Losing Virginity

by Ava Michaels

  Now he was leading me through every fantasy I ever had of him. Jesus Penus. That was beginning to be my phrase for DAAAMMMNNN.

  “So she sputters at this again and says, 'Why Pierre? Why do you do this?' and Pierre responds, 'I'm Pierre, the French Fighter Pilot. With my red meat I like red wine'.”

  I made sure not to laugh this time, knowing that this joke was going to be in the traditional set of three since he already did two.

  “So by this time, she is going out of her mind with lust for Pierre,” he said.

  I was.

  “So she takes off all her clothes and invites him to her and says, 'Pierre, I can wait no longer. Please, give yourself to me'. So Pierre pops a bottle of port and pours it over her crotch and lights it on fire.”

  I arched my eyebrow and looked. Where the fuck was this going? The thought almost made me laugh.

  “She asks the same question of Pierre while batting out the flames. 'Pierre, why did you light my love garden on fire?' He responds to her, 'Why of course, I'm Pierre, the French Fighter Pilot. When I go down, I go down in flames!”

  I shook my head at the absolute silliness of his long, elaborate joke. At least he tried being funny. Most guys that try being funny say something to you but it is just mean. But Big Stick? He just tells jokes. I’ve always loved jokes ever since my grandpa started telling me them. Big Stick’s are just a little dirtier.

  “That is hi-LAR-ious,” I said to him, trying to make him feel good. He smiled at me before finishing off his beer.

  He ordered two more and we talked for a while at that bar. It was a nice feeling. He was easy to talk to.

  ………

  Afterwards, he drove me back to my apartment. I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek but he had other ideas. He turned his face to mine and gently leaned in. When his lips pressed into mine the kiss lasted much longer than I thought it would. Was he going to try to go down town…? In the school parking lot…?

  I pulled away, but regretted that. I wanted to keep kissing him, but I couldn't let him think I was easy. Of course, I did tell him I was a virgin. He probably figured I might be playing a little hard to get.

  “Goodnight, Olivia,” he said to me.

  “Goodnight… Big Stick…” I said, smiling back at him. I winked and walked towards my apartment, a spring in my step that I couldn't help.

  -----------Chapter 11-----------

  I had so far managed to avoid talking to both Jess and Veronica about that night with Big Stick through a sly combination of long visits to the library and a lot of pretending to be asleep in the morning when Jess awoke. But, it had only been two days, and come Monday morning there was no avoiding my trek into the “We Can Do It” offices.

  “There’s that whiskey-drinking slut who doesn’t answer my texts!”

  Apparently there was no avoiding Alex. His shrill, accusatory voice cut through all other sounds in the office and suddenly I felt the eyes of every single one of my co-workers on me.

  "I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from calling me that, Alex," I sighed. "At least while we're at work. It is original though - how many Jager shots did it take you to come up with that one?"

  I was walking towards the archival office where the rest of my month’s work would likely be, thanks to Betty’s efforts to make my life outside of school a living hell. Alex followed close behind me like a puppy nipping at my wheels.

  “Okay, Okay… I think we, like, seriously need to talk though.”

  We ducked into an empty conference room. There was a coffee machine in there, and it seemed like we both needed it. We probably had about five minutes before Barkov started combing the building for me. Ten minutes before she started shrieking my name.

  I didn’t even get to start telling Alex about Big Stick before enduring a long hissy fit of a harangue over shaking him and Veronica that night at The Snake Pit.

  “Are you done?” I asked when he stopped to take a breath.

  Alex had been bouncing up and down in his chair, but now he stopped.

  “Okay, okay, tell me all about it,” he said.

  And I did. I told my friend who was practically salivating over the details, how charming he was, about his car, and even the story and joke he told to me. I found it charming how much he was willing to share, and once I got over the Mr. No Name is Big Stick and Star Trek thing, it had been all smooth sailing. Once I had laid out just how enchanting the evening had been for me, I affirmed that I did indeed have plans to see Big Stick again, the inevitable came:

  “Okay, now you’re boring me, baby…” he lisped, leaning in conspiratorially. “I want the juicy stuff? Was he good? How big is he? Do you think he swings both ways?”

