Keeping Up with the Jonzee still at the right spot.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

First Time was the Worst Time

I'm now firmly planted in my 30's. Which means that I am at my proverbial "sexual peak". Let my boyfriend tell it, I'm insatiable. Honestly, I could do something sexually related everyday, and not get tired. But see, he's nearly 30 and his peak was going on during college--just like the books in health class said.

Ain't that a bitch.

I have been trying to be empathetic. I'm trying to think back to pre-peak. And the best way to do that was to go back to time number one.


Most of my girls had been lost their virginity by Senior year. I took a lot of pride in the fact that I had not. I hadn't figured out how to master the pressure cooker that dating this one guy had become, but I was managing to avoid the "deflating of the cherry"--though he was pissed every time we ended a make out session. This made much easier by the fact that I had moved to Cleveland and he still lived in NY.

But see, even though I was a virgin, I also had my playa card firmly planted in my wallet. Or at least I thought. Then the summer before college hit. I had yet to give it up to the boyfriend. But I wasn't totally stupid then (maybe a little naive) and I ain't totally stupid now. There is no way in hell that the Center on the basketball team and the Principal's son wasn't getting his loving somewhere else--of course to spare me. LOL.

I appeared to be the attentive, dutiful girlfriend. Sending the love notes and racking up the charges on my grandmother's phone bill with calls back to NY. But by the summer, with the appearance still in tact, my hormones were raging. Plus my pop and I were not getting along and were having a long standing beef about me going to NYU. What better way to give my hormones something to chew on and really piss my pop off than to start kicking it with the the 'ignant wanna be thug, suburban boy from next door. With his tall, lanky, light skinned curly haired, light eyed self (back when light skinned was still in--and for the record it is not making a comeback) Hmmm. Anyhoo.

Much to my father's dismay and my hormone's joy I found someone to keep me occupied. So much so that though I never had a curfew, my Pop tried to institute it the summer before college.

The bad boy next door made it his business to try and take my cherry away. He gave the full court press on giving that thang up. I turned him down---over and over and over again. Sheeeit, I still had a man, and if someone was going to take it, it would be him. Summer wore on. I went away to school. And then that boyfriend of mine screwed up---the girlfriend and the girl on the side met. Game over.

Pissed, I returned home that summer. All of my girls had by now, been lost their virginity. So on my 19th b-day, I said screw it. I called up the boy next door and told him I was finally going to give it up.

And I did. I snuck across the driveway avoiding the heat-sensored lights, and laid my virginity down. After it was done. In my head, I thought, "That's it?" And all summer I kept doing it thinking it would get better. And it simply got worse. It was whack. It was boring. He was a lazy lover.

And I wish I had waited. While I have been fortunate to have a couple of boyfriends who did there thing. It still didn't interest me that much. I was kind of like Ms Celie "I just let him lay on top uh me and do his business." So, I guess I'm making up for lost time at 30.


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