When I think about Kristen, I remember stunning blonde-white hair, her continuous sex drive and sexual confidence, and the way she approached exams like the Olympics. Kristen was a serious student, an attractive and attentive lover, and a good-- if dull-- person. Our college relationship was my first and her fourth. Even though I was a year older, she appeared to be my senior in all respects.
Kristen picked me out of a crowd at a party and seduced me before I could talk myself out of deserving her. After inviting me to her room on a pretense, her shirt was off within half an hour. I had gotten this far a few times, but not in the first couple of hours of acquaintance. Nor had I experienced stroking and sucking tits that were as beautifully shaped and pleasing. Her nipples soared upward from her medium size breasts, and Kristen moaned in response to every touch—light, rough, squeezing...whatever. Although I didn't know it at the time, she would be the easiest lover I have ever had. No matter how you tried to please her, it worked. Her sexual zone was generous and her needs obvious.
I returned to my room three hours later in a happy, anticipatory state. Perhaps my virginity and I would soon be parted. Within the week I received and gave my first oral sex. She led me to the joy of tonguing my partner to orgasm in a forest of light yellow and exceptionally fine pubic hair. I think back on licking Kristen with delight whenever I see a woman with that sort of unusually blonde mane.
Within two weeks my virginity was blessedly gone. I suspect she knew it was my first time. We never talked about it—that wasn't our type of relationship. It was about as good as I can imagine given the awkwardness of the situation. She put on the condom and softly told me how much she needed my hardness inside her. She made me feel competent, as if I had done her the favor of my sexual gift. I'll always love her for that afternoon. We made dinner together afterward, then fucked again. The second time was even better—more animal-like and intense. Our bodies were getting to knew each other by then, and intercourse was the big frontier I was crossing with her.
Despite our beginning at her direction and charge, it was me who broke it off six months later, just before graduation. Kristen was a conservative Christian and a controlled person in every way except in bed. It amazed me how she compartmentalized her right-wing religious views and her guilt-free sexual pursuit. But when we ventured into politics, life after college, careers or anything else, it was clear that we were careening in opposite directions. We were from the same type of family of origin, but by the end of college I was well on the way to becoming what I became: an urban, left-leaning, agnostic bicycle rider. Kristen never stopped being what we were raised. And she probably has one happy and sexually fulfilled CPA of a husband by now. I hope so anyway.
A REVIVAL OF CHRISTIAN WOMEN
I went to medical school after college. The third year routine was in place when I heard someone behind me in the Saturday morning line at the Daily Grind Cafe, "Jake? You probably don't remember me, but I'm Anna, a friend of Kristen's from Ann Arbor."
"Anna Fuller," I replied. "You had this cool hand-knit red and purple sweater you always wore, you sat three rows behind me in World Music, and you use to date that creep with the big biceps, Chester something...Or, at least I hope it is a used-to date situation," I bit my lip in mock anticipation of being wrong, although I thought that highly unlikely.
"Creep doesn't get half-way to that bad choice. And, hey, I guess you do remember me," Anna said with more than a hint of being flattered. "What brings you to Chicago, other than the giant magnet that draws in about half of us leaving Ann Arbor."
"Medical school. Someone told me that I had messy handwriting and would be a natural at this. I'm in my third..." Just then two of Anna's friends came into the shop, obviously in a pre-arranged meeting of their group.
"Mila and Alyson, this is Jake Lindman. He was the boyfriend of a friend of mine at Ann Arbor." Anna finished introducing us and graciously transitioned to small talk that had all of us feeling comfortable. When things started to wind down, she asked if I wanted to join their group discussion at Alyson's house. "We have a bible study and religion discussion group on Saturday mornings. I know that doesn't sound like much fun, but we talk about lots of stuff. We include strays all the time."
As unexciting as that sounded, I rarely turn down the opportunity to spend time with three pretty, young women. Alyson was stunning—perfect breasts with just visible nipples, narrow waist and flawless, delicate features. She had hints of freckles around her nose. Her legs seemed to start about an inch south of those ideal breasts and slope down forever to her carefully selected and stylish shoes. She could have any straight guy on the north side of Chicago, or any other city.
