I lost my virginity at seventeen, sort of a going away present to my boyfriend who had gotten that letter from Uncle Sam. Twenty-five years ago it seemed romantic to have a last night together and to do more than our usual kissing and petting. I thought I had wanted it, I thought I had wanted to give him a gift of myself.

We couldn't really go steady the way our parents had, but still, Chuck was my guy. I liked the way he looked at me, laughed at my silly jokes, complimented me just when I felt lowest and always knew what I wanted before I had to tell him. The thought of him going into the Army, maybe going to Vietnam and getting killed made me ache inside.

Part of it might have been that I knew I would never have to go.

I had the idea and I acted on it. We agreed to go see some movie, I forget what. My older sister was away at college so I raided her closet and dressed in the sexiest clothes I could find, a tight green mini-skirt, an eggshell blouse, green heels. I didn't wear pantyhose, the night was warm and my legs were summer-smooth. I took an hour doing my face. I borrowed some of my mother's perfume and a pair of her clip-on earrings. My ears were not pierced back then. I borrowed another piece of jewelry which I did not wear yet.

By the time Chuck came to pick me up, I had worked myself into a state of excitement just short of terror. My parents were out of the house for the evening or I would never have been able to do this. Maybe my usual mood was hyper but tonight I really felt like losing it. My mind, I mean.

* * *

I met Chuck at the door. "Andi?" he exclaimed. I always imagined him spelling it like that.

He looked hot; tall, blond and athletic. I felt more than a little lucky that he seemed so easy to be with me because I thought of myself as below average in the looks department. Skinny, gawky, bad skin, all the usual teen-age insecurities, but I knew I looked my best tonight. I thought I felt ready for what I intended to do.

Chuck and I spent a little time in the shadows of my family's front porch, talking. I tried to explain how I felt, why I was doing this, but I don't remember what I said. Finally, Chuck held me close to him and I rested my head on his chest.

I remember that I liked to hear Chuck say my name. Nobody calls me "Andi" anymore, my name is Andrea now. But back in high school, I hated my name and practiced writing my signature as "Andi Helfiger" with little hearts over both i's. I wanted to change the last name, too. I thought "Chuck and Andi Prentiss" sounded great.

We finally left the shelter of the porch, I knew I had to be home before midnight, before my parents could find out what I'd been up to. Chuck's '64 Chrysler loomed at the curb. The backseat of that monster had been the scene of a lot of our teenage experimentation but I wanted something different, something more. I wanted to give Chuck more than a handjob and a hickey, I wanted a bed and a place to take a bath afterwards.

* * *

Some of the girls I knew had told me about having sex in places like under the bleachers or on a kitchen table. I didn't want anything like that to happen for my first time. I wanted romance and comfort and a beautiful memory. "Forget the movie, Chuck. Let's find a motel," I said. So much for romance.

My voice surprised even me and Chuck almost came unglued. "Are you serious?" he wanted to know. He seemed dazed and confused by it all, overwhelmed.

I showed him the wedding ring set I had borrowed from my mother's jewelry box. She never wore them because of all the weight she had gained. I slipped on the engagement ring and the wedding band. The earrings were already pinching my lobes. I said, "We'll tell the clerk we're married if he asks." Saying "we're married" sent a peculiar thrill through me.

Chuck laughed. "We just might get away with it," he said as if he still couldn't believe what was happening.

* * *

Lying to the clerk turned out to be unnecessary, I just waited in the car while Chuck got us a room. I thought I would always remember the name of the motel but I find that I have forgotten.

Chuck carried me across the threshold and I giggled like a bride. The clip-on earrings made my head hurt and I took them off as soon as Chuck put me down on the bed. I left the wedding rings on, though. "You sure you want to do this?" Chuck asked again.

"Sure." I nodded. My heart beat fast against my chest. I began unbuttoning my top. Chuck seemed about to say something, changed his mind and sat on the bed beside me.

"Let's take it slow. That way you can change your mind if you get scared or something," Chuck said. "Or I can," he added, grinning.

He took my hands to stop me from what I was doing then he hesitated a long time before he bent to kiss me. I tasted the slightly sweet, waxy flavor of my colorless lipstick on his tongue.

"Don't you want me to do this?" I asked when we broke the kiss. I had put my arms around his neck and now I turned my head to rest it on his chest. He patted my hair, my back, then let his hand rest in the hollow where my ass began. I felt a little chill then a warmth kindled somewhere inside me. I knew that heat but had always resisted yielding to it.

"Sure, I do, baby. Yeah. I mean..." his voice caught in his throat. "I'm just having a bit of trouble adjusting to the idea and... well, we won't unless you really want to." He tipped my head back with a finger under my chin and smiled at me. Then we kissed again. I used one hand to fumble at his belt while we kissed.

"I really want to," I murmured into his open mouth when we paused for air. "I want to give you something before you go away. Y'know." I didn't want to say he might not be coming back.

"Uh-huh. Just so you don't..." I kissed him to keep him from talking anymore.

* * *

We undressed each other quietly with only nervous murmurs. We dropped our clothes on the floor, if felt deliciously wicked to slither out of the skirt with him watching me. For tonight, we're married, I reminded myself.

We touched all over, with our hands, our mouths. We made slow, uncertain, inexperienced love. It hurt a little, when he entered me, but not too much, I was a virgin but Chuck had done this before and knew how to be gentle.

* * *

After the first time, I lay in his arms, thinking. "I'll never be a virgin again." I wanted to cry a little but somehow tears did not come. He kissed me because he knew that I felt upset. I kissed back, wishing I had enjoyed my first time a little more. The petting we had done before had actually been better.

Sometimes, after a long session of petting and kissing with Chuck I had lain in my own bed, alone, but squeezing my thighs together as if Chuck were there. Once or twice I had even come that way. I wanted to try it again, I wanted it to be better. I wanted a good memory.

He kissed my lips, my neck, my shoulders, my nipples, my fingers. "You didn't come, did you, baby? Let me help." I knew what he meant. He had offered to go down on me before and I had resisted. That had always felt wrong before.

But I wasn't a virgin anymore, I'd never be a virgin again.

* * *

"Please," I said. I remember his mouth tasting me, teasing me with his tongue, his lips. Licking, probing, while he played with my ass at the same time, Chuck looked up into my eyes. I shivered, the tears I couldn't find before filled my eyes as I came, finally. I moaned a little, trying to be quiet, remembering that we were in a motel.

I came, shuddering and he murmurred his appreciation, tasting me. It still felt wrong but I can't say it didn't feel good.

He held me again for a while. I wiped my tears away then we took a shower together. I gave him a blowjob there in the shower stall with water pouring off my back and Chuck almost ripping the towel bar from the wall.

I felt good. I clenched my left hand, feeling the wedding set on my third finger. This is a good memory, I thought, this is how I wanted my first time to be.

* * *

When we came out to dry off he told me he'd been lying about the letter from the draft board. He'd only been ordered to report for a physical and in fact, he nevr did get drafted.

* * *

Lord, lord, lord. Twenty-five years later, my sex change surgery and several relationships behind me, a career in public relations, and okay, I can laugh now. I've had better sex since then, but I've never had a sweeter bridegroom and I don't think I ever made a prettier bride.

---

Originally posted on BCTS 2005-01-24

Copyright 1998, 2002 by Morgan Preece