Every female envisions her first time a million times over in her mind until eventually finding out that it does not occur like it does in the movies: soft, romantic dim lighting, mellow guitar and/or piano playing in the background, a beautiful boy with whom you’re madly in love with, and most importantly, it rarely occurs sober. What we don’t know however, is how males envision their first time... is it the same? Or do they picture the loss of their virginity as a hard-core pornography scene featuring Kim Kardasian and Ray J? The popping of ones cherry has become such a poignant moment in a woman’s life but enigmatic in a male’s. The taboo of taking a girl’s virginity is an achievement which is rewarded with high-fives and “pound-it’s.” But how is a girl rewarded when she takes a boy’s vcard? I too, was rewarded with high-fives, “pound-it’s” and filled with joy and pride on the night where I popped a boy’s cherry.
It was the 4th of July, a night filled with red, white, and blue festivities and mike’s hard lemonade. After a long day and an even longer night of drinking, a select group of us headed back to an unsupervised trailer. I had had my eye on a certain boy all night and I knew I had it in the bag when he had used the “yawn-move” and put his arm around me. Once the small get-together began to die down, I noticed that he had gotten up and surreptitiously whispered something into the house-owner’s ear. When he nodded his head and handed him his wallet, I knew exactly what was about to go down. He then smoothly motioned me over and I followed him into the bedroom. I had of course played this out in my head the entire night: once we got into the bedroom with him leading the way, I immediately shut the door and flicked off the lights. The street lights from outside gave the room a dim yellow lighting; just enough to make out the silhouette of his now nude body. I then boldly pushed him down on the bed and straddled him, feeling his erect member under me. As the intense make-out session began, I smoothly untied my 4th of July themed dress as well as my white lacey push-up bra. His jaw practically unhinged at the sight of my B cup breasts, which I would normally be self-conscious of but due to the amount of alcohol pulsing through my veins, I felt like Pamela Anderson. After a few short minutes of awkward foreplay I asked him if he had a condom and of course I already knew the answer to that. Nervously, he reached his slender boyish hands to the nightstand, grabbed the wallet and pulled out a turquoise Trojan condom. From his maneuvering of the condom, I could tell that he had done this many times before. I laid down on the bed; he followed and held himself on top of me, in the classic missionary style. And from the moment he entered me until the moment where he collapsed into me, I really did feel like I was in the Kim Kardasian/Ray J porno.
When the deed was done and we were both dressed, we walked out into a room full of surprised faces. He walked away to the bathroom and when I sat down I was congratulated with high fives, confused but going along with it, I reciprocated the action. Finally my questions were answered; one of the guys had pulled me aside and said “You just took his virginity...” An involuntary grin crept upon my face as I realized that I had just achieved a great, great thing. The best part was knowing that for the rest of his life when he thinks about his first time, my face will pop into his head. When he gives his children the birds and the bees schpiel, he will think of me.
