DEBUTANTE
"I want you to take my virginity tonight." Fiona startled me.
She kissed me, before adding in a low whisper, "At least, I think so."
We were standing on the terrace of a downtown hotel, briefly escaping from a business party neither of us had much interest in attending. I peered into her eyes, smiling.
"Isn't it a little late for that?" I asked.
She lowered her eyes, pretending embarrassment. "Well, we've done everything, except..." Her voice trailed off.
"That." Her final word was soft but emphatic.
"We've been naked in the backseat of your car enough. And you seemed interested then."
I now recognized Fiona riffing on an old memory she shared once during our lovemaking.
"Of course, if you are not interested." She started to move away from me. I pulled her back.
Fiona and I have been married for more than 25 years and we have shared a vivid sex life. She is sensual, loud and often aggressive in bed. Early in our marriage, role playing had been an important part of exploring each other's sexuality. More than once, we had acted out some episode from Fiona's past-- or my own.
Whether it was posing nude for me or offering herself to me on her parents' kitchen table one evening while we were house sitting, she subtly made it known that she had been in the same situation with another man. Far from threatening, it only made me fuck her harder.
One night, riding for the first time in a new car, she suddenly stripped off her clothes and ordered me to stop in a secluded place. After screwing me senseless in a grove of a willow trees, she took me home for an extended, gentle session of lovemaking. As we nestled into bed, she whispered, "I never want you to be jealous of any other man that I have been with."
She used the same tone of voice tonight.
"I rented a room so that I wouldn't have to drive home after this damned debutante party. One of my friends couldn't come. The other took off with her date an hour ago, so I have the room to myself and no one is expecting me home."
I stared at her wordlessly as she curled into my arms again.
"If we do this," she asked tentatively, "Will you be gentle with me?"
I kissed her full on the mouth. Gently.
"Of course, baby," I said, slipping into character. "But we have to wait. It's only nine o'clock and people will miss us if we slip off now."
Fiona clung to me. Finally, she whispered, "Good. I need to work up my nerve, anyway. I am still not sure that I want to do this."
We returned to the party and were soon standing in separate conversations. Each time I glimpsed her, Fiona returned my stare, smiling shyly.
Standing in a drink line, I had a moment to think about tonight's proposition. Fiona had been acting out of character lately. On a trip last fall, she had rebuffed me when I began one of our frank word games that was often a prelude to intense sex.
"Sometimes, I don't want to be just fucked, you know," she had said that night
"I'm sorry?"
"I said, sometimes I want more than just
fucking
." She emphasized the final word.
I had replied tentatively. "But that's not our history. Or our vocabulary. Besides, aren't you the one who screams to be
fucked
? Didn't you used to tell me that usually a girl just wants to be
fucked
?" I returned the emphasis.
She had pulled away from me that night. "Yes. I said those things but I am a woman. That gives me a right to be inconsistent." We ended the night miffed, sleeping in separate beds, with me feeling rejected and embarrassed at the sudden rule change.
I made a point after that to romance Fiona, including a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary trip that indulged her with an afternoon massage and a long dinner. Afterwards we simply went to bed and held each other, waking in the middle to the night to make slow quiet love.
Recalling those events, it was easier to put tonight's events into perspective. I would need to be careful tonight, but at least I understood her motivation, even though I knew that she had not given up her virginity in a hotel room following a deb party.
Gentle it would be. For that matter, she might even stop short of making love. Sometimes she was hard to predict.
I returned to the party, quickly located Fiona again and resumed our flirting eye contact.
At ten o'clock, I pointed to my watch and nodded toward the door. She shook her head slightly and returned to her conversation. Sometimes, she could be cruel.
Half an hour later, she crept up behind me, grabbing my arm.
"Take me upstairs," she said simply.
We were alone in the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, I pulled Fiona into my arms, kissing her softly, concentrating on her neck and shoulders. She responded with a sigh, grinding her lap into my quite obvious erection.
In the room, Fiona led me to a sofa and sat on my lap, showering me with kisses. Her angle denied me access to any of her interesting parts, so I surrendered and simply enjoyed kissing her.
For the most part, we didn't speak. After a while, Fiona asked. "Have you ever made love before?"
Unbelievably, my face burned in embarrassment. I was speechless, wondering exactly how she wanted me to respond. In the end, I opted for innocence.
"Not unless rubbing up against you in the back seat and shooting my cum all over your stomach counts."
Fiona laughed.
"Right after I turned eighteen, I thought I was ready, but I couldn't."
She kissed me again.