She Was 17

She was 17 and she was still a virgin. She’d done some nasty things with her boyfriend, but she hadn’t done "the nasty”. She didn’t know herself if she was therefore still a “good” girl or not. It was something she both longed to do and longed to refrain from! Her boyfriend didn’t help much; like any boy he just wanted to do it, period. The only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want to rape her. He needed her full consent. He was a very nice boy, sort of, way down under the skin.

Well, she knew that. She knew he was a hard-dick, too. Boy, did she know that. He wasn’t hesitant about thrusting it at her or unzipping his pants and putting her hand on it. She knew all about it! It wasn’t so very big, but it was bigger than she could imagine inside herself. Would it rip her open?! What was she going to do? She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to go ahead and do it and have it over with, even if it was awful. But how? How would she do it? She’d have to have some privacy to do it.

So she began to plan. Not just for the proper day when Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be at the house for a while, but she planned for towels and things to clean up with if she bled. She planned to have her best sheets and covers off the bed at the time. She even planned what makeup she’d have near the bed in case she cried too much! She felt nervous as hell, but still she wanted to have a plan!

The day it came, her boyfriend was taken by surprise. But he was willing. After all, it was what he thought of all the time! He just wondered if he could perform well. He planned to be forgiving if he could not. He’d never pretended to be a Macho Man, though he was pretty sure he’d love to fuck.

The day she let him have it, he was all for it and so was she! She'd found her mother's spermicidal jelly and had it ready. The boy had brought some condoms, though they hardly expected to need more than one! They were both in a hurry to get to it, to get it over! But damn if he wasn’t too gentle and considerate to break her hymen at first. They kept on like that for a while, being afraid to just shove it the hell in until she grabbed his buttocks and ordered him, “C’mon, shove it!” And he did. And then he did some more. As afraid as he was of hurting her, he knew now it had been done. She was hurt, but she didn’t bleed much. He was embarrassed, but also very full of himself about the success. Neither one had enjoyed it all that much, but they could see how they would. The next time around would be better. Less anxiety, less painful.

“Jesus, this sure was hard!” he grinned at her.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “But not bad.”

“No, not bad!”

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