years is 20,000 days more or less. She pledged to be my Scheharazade, not of 1001 nights, but of 20,001 nights. I think my grandmother could have sanctioned this bargain with her ring. To my parents, I announced the mere fact of my engagement. The “first time” is indeed one of life’s thresholds.
She has been my Scheharazade for more than fifteen years. Her private jest is that I rejected her for being a “frigid woman” when she first offered herself to me. To the contrary, she has been everything I dreamed about and longed for, but more. To this day, new surprises are conferred on me without necessarily respecting location or time of day—-notwithstanding the blatant constraints, of course. Such variety in one woman can only be a result of her loving, lascivious scheming when we are apart. We are in our later thirties and we share favors generally more than seven times a week. She assures me that she takes delight in my delight, try as I do to reciprocate. She honors her promise to me as faithfully as she honored her promise to her father.
There is nothing I won’t do for her. My colleagues scoff that when she says “jump”, I am already on the way up when I ask “How high?” I acknowledge I am her servant and am indifferent to being regarded as some sort of sap. My commitments to her are no burden and satisfying her every desire is my precious privilege.
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