Jennifer's story: Tuesday night
"Jen, that would be wonderful," he said to me. I told him that we couldn't make love because 'it's not the right time of the month,' and he completely understood. "Waking up with you last Friday morning was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Well, maybe the second greatest."
"What was the first greatest?" I asked him.
"When you said that you'd marry me, of course!" I couldn't help myself, I just threw myself on Mark and covered his face with kisses, pretty urgent kisses, really. I had to slow myself down, because I knew that if I kept this up, we would wind up making love, my messy period and all, and I caught myself thinking that maybe that wouldn't be all
that
bad. Then another part of me said no, stop, you're not quite ready for that yet. Some of the things Monica had told me about, told me I could do to him, well, maybe . . . .
"Listen, Jen," Mark began, "this is all really new to us, to both of us, but honestly, you can tell me anything, and I won't be shocked or offended. So, you're on your period." Darn, he's being pretty blunt here! "All women have them, and that's part of life. You don't have to be shy or hesitant about stuff like that, because we both know what happens and we've got another sixty years or so of being honest with each other about periods and aches and pains and bruises. If it's too soon for us to make love while you're having your period, fine, I respect that, and I'll
never
push you to do something you're not comfortable doing."
"You're not upset?" I asked him.
"No, of course not, how could I be? I've got the most wonderful woman on the whole block in my apartment, kissing me."
"Just on the block?" I managed to tease him back, because I knew he was teasing me by limiting it to the block.
"Maybe the whole neighborhood?"
"Mark, you have the same sense of humor as your mother."
"Yeah, I know. I've actually toned it down a bit until we got to know each other better, because I'm still learning what the limits of your sense of humor are."
"Until we get to know each other better? We're engaged, and sitting here talking about sex during my period, and you're waiting until we get to know each other better?" Oh, my gosh, I could never have said that a day ago, even an hour ago!
We kind of settled down a bit and read a bit more, because we both had homework assignments. I had my feet back in his lap, and Mark was gently massaging them, when I remembered: I used to see my mom and dad like this. Oh, my God, if we can have a marriage like my parents . . . .
Around ten, I shut my book - Mark was still reading - stood up, and headed for the bathroom; I had to take care of something before bedtime. I had to pee, of course, and clean up, changing my tampon. I'd never used tampons before yesterday, and it felt strange putting one in, but I didn't want to wear a heavy pad to bed with Mark. I debated not wearing my panties, but that would leave this white string hanging down, and I wasn't sure that I wanted Mark to see that. Then I thought, what the heck, Mark was right, we had sixty years of periods and aches and pains to be honest about in front of us. I had to take a deep breath to steel myself for walking out naked with this ugly string hanging down, but I did it.
"Oh, wow, Jennifer, you look so awesome! Let me use the bathroom and brush my teeth, and I'll be right in. Oh, did you notice? I got you a toothbrush and some cream rinse and a hair dryer."
You know what I did? I went right back in the bathroom with Mark, and we were both brushing our teeth together, jammed up against the small sink in his bathroom. It was a bit weird, because I was naked and he was still completely dressed, but, you know, even that seemed natural to me. I did at least leave the room so that he could pee in private.
Mark had put clean sheets on the bed, and had made it for me, which couldn't have been fun in this tiny bedroom. There was no headboard, and one side of the bed, Mark's side as it worked out, was jammed up against the wall. There was just enough room for a small night stand to be wedged between the bed and the other wall. The room had this weird transom window which looked out into the hall, of all things, but it was seven feet up, so no one could see in. There were a couple of feet free at the foot of the bed, and then the strange door into the bathroom. The bathroom had two doors, one into the living room, and one into the bedroom, off of the same corner post. There was no overhead light, but a single wall sconce light near the door. It was a severely plain room, but I had lost my virginity in this tiny bedroom, and so had Mark.
No, I hadn't lost it: I
gave
my virginity to Mark, and he gave his to me. I couldn't help smiling when I thought of it that way.
Mark was naked, gloriously naked, when he crawled into bed and took the side by the wall. I knew he wanted that side, because he liked me on his right, with my head on his shoulder. It was fairly warm, and we wound up kicking the blankets off, and had just a light sheet over us. Mark was caressing my back, and I was kind of idly playing with his chest. His chest isn't really hairy, but there's some, enough to play with, and I think he liked that. The light was off, and the transom window had been painted over for more privacy, but enough light came through from the hall to keep it from being completely dark.
I was just so much in love with this man! He was kind and gentle, but strong, surprisingly strong. He didn't look terribly muscular, more rawboned than anything, but he seemed to do things effortlessly. I remember when he had picked me up once, and carried me across a puddle, just to be a gentleman - and to show off a bit, I think, because we were on campus with a bunch of other people around - and it didn't seem like he was straining himself in the slightest. His touch was gentle, but his hands were still calloused, they were the hands of a man who done physical work.
Mark was playing with my back and my shoulder, and lightly kissing my forehead, when I surprised myself: the thought had never occurred to me before, but I reached further down and took his nipple in my mouth, he moaned for a second, and then whispered my name, lovingly and desperately and pleadingly. There was enough light in the tiny bedroom to see that he was ready for love,
very
ready for love. And I knew, I was ready, too. I hated that I was on my period, but even this tampon couldn't stop me from getting wet, so very wet, and I just couldn't help myself anymore: I reached down, pulled out the tampon, threw it on the floor at he foot of the bed, and moved on top of my wonderful, wonderful man. I know that Mark wasn't expecting this - neither was I, honestly - but I took him in my hand and guided him inside of me.
This was different. The first times we had made love, we'd had to use a condom; now that I was on the pill, there was no barrier in between us, and I was feeling Mark, all of Mark, and I could tell that he was feeling me as well. There was just enough light in the room for me to see his face, to see the look on his face, a look of what I thought must have been ecstasy, a look which must have been love. I don't know if he could see my face or not in the low light, but I know that I was smiling, and that if he could see my eyes, he would see that they were open, and looking at him. I could look at him forever!
Since I was on top, I was controlling everything, and was moving slowly, so very slowly, and I was in absolute heaven. I could feel it building up inside me, a growing heat and a tension and an utter passion that cried out for release, and that release came, washing over me, overcoming me, causing me to cry out. I could see it building in Mark, and now I knew what was coming, and once it overtook me, my eyes closed but I could still hear my lover, and I could feel his urgency, as his hands grabbed my hips, forced himself more deeply inside of me, and had his own release with a roar.
I don't know how long we laid there, with me collapsed on top of Mark, kissing his chest and playing with his hair. I still had my hair in a pony, so it wasn't splayed all over the bed but it was off the left side of my neck, on Mark's shoulder and arm, and he was idly playing with my hair. Finally, Mark just slipped out of me, and I kind of felt a gush, I rolled off to his right side and giggled, "I think we just made a mess."
