So I had reached one of the dreams in my heart, and made it reality, a part of my memory, and a part of me. We tried several different positions, for we were truly at play with one another. Well, as many as can be allowed in the front seat of a VW Bug, with the doors open. We kissed, and held each other, and she made the sweetest squeaks from time to time. I learned later what these were, and I learned so much more. That night was not actually my virginity. Over the next two weeks, Jennifer would teach me, and give me experiences I would never have enough of an opportunity to give to someone else. Even though she only kissed me on my first time, she taught me every way of love she knew. From my own work as a practiced nudie-magazine student, I learned she knew a lot.
One
of the prettiest experiences was at the oldest graveyard in the city. It had an old dock that was about forty feet
from the rear of the graveyard, upstream about a mile from where we were the
first time. I found it when I was a
freshman in high school. After being
flushed by the local bullies, I was driven out there and left with the demand
that I dig up a coffin. They never came
back, and I ended up walking home, something that took me the rest of the
day. In the days that followed, it
became a thinking place I would go to.
Maybe bring my buddies up with me from McDonalds, and we would drink,
and take paper tabs of acid. Later we
would drive out to the rail-yards and wait for trains to pass by. On this particular evening, I was with
her. My lessons continued, but I should
say that it was not a class room technique on love. Because I couldn’t kiss her, the feeling was a little different;
but, I was so bathed in the attention, and the tight-stomached feeling of how
new it all was to me. Nineteen years
old and ten years in to what all this would be like was no match to the moments
themselves. It was just as our
friendship had been, comfortable. If I
made mistakes, she would just tell me.
I would just listen, and try again.
How could I possibly complain about trying it again? We would be gentle, rough, joking, and
laughing. To me, just the very act of being
naked and ourselves was the most fun.
Well, maybe not the most fun, but the best feeling.
On
the last night before her boyfriend was to return home, we did not sleep
together. We ended up at the rocks, a
place on a large lake that kept the tide from hammering the boating docks. It was made from huge pieces of old highways
demolished in large sections of twenty feet at least. It was a large shaped “L” that you could climb out to the very
edges. My final memory of losing my
virginity is laying on one large, fifty-foot piece of what must have once
supported a very tall bridge, with my head in Jennifer’s lap. As the moon continued to ride, and our
conversation began to move of into the certain amount of confusion in leaving
high school and starting life, she did something I still puzzle about to this
day. She unbuttoned her shirt, leaving
her breasts just inches from my face.
As much as I love Jennifer, her breasts were truly my first love. As she
continued finger-comb my then shoulder length hair, still shaved on the back
and sides, she pulled my head forward and kissed me for what would prove to be
the last time. There was a conversation
going on between our eyes. The most
beautiful of words was her gentle smile.
We didn’t leave, or speak, for the rest of the night. I was certainly not ready to say goodbye.
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