My First Time

He said he’d teach. This guy wanted to get inside my pants so bad that he’d be willing to “teach” me. I may have been new to the whole hook-up culture of college, but I had my suspicions. 

This was it, the offer I wouldn’t be able to refuse given my vulnerable, weak-at-the-knees tizzy. He was really cute, so that didn’t help. A guy as handsome as him must have had A LOT of experience. And I had none. And I was embarrassed, scared, and confused. 

I wanted to spend time with him. Get to know him. And if that meant having sex with him, then it was the perfect situation in which to do it without it being awkward. I’d have a mentor, a guide in the strange, mysterious world of sex. Although of course I was hoping he’d compose a more eloquent proposition. 

My expression of harassed wariness didn’t affect him in the slightest. He wanted to do it right then, right there. No time to rationalize the fact that I might loose my virginity in a smelly dorm room at 2 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. 

This would be it. The be-all, end-all of my chastity. The pinnacle of my womanhood. Once this was over and done with, I could finally say that “yes, I am sexually active” at the gynocologist. Then again, it just didn’t seem right. Sex was suppose to be a passionate, tingling feat between two lovers, not a take it or leave it opportunity. 

I had only known him for three days. Why here? Why now? Why not wait? Didn’t he want to get to know me? The concept of casual sex was a blur to me. I was stuck on this fantasy that my first time would be meaningful, not educational.

I just wanted to get it over with. The sooner it was done with the better. Once round two came round, I’d know what to expect. I stared at the ceiling knowing that if I didn’t watch him do it I wouldn’t feel as awkward. The ceiling was white, smooth, and plain. Like me. Except I was the one about to get nailed. 

Sex can be scary and terribly intimidating, especially when it’s your first time. It tests your reproductive capabilities and pokes fun at your insecurities. You’re peeled like a banana, one garment after another removed until your tender flesh is completely exposed. All your flaws and vulnerabilities are laid out on a platter and served to a hungry beast.