Virgins.

Inspired by a recent conversation:

I want to be a virgin again. Not truly like the first time, though.

The first time, he was my boyfriend of a few months in high school. He wasn't a virgin. Italian type. I liked the idea of sex more than doing it and enjoyed it that way. Physically, it sure hurt. He was adequately kind, patient, slow. But still a teenager himself, so not particularly skilled or thoughtful.

I'd love to go through it again. Wouldn't it be fun, with someone who knew everything? I'd like to meet him at a bar, as we often do, and have a little date. I'd wear something demure but cute, kind of a high-schooler's idea of dressed up. That is, the kind of high-schooler I was: brainy dorky cute type. Not the slutty look of High School 2006.

I'd play a little shy. He'd know tonight would be the night the virgin would let him, finally. He'd play it excited but respectful. Even just sitting there, he would tenderly touch my hair or my arm.

When we were finally alone, we'd begin to make out, rolling around in our clothes. Grinding against each other like kids. Undressing wouldn't be the big deal until we were both down to our underwear. I'd be excited but hesitant. Curious but certainly unpracticed. I'd be enboldened by desire but still shy. I'd touch and look at him with wonder, as though I hadn't seen it many times before. I would be interested in taking his cock in my mouth, but uncertain how. He'd have to talk me through it. Maybe he'd come too quickly like a boy and we'd have to start over. Probably not. He'd push me back on the bed and slide his face down between my legs. I'd protest, feeling modest. He'd come back up to my face to kiss and reassure me. I'd try to relax, as he asked. He begins to slowly lick me and I'm breathless with the surprise of it. He won't do it for long; he doesn't want to overdo it this first time, for me to get too sensitive.

Finally his face is in front of mine. He's on top of me. He kisses my face, my eyes, my mouth, and asks again if I'm sure this is what I want. Am I ready? I nod yes. He doesn't move his eyes away from mine as he pushes my legs apart with his knees. Very slowly he touches his penis to me and slides up and down. I open my mouth to breathe heavier. I can feel the tip of him push gently against my pussy, then more insistently. He won't enter me quickly. Centimeter by centimeter he eases in. I feel myself relax and take him. He pauses and asks if I'm ok. I nod yes. Slowly he draws back out and pushes back in. Very, very slowly. I'm not responding yet, still getting used to it. Sure you're ok? he asks. Yes, I say, keep going. I begin to warm up. I push a little against him. I can feel his building excitement. I reach up to push my hands against the headboard to brace myself. He smiles and moves a little more fluidly, in and out. His breathing quickens. Now I let go of my virginal reserve and truly start to whorishly fuck him back, right there with him. Slow, grinding, deep. I grin and grip his ass. He asks if it's good. I nod yes. When he strokes himself in and out of me quicker and lighter, I feel the orgasm build. He's tagging all my good spots over and over. I feel myself shudder and gasp with it. Don't stop, I tell him. He won't. He's close, I think, by the intense concentration, almost wincing look on his face. We're there together, bucking against each other as we come. I feel my scalp tingle and a current zaps from head to toe, fingertip to fingertip. He collapses on me and pauses. We're frozen for a moment this way, overcome. He raises his head and kisses me lightly all over my face. 'Thank you', he says. 'Thank you. I'm so glad. I'm so grateful.'

So am I.