This story involves the event I had been waiting for since the day Jack left for the summer was past. It happened my senior year in college and I had just given the gift of my virginity to someone special. His name is Tucker and, today, we've been married for two years.
"How is it," you may well ask, "that a college coed, 20 years old, with no physical or mental handicaps, could still be a virgin? Especially one that was five feet, 4 inches, weighed 115 lbs, had dark brown hair and blue eyes, worked out 4 times a week to stay in shape and was a 'beautiful' girl (at least that's what the guys said!)?" Good questions and they deserve answers.
First of all, let me set the stage with a little history. For those who don't want to wait, who want to read only the "good stuff," scroll down about five paragraphs. For the rest of you, here are the answers.
Simply stated, the answers, like most things in life, are a mixture of tragedy and comedy. Sure, I could have found a willing guy in high school to relieve me of the virgin state. The problem was, I didn't see anyone who interested me enough for me to get involved with that way -- until I met Jack. He was the ideal guy, gentle, caring, attentive, honest. We met late in my junior year and hadn't reached the stage of physical or mental intimacy that would allow us to consummate our relationship. Jack left for the summer on an intern program and died as the result of a car crash on his way home. So ended my first real love.
I went into a shell after that, my senior year passing in somewhat of a blur. I didn't date, but threw myself into work at school and in part-time jobs. During that time, I didn't have anything to do guys, still trying to come to terms with the vacuum created in my life by the loose of Jack and the bright future he offered. College followed. I had taken and passed several advanced placement courses, enough to qualify me to enter school as a sophomore. There, I roomed my first year with Samantha, a very forthright, sexually oriented girl. She tried, on several occasions, to get me involved with friends of her current boy friend (the names of which changed quite often!). Slowly, I came out of the shell I had erected around myself, but the guys I was meeting were worse (if at all possible) than the ones I met in high school!
During my junior year, I met Peter. A political activist, Peter was insightful, funny, and had these "soulful" eyes that you could just drown in. That's what drew me to him in the first place. Unfortunately, Peter was also a great believer in women's rights and their "sexual empowerment." We spent endless hours talking about sex and almost no time at all doing anything about sexually empowering ME! I did everything but throw my pussy at him -- all to no avail. The relationship ended when Peter decided to drop out of school and move to Australia so he could work with the aborigines who were "suffering under the lash of the white majority (his words, not mine!)." Let's just say I was "less than enthused" about the prospect of going with him, a concept he found hard to believe. It could also have had it's root in the question I asked him the last time I saw him, "Peter, are you, perhaps, gay?"
Now, Sam and I had through almost two years as roommates and, after Peter, I thought she had given up on me. Late in our junior year, she insisted I come with her to an off-campus party. It's there I met Tucker. He was the most amazing man I had ever met. Standing just over six feet tall, with close cropped blond hair and striking blue eyes, he stood out from the usual college boys like a rose among thistles. I found out that he was 24 (four years older than I was at the time), had just been discharged from the Army, where he served two tours in Afghanistan in Special Forces, and was completing his senior year (having dropped out of college in his junior year to enlist). From that meeting, we started a rather causal relationship -- on again, off again dating that seemed to be leading nowhere. Were we friends or were we a couple? Who knew?
We spent the summer apart as he had commitments to the service still unfulfilled and I had to return home for summer work. I found myself comparing the guys I met to him, with all of them coming up short. I thought about him and began to realize that, if I was serious about him, I needed to let him know. When I returned to campus in the fall, for the start of senior year, there he was on my doorstep. From that moment, I knew -- Tucker was the one. He wasted no time in letting me know that I was never far from his thoughts that summer. OK, now you know as much as you need to about him. Our relationship moved along nicely after this.
He had moved off campus, into an apartment (he couldn't take the room mates they kept foisting off on him) and one evening, after we had gone out for dinner, he asked if I would like to see his place. There was zero privacy in dorm living. I seem to remember the time Sam came bursting into our dorm apartments with her latest boyfriend in tow. Tucker and I were on the couch in the common area, deep into a make out session that had my jeans and panties down around my ankles. I was embarrassed, she laughed it off. Like I told you, Sam is a very sexually liberated girl!
If not for Sam's untimely arrival, I would have lost my virginity that night, so I jumped at the chance to spend some really serious private time alone with Tuck. We got to his place (nice, if a little "modern" for my taste and definitely needing a woman's touch!). It had two bedrooms (one with all of his fitness equipment), a living room, and a large bedroom. We sat on the couch and he poured me a glass of wine. There was soft music playing. I asked him if he was trying to seduce me. He smiled and answered, "Yes!" Just what I wanted to hear!
He led me to the bedroom. Again, soft lights and music playing. He even had candles! This is just what I wanted -- a special setting for my first time. We stood by the side of the bed; our lips locked together, his tongue dueling with mine, each seeking to enter the others mouth. With each breath I took, I felt like I was inhaling his soul and giving him a piece of mine. His hands roamed up and down my back, cupping the cheeks of my ass through the material of my skirt. He picked me up, one arm under my shoulders, the other under my knees, and turned to the bed, placing me gently on the covers.
"Tucker," I said, looking into his face as he stood above me, "I have never been with a guy. You are my first. Please be gentle?"
