I knew it would happen at some point, as these things usually do. I always figured it would have happened earlier, but being a late bloomer, this wasn’t much of a surprise.
I’d heard the stories from friends and co-workers, who’d tell of the crazy times that followed their first time. “Always be prepared,” they said. “Have everything ready because when the time comes, you don’t want to run out to the store in the heat of the moment.”
It wasn’t completely innocent. I messed around with Ernesto (I wasn’t ready for any of that) right after I moved here. Irene once kept me up most of the night, but she was gone by lunchtime. Then there was Arthur – he caused lots of drama at work for no reason – and he also met my mom.
My virginity was still in tact. Whenever someone asked me if I was “experienced,” the answer was always no. I was technically still a virgin.
And then Matthew showed up on my doorstep.
I knew I was going all the way with Matthew, there was no turning back. A mixture of excitement and fear combined like cement in my stomach. I could entertain him if he decided to stay a few days, but he was one of those who was gone by daybreak.
He came over after dark. I knew what to expect, I just wasn’t sure how it would feel, how I would react, and worried about what I would do if something went wrong or if my protection failed. And yet, when the big moment arrived, I was entranced. With the lights off, I watched him in the pale glow of the street lamps. It was all happening.
It was quite different from my other experiences. It appeared slow at first. Ha, I thought, this is nothing. And then things picked up and I was amazed at how different it was: the weird way it felt against my naked skin when I stepped into his embrace, the sights and sounds were foreign, and I wondered what would become of all this in the light of day.
Matthew was quite gentle and kind, in all honesty, and I’m glad my first time was like this; I know it’s not always the case. I’ll be forever grateful for his easy touch.
His Category 1 status took out the wax myrtle trees in the front yard, but wax myrtles are notorious for falling over if you sneeze too hard near them. There was no flooding, just a bunch of leaves everywhere, a few brown outs; it was basically a very windy storm without thunder and lightning.
Matthew, my sweet Matthew, did not prepare me for my next admirer: Florence.