Anna was pretty in the way that most 23 year old women are pretty. A touch chubby, glowing skin and a winning smile. Anna's looks were all the better paired with her inclusive and warm manner.
But it was for Mila that I said yes to bible study. Alyson was out of my league and I sensed out of my comfort zone, as well. Anna didn't excite me enough to get over that mountainous cross between her huge breasts. And her friendship with Kristen was a cut wire I would rather not reconnect.
Mila, however, was strangely and intensely attractive to me. She was medium height, on the thin side of average and had tiny lumps on her chest; breasts so small that a bra was almost irrelevant. She had wiry arms with a hint of shop-guy muscles. Her ass looked to be about perfect. She had on shorts that showed off her nice legs. Mila's long, brunette hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense pony-tail.
Mila dressed in an eclectic style, with yellow Chucks, jean shorts and a red top with a small graphic in yellow-- a tear drop over an abstract shape. Her glasses were small, East Village sophisticated. Mila had a slightly shy way with an obviously quick wit. Hard to describe, but just an out-there style mixed with rather nerd mannerisms. I really like smart. She seemed bright and curious, on first impression. And how this all fit with post-college bible study I couldn't quite manage yet.
I trailed back and conversed with Anna while Mila's perfect butt preceded us by a few steps. "So, what's the subject of bible study today?," I asked out of curiosity about the proselytizing hell I had agreed to join.
"We just open the bible randomly and read a bit and talk," Anna replied to my delight. That seemed like something Kristen (or my aunts or anyone else back home) would never have had the spontaneity or initiative to experience.
"Sounds like a good program. I have to admit that I have strayed a bit since the time I was dating Kristen," I said, trying to soften the way for at least a marginal amount of my truth to come out during the next hour or so.
"Since Kristen described you as her lovable heathen, I can't imagine you've strayed more in the last couple of years," Anna offered in a teasing and accepting way. "It doesn't matter. We are not quite as devout as Kristen, although- like her- we all have pledged to stay virgins until marriage."
I was speechless-- stunned how much and how well Kristen had hidden herself from her friends. Kristen was about as virginal as the average 35 year old bar waitress. We crossed Clark Street, and we headed up Rousseau to Alyson's apartment. Compared to my dump, we were up five rungs on the income ladder. This beautiful woman had serious money, too.
After settling into meeting mode, Alyson took leadership and opened the bible to a part that included a familiar quote: "Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things. [Philippians 4:8]." I mostly sat silent while these young women shared parts of their lives. They seemed a bit tense with me there, but eventually got more real. Mila was amazing. She was more than just smart, and really introspective. Alyson, predictably, was the least reflective, but well-intentioned. Her remarks basically can be summarized as a Dale Carnegie hymnal. Anna was honest and had an open heart. As the only male, a closet (then) agnostic and the newcomer, I tried to be unobtrusive. Mila called me out.
"Jake, I understand this may not be the easiest setting for you, but what is true, honorable and pure and lovely that you want to dwell on?"
My first instinct was to say, "your nice-looking butt, Mila." I thought of being glib—not appropriate. How about ducking it with banality—no, I wanted Mila to think me not shallow. Maybe I even wanted to be not shallow. So I tried for the best part of the truth that occurred to me at the moment. "I guess I don't believe in being right and pure. I believe in being kind and gentle and respectful to other people and the earth. I mostly believe in being alive and focusing on now. I don't think there is a heaven for believers or a hell for the wicked, so I don't care if I am abstractly good by some standard that makes no sense for the life I can sense."
I thought that would pretty much end the morning for me, but it did the opposite. All three came alive in different ways. Alyson wanted to do battle with my ideas. Anna just wanted to drop off the burden of being good that she had been carrying around like rocks in her pack. Mila wanted to fuck me. I saw it in her eyes as soon as I looked up from talking. And I wanted her to know I wanted her.
We talked for half an hour or so, then Mila steered the conversation toward the direction of sex. "What about nudity? What's wrong with that? Some days I feel so oppressed by this God who has been drilled into me my whole life. I'm 23 and I've never seen a guy naked. I'm not sure that's so good and pure."