  I nearly spat out my coffee.

  “Listen,” I said. “I didn’t sleep with him.”

  “What do you mean you didn’t sleep with him?” Alex sputtered.

  Just then I saw Bartok strutting down the hallway past the conference room, hands on her hips, a big sneer on her face, and chewing on a piece of gum like it was a horse bit.

  “I don’t have time for this now, Alex, okay? Can we just leave it at that? I did… not… sleep… with… him.”

  Alex leaned back, looking genuinely confused and chewing on a nail.

  “Well, how big is his dick?”

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

  ………

  The worst part about going on a great first date is waiting to see if there is going to be a second one. I wanted so badly to call Big Stick… Just to open the door a crack and let him know how much fun I had the other night. But I could hear my mother’s condescending voice:

  “I never had to call a boy when I was your age. What in the world would I want to do that for?”

  My mom really was quite gorgeous back in the fifties. Her waist was about ten inches around which made everything else look even curvier than they really were. I completely believe her when she says she didn’t call any boys. They were probably ringing her phone off the hook. But me, well, I was a different story all together. I thought with my heart, not my head. However, lately I was thinking with my vagina. It wanted another date. It wanted to call him.

  “Don’t you dare call him!” Jess hissed. “I’ll flush your cell if you even think of it. Just get that idea out of your head!”

  I was shocked at Jess’ old-fashioned attitude.

  “Since when are you the one to play hard to get, Jess?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me and planted her hands on her hips.

  “Hey, I make them want me. I don’t chase them if I don’t get a second look.”

  “Second look?”

  “Yeah, you know. You’re walking down the hallway and you see a hottie and you sort of, kind of give him that shy look like ‘Oh, you can’t be looking at me I look dreadful’ as you pass by. Then you turn around and see he’s watching your ass and then he looks at your face and… Smiles.”

  She said this like she was explaining some intricate scientific formula. Presto! Instant boyfriend. At that moment my phone rang.

  “I can tell by the look on your face it’s HIM!” Jess squealed happily. “I’ll give you some privacy. Here, go in the hall.” And she pushed me right out the door into the busy hallway of our apartment. Not the living room, the hallway.

  It was kind of a blessing that Jess pushed me out there. With all the hustle and bustle of college life I had to keep the conversation short. It made it seem like I was really busy. In my mind I came across totally nonchalant and confident as I agreed to meet for coffee. Something simple and in a crowded place just in case he was a one-hit-wonder.

  ………

  I arrived at Mo-Joe’s Coffee House about ten minutes early. I didn’t think that would make me seem too anxious, especially since my hormones were in a holding pattern waiting for the go-ahead to release the endorphins.

  Taking one of the big comfy booths not directly in the middle of the place but certainly not secluded in the back I plopped down faci
ng the door and waited.

  Mo-Joes was a cool place but I did feel a little out of my element. Most of my classmates would choose the closer, more expensive Starbucks that was only two blocks from our corner of the campus. But I was willing to travel the two extra blocks to be in a dimly lit coffeehouse where the people smelled like patchouli body oil and clove cigarettes. Girls with dreadlocks and tattoos would mingle with boys in vintage bowling shirts.

  It wasn’t my style at all. But it was fun to watch, like some bizarre fashion show.

  The coffee was bad and the service was even worse. I had to get up and pour myself my own refill. But I was happy to see Big Stick when he walked in through the door. He looked totally out of place with a polo shirt tucked into a pair of khakis and, oh gosh, boat shoes. That was pretty nerdy for this crowd but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Excuse me, miss? Sit anywhere?” he said to me seriously as I held the pot of coffee in my hands pouring a cup.

  “Oh, um, well we’re pretty crowded but I think the really cute young lady in that booth over there will be happy to share her space with you.”

  He grinned and gave me a wink. My knees went weak. I always loved when a guy winked at me. There’s something kind of innocent yet bad-boy about it.

  So, I grabbed another mug, since I didn’t want to interrupt the waitress who was having a deep conversation with one of the patrons about the band she was going to hear tonight and poured Big Stick a cup, too. I placed it in front of him, grabbed a coffee ice cream cone, and slid into the other seat feeling giddy and awkward as I tried to act cool.

