Virginal Cherry

I know it may be shocking for those of you who know my writing very personally, but I was once a virgin (insert 'Gasp'). I lost my virginity during the summer after I turned sixteen...sweet sixteen.

For most girls, bargaining their virginity to guys to rally popularity was a high past time where I grew up. I saw it as mostly an immature ploy for attention and a waste of something that I saw as genuinely meaningful. My virginity was about my power and freedom, my dignity.

Sweet like a cherry, sweet and fresh and new...

In my mind sex wasn't a romantic thing really and I didn't expect the heavens to open up, angels to sing and my heart to be filled with rapturous joy - like some girls I know. My mind was very in the books, into my acting, into my singing and into generally being myself and who I wanted to be instead of what guys wanted me to be.

I dated a lot in High School and even had an intensely serious relationship with a 20 year old when I was 15 but when that failed I hit the beach after dark with my friend and was on the prowl for some attention, even if it was just innocent. I needed that post-break up ego pick-up.

After playing pool with some hot English guys at one of the dive restaurants by the beach, my friend Chelsie and I walked to our favorite Italian place on the beach, little tables stretching under a tri-colored canvas canopy. We watched the tourists walking wildly along the sidewalk, and on the other side of the street on the sand and over the rippled wall. A group of ragged guys walked by us and after Chelsie and looked at them giggling. They caught the girl-code and came over, the three of them circling and perching like crows around us.

The night passed to walking around with two of them after the third realized he wouldn't have any entertainment with the equation two to three. We stripped our least needed clothing and plunged into the warm ocean, the waves pulling us together as we nestled onto their necks, their arms strong around us, our legs needy around their hips. He looked at me, James looked at me with a beaming Georgian Southern Gentleman smile, I felt like this was the moment we should kiss...But he didn't know it.

On the beach sitting together, our clothes partially dry and my tiny feet protected by his size 14 flip flops as my knee-length boots lay in the sand by my side. He was so shy and smart and quiet and wanting something from me, his eyes implored me,

You know sometimes I wish I wasn't raised all Southern, because then I could kiss you.

I laughed and felt the pang in my stomach of the new need, of the new tingles, of the James tingles that only he was pulling from me at that moment. I smiled and up through my eyelashes, my face made caramel by the street lights so far from us,

You could always ask, that's gentlemanly.

We laughed, but with a tension, our eyes flitting down and away from each other's glance,

Alright then, may I?

I smiled and nodded and leaning my face towards his and as his lips touched mine our eyes flitted shut, his mouth was soft against mine, sweet against mine. His hand went to my jawline, his face so baby soft, his hand huge and strong, such a contrast. My mind tore when later that night he told me he was taking his last months of freedom; he had signed away his life to the Marine Corp and would be heading to North Carolina for training to later than March the following year....This was November.

We saw the boys, James and his friend Daniel, once more before they went back to Georgia, he took my number that first night and pressed it into his wallet like a sacred keepsake, his hands firm and gentle on the paper. He kissed me for the last time for what would be over six months, his eyes so sparkling blue and soft.
God, Im gonna miss you so much. I gotta come back real soon.

I nodded as we left his truck and headed into my house, his eyes following me until I closed my front door, the lock clicking almost painfully under my hands. I knew what the military did to young guys like James, 19 and with nowhere else to turn for a future and there was a war going on.

It turns out he did miss me, very much and called at least once a week, his voice soft and sad on the line. I wrote to him after he was deployed to boot camp, his letters coming multiple times during the week and telling of how sad all of the other recruits were, their homesickness and even some attempted suicides. I sent him letters in pink envelopes strayed with perfume that his friends would sniff and which would give him hard-on's. Oh how romantic. When finally he has passed through boot camp, he had some leave and had such a deep need to see me, I missed him too.

When I saw him at the airport, he was so joyous to see me, his arms so strong around me, his face buried in my hair as he tried to keep his tears from springing up. After a few days of being together and resuming out very heated past time of making out and pressing tightly together, we found some alone time when my mom left for a couple of days on business. In my room he brought me to an orgasm with his big strong hand that shown stars in my eyes when they pressed closed, ripples of the orgasmic pain shooting through me. My body remained still as death as it felt the aftershocks, my whole form sensitive to the slightest touch.

With the light down soft I found courage to speak softly, looking at his eye as he lay between my legs, holding me tight with his body on mine,

Are you ready? Do you want to?

He didn't need a full speech, he could feel what I felt. He nodded slowly at first and then said "Yes" in a shaky, disbelieving voice. He kissed me deeply before leaving me lying on the bed to find the ever thought of condoms, my nerves were still, my resolve was strong; I wanted this, it was time. I reconciled that it was alright, he loved me....I loved him, he was a virgin, I was a virgin, we fit. I breathed deeply, looking down at my legs as I lay still on the black sheets.

When he came back in, he clicked the door shut and clicked the lock strong before walking to me, his face serious and focused. His military buzz cut made him look tough as his face betrayed his innocence. He laid down with me, my legs wrapping around my hips as he pulled at my tank top. He pulled at the two snaps on my ripped jeans before pulling them off and dropping them softly to the tiled floor. He made haste with his own clothes before taking the time to lay his form against mine, his skin hot and his muscles dense and developed.

My hand stroked his shoulder blade and awakened his mind to the task at hand. In my mind, I imagined the most wonderful place I could imagine and automatically I thought purple, lavender...A lavender field. As he lay between my legs, fumbling with his hard and sheathed cock, I felt the sensation of his hot skin against mine, his hips against my thighs. I didn't expect it when his cock slid into me, I felt a high pitched note of pain and after that, nothing but a raw and sort of painful and pleasurable sensation deep inside.

I saw the lavender field in my mind as he rocked gently against my body, his muscles tense and his hands strong under my hips. I felt the new sensations and wanted it to last forever, to make me feel like crying like this forever. When he came with his cock inside of me, I was amazed, his body softly thrashing against mine. It had lasted probably no longer than a minute or a little more and when he pulled out of me, my whole body seized up, not expecting the theft of such a miraculous filled feeling.

His body was all weight and strength as he lay his head on my breasts, his arms snaked under and around me. I smiled as I fell to sleep, with the thought that only more of this was to come, and it could be so much better too...And for much longer. My body was wracked with things to remember, the heat, the pain, the pleasure, the wetness and the slide of it, the weight. My mind and body felt the weight of the loss of my virginity, it had been the right time, it was perfect.

When I pulled myself up and went to the bathroom, I was sore, my thighs pushing more slight pain into my insides as I walked. I smiled and nearly giggled with joy when I wiped myself and saw a smattering of bright red blood on the tissue. I laughed at the novelty of it, I laughed at my freedom and I laughed for the promise of all that was to come and all that I felt.

Sex wasn't romance, sex was about the moment, and the pleasure and the heat and the connection...And I loved my new found connection....Very much.

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Tagged: virgin sex teen orgasm cock erotica

***I want to wish a great weekend to you all! I may or may not be able to post the new memoir on Monday due to the fact that my boyfriend and I with a bunch of friends are hitting Key West, Florida to celebrate my boyfriend's 25th birthday! Happy Weekend Everyone!***