First Time For Everything
by Mary Borsellino 

I lost my virginity on New Year’s Eve, 1999. It’s very likely that I’m far from the only person who can claim this. Everyone was a little crazy that night. I think some people thought it was the end of the world, or maybe they just wished it was.

I was eighteen years old, fresh out of high school, and I’d never been kissed. All through my junior and senior year, I’d harboured a desperate, profound crush on my best male friend, Andrew. He’d come over to my house in the mornings before school and play video games with my little brother.

I’d watch his hands, wrapped around the joystick on the game controller. It sounds absurd in hindsight, but eighteen is still a teenager, and my hormones were going wild. Watching his long, clever fingers cradle the slick black plastic of the controller’s shaft was enough to leave me flushed and distracted all through my morning classes, the dark navy panties of my school uniform soaked damp.

Sometimes, if I could convince a teacher to let me out before the bell, I’d escape to the girls’ bathroom and masturbate in one of the stalls. I’d bite my lip and rub furiously at that wet, uncomfortable cotton, my breath panting as I silently imagined Andrew’s slim, clever face and beautiful hands. It never felt like a relief, though. Nothing did.

I was an undersexed mess, and Andrew was none the wiser. He had girlfriends from time to time, but never seemed as interested in them as he was in me. The trouble was, it seemed like all he wanted from me was friendship. Honestly, I have no idea why he even wanted that; I was a babbling, silly idiot when he was nearby.

So there we were, on New Year’s Eve, walking up the high hill near our friend Justine’s house toward the local liquor store. It was after ten already, and our party had been going full swing for hours. All the drinks were used up, so we’d been sent out for more.

‘What’s your most embarrassing confession?’ he asked, for no particular reason.

I’d already had two vodkas, and the words slipped out before I could stop them. ‘I’m a virgin. I’ve never even been kissed.’

He stopped, and turned around. His eyes glittered in the low light of the streetlamps. His breath, beer-bitter, was hot and damp on the air between us in the second before his lips touched mine.

‘You?’ he murmured, a little slurred from his own drinks. ‘Never been…’

My first kiss. A warm, heavy press of his mouth on mine, closed and almost chaste.

Then he grinned, stepped back, and started striding up the hill again.

‘Now you have!’ he called back to me. ‘Hurry up!’

I brought my fingertips to my tingling lips, and ran after him.

My second kiss was five minutes later, on the walk back down the hill, two wine bottles clinking in a plastic bag against my thigh as I pulled Andrew’s face to mine with a hand twined in his hair. Our mouths opened against each other. It felt like a part of me was melting.

Back at Justine’s house, we gave our hostess the drinks we’d bought and then, our fingers laced together and laughter zipping in the air between us, we crept down the hallway to the unused guest bedroom.

‘You’ll miss the best parts!’ someone called after us, but as far as I could tell that’s exactly what I was finally going to find.

The sheets were a plain rose cotton, a dull delicate colour. I shoved Andrew down onto the mattress, preferring the wild flush of his cheeks to the fabric’s shade.

I could feel his pulse on my tongue when I sucked at his neck, my thighs straddling his lap, and it made me wonder if I’d be able to follow his heartbeat while I sucked his cock later, when we had our energy back.

His hands were behind me, unhooking the catches of my bra. Those clever fingers had done this before, with the bras of other girls, but I didn’t feel inexperienced or stupid compared to him. It was like my body knew exactly what it wanted, and how to get it.

I stood up, glad that I’d worn a skirt to the party. My breasts, heavy in their unhooked bra, swung forward as I bent down a little to slip my underwear off my hips. Andrew seemed transfixed by the sight of my shifting cleavage, so I leaned forward and bent lower. He could see my nipples now, peeking out of the slipping tops of the bra cups; hard as bone and aching to be touched.

‘Please,’ I begged, not knowing how else to ask. Half an hour before I hadn’t even known what kissing was like, and now I needed his mouth more than anything. He cradled one of my breasts like a full, weighty piece of ripe fruit in his palm, the callus of his thumb tracing lightly over the pebbled pink of the areola. I pressed in closer, urging his face towards my breast. The flat, thin edge of his teeth grazed the nipple, barely a touch, and I felt so wet and open and ready for him that I think I moaned aloud.

I had to step away. It felt too good. I was going to fly apart, like a puzzle dropped off the edge of a table, pieces in all directions. I couldn’t cope with something that good, not unless I had something solid to grasp and ride through it.

I pulled my shirt and useless bra over my head, and kicked my panties away. Still dressed in my awkward first pair of high heels and knee-length charcoal pantyhose, my black skirt sticking to my sweaty thighs, I reached into Andrew’s pocket and felt around until I found the crinkling packet of a condom. I knew he’d have one. I knew everything about him. He was my best friend.

He unzipped his jeans and shoved them down off his hips. Skinny, pale hips – Andrew was the kind of boy who loved computers, not football. His knuckles were white against the mattress as I rolled the condom down onto his thick, blood-full cock, and he made a choked, whimpering sound in the back of his throat.

‘Shh,’ I soothed, touching his face, even though I was the virgin of the pair. I moved my hand up and down over the delicate-looking latex of the sheath, marvelling that something so thin and weightless could offer such protection, such security. It was flavourless, and tasted faintly like party balloons when I lathed my tongue up the length experimentally. Andrew’s heart was racing. His pulse felt like the wings of a tiny, frantic bird. I wanted to keep tasting and exploring, but knew he couldn’t last through it to my own pleasure if I tried. Experienced he might have been, but he was still a teenage boy.

It hurt as I sank down onto him, a dull stretching ache that wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. I needed him too much. I wanted him too much. Nothing could hurt me.

‘Oh,’ was all he said. We were both too overwhelmed for dirty talk or even for each other’s names. I rocked up, experimentally, letting him almost slip free as I clenched my muscles and held him in. The push back down made the length of his cock stroke the upper wall of my cunt, and I felt a wave of amazing sensation shudder through me.

The G spot, I remember thinking to myself. That’s called the G spot. It made me wonder what other magnificent buttons my body might have that I didn’t know about.

‘Squeeze my tits,’ I managed, raking my nails against his arm. He cupped them, shoved them, pinched the nipples hard. I’d never thought to treat myself so roughly. It felt like nothing on earth. I began to understand why people claimed to see God when they were having sex. Every nerve ending in me seemed tuned to some divine channel. Andrew rolled my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, quick and sharp, and I screamed with pleasure.

‘I’m not gonna last,’ he warned me, but I wasn’t either so I didn’t care. We stared at each other, too trapped in the feelings passing between us even to do something as simple as kissing. Then we fell off the edge of the world and into climax, him first and me following after. I wondered if someone could really have an orgasm that strong on their first time, but at the same time I knew it couldn’t have been anything else. It was like champagne. It was like… fireworks.

‘Hey,’ I said, still sitting on his lap, still feeling aftershocks through my body like lightning. He was still inside me, and I didn’t want to ever be without that fullness again. ‘Hey,’ I repeated, glancing out the window at the empty night sky outside. No fireworks split the black out there. They were all inside me, and my new lover. ‘Look. It’s not even midnight yet.’