Monday, April 05, 2004
A Beginning...
I was scared, but excited. I knew full well what was going to happen in the secluded mobile home up in Frazier Park, held no illusions that it was just going to be a friendly little weekend spent out of town. From the moment I agreed to go away with him, standing in the restaurant parking lot, his burly body pressing mine against my car, his big hands running up and down my sides, taking my chin in his strong fingers, I knew what lie in store for me, for us. And though I was incredibly nervous, I was also counting on it. I couldn't say that I loved him at that time, having been dating him for only a couple of weeks, but I knew he was just the man to usher me into an new age. I'd made out with men in the past, had gone pretty far, with him and with others, but I had never been ready before. I thought I was ready now. It was definitely time. After all, I was 23 years old.
We put down our bags in the bedroom and he showed me around this mobile home that belonged to his mother and grandparents. I suspected that I wasn't the first woman he'd brought here, and probably wouldn't be the last, though I didn't foresee the off and on relationship we would engage in over the next 1 1/2 years. The mobile home was far more spacious on the inside than I would have guessed, the square footage easily on par with some of the homes I'd lived in before. But the bedroom gave me pause, knowing that it would be the scene of a momentous event by the end of the day, and my excitement and nervousness racheted up a few notches.
We kissed, then he made me dinner, though these days I can't remember what it was. Afterwards we sat in the living room, Spaceballs playing in the VCR. We started to watch it, but our attentions soon turned to one another as hands caressed and tongues tasted and lips explored. All thoughts of Mel Brooks evaporated. All thoughts evaporated, period.
My shirt gone, his face lie nestled in my breasts, his mustache lightly tickled as his mouth moved over the pale, delicate skin above my lacy bra and his hands drfited down my ass and thighs, driving my young, supple body to new heights of desire. Suddenly a voice intruded into our passionate haze. A horrible loud nasally voice.
"Virgin alert! Virgin alert!"
Our heads snapped up abruptly and we stared at the TV, disoriented. We realized the g-dawful sound belonged to Joan Rivers, who voiced the role of Dot Matrix in the movie we'd long forgotten about. He looked at me and I looked at him, then we burst out laughing at the unbelievable bit of timing. It was a little while before we could get our hysterical laughter under control. Once we did, we turned off the video and resumed our previous preoccupation with each other.
Later, as we lay in bed after several hours of careful love-making, he held me tight, asked if I was all right, told me how honored he was that I chose him to give my virginity to. I told him that I was glad I chose him, happy that he treated my virginity as the gift I thought it to be, but hoped that eventually the actual intercourse part of sex would become less painful. He promised it would and also promised that he would go slowly until I was ready.
We spent the next day and a half eating, watching videos, shopping at the local general store, hiking to a tiny waterfall with the sweetest tasting water, under which kissed and fondled, and more gentle love-making on top of and under the brightly flowered comforter on the queen-sized bed, always careful not to go too fast or too deep as my uninitiated body gradually adjusted to this new experience.
A week or so later, as I sat on the edge of the hood of my Escort in a hidden tiny parking lot late at night and we made love yet again, for the third time after that weekend, and the pain ceased and I was overcome with pure pleasure, I knew that this whole sex thing was definitely something I'd enjoy for a long time. He looked at my face, saw my eyes widen as the realization of pleasure chased away the pain, and smiled broadly.
"Feeling better, Carol?" he asked, almost smugly, as he continued to slowly move inside me, his fingers expertly tapping into my erogenous zones.
Unable to speak, I bit my bottom lip to refrain from moaning loudly with delight and simply nodded.
We put down our bags in the bedroom and he showed me around this mobile home that belonged to his mother and grandparents. I suspected that I wasn't the first woman he'd brought here, and probably wouldn't be the last, though I didn't foresee the off and on relationship we would engage in over the next 1 1/2 years. The mobile home was far more spacious on the inside than I would have guessed, the square footage easily on par with some of the homes I'd lived in before. But the bedroom gave me pause, knowing that it would be the scene of a momentous event by the end of the day, and my excitement and nervousness racheted up a few notches.
We kissed, then he made me dinner, though these days I can't remember what it was. Afterwards we sat in the living room, Spaceballs playing in the VCR. We started to watch it, but our attentions soon turned to one another as hands caressed and tongues tasted and lips explored. All thoughts of Mel Brooks evaporated. All thoughts evaporated, period.
My shirt gone, his face lie nestled in my breasts, his mustache lightly tickled as his mouth moved over the pale, delicate skin above my lacy bra and his hands drfited down my ass and thighs, driving my young, supple body to new heights of desire. Suddenly a voice intruded into our passionate haze. A horrible loud nasally voice.
"Virgin alert! Virgin alert!"
Our heads snapped up abruptly and we stared at the TV, disoriented. We realized the g-dawful sound belonged to Joan Rivers, who voiced the role of Dot Matrix in the movie we'd long forgotten about. He looked at me and I looked at him, then we burst out laughing at the unbelievable bit of timing. It was a little while before we could get our hysterical laughter under control. Once we did, we turned off the video and resumed our previous preoccupation with each other.
Later, as we lay in bed after several hours of careful love-making, he held me tight, asked if I was all right, told me how honored he was that I chose him to give my virginity to. I told him that I was glad I chose him, happy that he treated my virginity as the gift I thought it to be, but hoped that eventually the actual intercourse part of sex would become less painful. He promised it would and also promised that he would go slowly until I was ready.
We spent the next day and a half eating, watching videos, shopping at the local general store, hiking to a tiny waterfall with the sweetest tasting water, under which kissed and fondled, and more gentle love-making on top of and under the brightly flowered comforter on the queen-sized bed, always careful not to go too fast or too deep as my uninitiated body gradually adjusted to this new experience.
A week or so later, as I sat on the edge of the hood of my Escort in a hidden tiny parking lot late at night and we made love yet again, for the third time after that weekend, and the pain ceased and I was overcome with pure pleasure, I knew that this whole sex thing was definitely something I'd enjoy for a long time. He looked at my face, saw my eyes widen as the realization of pleasure chased away the pain, and smiled broadly.
"Feeling better, Carol?" he asked, almost smugly, as he continued to slowly move inside me, his fingers expertly tapping into my erogenous zones.
Unable to speak, I bit my bottom lip to refrain from moaning loudly with delight and simply nodded.
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United States, California, Los Angeles, San Fernando Valley, English, Carol, Female, 36-40.
