It was perfect, just like I always imagined my first time would be. The timing, the room, the music, the lighting, the position, the guy. Noah was his name. We'd been dating for almost seven months. I know that doesn't seem like such a long time now, but to us, it seemed like forever. I was fifteen and he was my world.
Noah, though he'd been six days short of two years older than me, was a virgin also. I knew that, because of this fact, he'd been teased by his friends. But he never pressured me to have sex. I loved him for that. He did everything possible to make sure that I was ready. And when I told him I was, he did everything in his power to be sure that we were safe. He arranged for us both to get tested for STD's, he had condoms, etc.
In the beginning, probably for the first three months of our relationship, we hadn't even discussed being serious. But the more we talked and the better we got to know each other, the closer we became. Then, in April, he told me that he loved me. I was ecstatic the first time I heard those words. We'd both had a few problems with them in the past, so I knew that if he said them, it was because he meant them. I told him I loved him as well. (Not too, never 'I love you too'. I'd despised those words ever since I'd felt obligated to say them to a string or ex-boyfriends. Ex being the imperative word. They all ended up hurting me, and I ended up with feelings of contempt for everyone of them.)
After that we began to grow closer, more honest. I knew for sure that I loved him and trusted him completely. So I gave him part of me that I'd never shared with anyone before and would not likely ever share again. I told him my secret. One that I had carried with me since around the age of nine. After six years, I was going mad keeping it to myself, and he was the only person that I trusted enough to tell of all that had happened. I thought that my secret made me a horrible person, and I felt he had a right to know exactly who it was he had fallen in love with.
Still he thought I was beautiful. Perfect, he'd said. I was dazed. I thought he'd be disgusted by it. I expected him to look at me from then on and see what happened, rather than seeing his beautiful, perfect, bunny. (Both beautiful and perfect being his words, I didn't believe them for a second.) But he didn't. He still found me beautiful. I was sure more than ever that I loved him.
Our relationship than began to evolve. Sometime in the latter part of May we stayed up most all of two days and talked about not so much other than sex. Not only sex its self, but all things relating to sex. We'd both been thinking about those things, but were still a bit too shy and too afraid to hurt one another to act on them.
Those nights we discussed what we'd be comfortable with, what we'd hoped would happen but hadn't, our age and readiness for said things, etc. Everything we could think of relating to the topic at hand. A memorable conversation for many reasons: it changed our relationship by making it more honest and making us more comfortable with one another, and it concluded in what was probably the most sexual thing we could do over the phone. (As I was grounded and wasn't allowed to go out, so all we had was the phone.)
Finally I was ungrounded and, as time progressed; my dearest cousins, Trinity and Ariel, and I attended a Halo 2 party at Noah's house. There, in his kitchen; also the place of our first kiss, he made the first move. After the game was over we found ourselves in his room. I'll never forget the way he was shaking as he slid his hand into my pants. He said it was because he was so afraid to hurt me. I thought it was the most wonderful thing.
Along with the weeks our relationship progressed. I was decidedly not yet ready for sex, so we would end up engaging in all of the sexual activities we could think of aside from sex its self. We would frolic naked in Trinity's spare bedroom, have wrestling matches that ended up with us on top of one another thrusting so as to tease, or just lay beside each other talking until we fell asleep. We were sweet, romantic, playful and catty enough toward one another to have what, in my opinion, was the perfect relationship.
I fell more in love with each passing day. Noah was perfect, so much more than anything I could have ever hoped for; and he loved me back, really loved me. Every time he told me so I was beside myself with pure girlish glee. (And I, my friends, was in no way a lady who was girly often.) I felt loved, rather than confused, like I had so many times before.
Then, some time in early July, I had began to ponder my readiness for sex. My doubts in the beginning were only of my age and of telling my mother. I began to realize then that I had to live my life. I decided that I shouldn't let others opinions on my age be a factor in my decision. And upon seeing how Noah's mother reacted to the thought of him having sex I decided that my mother would understand if I told her about my choice.
I was without doubts by the middle of July. That was when I told Noah of my decision. Although he was excited at the prospect of having sex he didn't let that cloud his judgement. He asked me time and time again over the next week or so if I was sure that I was ready. I told him yes. Then, on July 26 I went to his house to have dinner with him. My first time being there without the accompaniment of Trinity or Ariel.
We put on a movie but payed no attention to it. We spent most of our time there talking and kissing. Then, after thirty or so minuets, we decided that it was time. Before anything happened he went into his living room and told his mother, the only one there other than us and his little sister who was of the mear age of two, that he wanted a little bit of privacy. He came back and we began kissing again. We hadn't ever kissed each other as hungrily as we had that night. And soon enough we progressed to undressing each other.
Now entirely without clothes I retrieved a condom while he put on a Death Cab for Cutie cd and repeated "I'll Follow You Into the Dark". Then we crawled into his bed and pulled the covers over us. Though neither of us knew exactly what we were doing I told him I wanted him to be on top. I slid the condom on him and readied myself. I clutched his sheets as I felt a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. He offered to stop when I told him of said pain, but I urged him to go on.
Soon enough the pain subsided. And then all at once it was over. I felt him slide out of me and we just lay there, holding each other. The summer before my tenth grade year and his twelfth we were no longer virgins.