  We made some small talk, the weather was nice, traffic was hectic, and did he hear about the earthquake in Brazil? Oh, yes, how terrible. Truthfully, I didn’t know anyone in Brazil so it wasn’t high on my priority list. But I once knew a bouncer whose name was Brazil. Oh, wow, well, that’s something.

  A hush settled over us. The sound of the coffeehouse was pleasant with the people talking over some kind of be-bobby instrumental techno music. Plates and cups clanking together as the staff washed a few dishes. It was a comforting symphony. Big Stick and I looked awkwardly at each other… I looked down at the table.

  “I want to suck you, lick you, I wanna move my tongue all over you... I wanna feel you in my mouth... Yep, that's how I... Eat ice cream,” I said, breaking the silence.

  Then I took a bite of my ice cream and another bite. When I finished I glanced up and Big Stick was leaning back with a big grin on his face.

  “What?” I asked.

  “The way you eat ice cream. You purr like a cat,” he said laughing.

  I must have turned every color of red possible because he only laughed harder as he looked at my face.

  “Stop, it tastes good.”

  “I could tell… Anyway, I had a really great time the other night,” he said, boldly looking directly into my eyes. There was no boyish hesitation in his voice. He was confident and cool.

  “Yeah? I did too.” I, on the other hand blushed terribly.

  “So, tell me. Have you ever been deep sea diving?”

  I looked at him like he told me he used to be a woman. Where in the world did this question come from?

  “Um, no. Can’t say that I have.”

  “Would you ever like to?”

  Was this some kind of trick question? Was this a deal breaker? If I answered yes then I was the girl of his dreams but if I answered no I would be tossed on the scrap heap? Or maybe it was the other way around? If I answered yes I was no better than a leper but if I said no then by all means let’s start picking out china patterns.

  I knew I had been staring at him as the thoughts went through my mind. If deep sea diving was a deal breaker it might be best to know that now.

  “Uh, well, I love boats. I’ve been out fishing a few times, mostly when I was a kid. My parents rented from a guy when we went to Florida for vacation a couple times. It was nice. Just soaking up the sun and listening to nothing but the waves and maybe a few gulls.” I smiled at him. “And let’s face it. Salt water smells really good. But, I never went in the water to swim. I guess I saw too many movies about giant sharks and squids as a kid.”

  He seemed to be very interested in what I was saying by the look in his eyes. “That’s good to know.” He took my hand across the table. As I looked at his hand holding mine I saw my watch. I had to get back to campus and go to class. Lit class, I think, or Anthro. I couldn’t remember but I knew I had to go.

  “I’m sorry,” I said sadly, wondering if I should just cut class.

  “I know you’ve got class to go to.” He cut me off. How irresponsible would I look if I just blew off by responsibilities? A college probably wouldn’t care but Big Stick likely would. He had a job and seemed successful.

  “Yeah, I gotta go.”

  “Mind if I walk with you a while?”

  “I don’t mind at all. Campus is just two blocks south and well, you know where my apartment is.”

  He smiled and nodded. I guess my nervousness entertained him. It was easier talking to him in the elevator when I didn’t know who he was or at a bar where there was alcohol to relax me.

  As we started to walk he took my hand. I held on to him, interlacing my fingers with his wishing I didn’t have to go to class.

  As if reading my mind he pulled me over to a bench where he sat down and motioned for me to join him. How could I say no? He knew I had class so it was going to be his fault if I missed. He looked at me with sparkling eyes and a devilish grin that made me want to see what scandalous plan he had in mind.

  “Just sit with me for a second and then I promise to let you get to class,” he said with another wink.

  As I sat next to him, my thigh was against his. He put his arm around my back and pulled me closer to him. He breathed softly in my ear and then gently kissed my neck. Jesus Penus…

  There weren’t a lot of people around, thank goodness, but we were not totally alone either. So, our clothes remained on. Before now public sex seemed trashy but now I was okay with. I guess being horny made me okay with many things. I did turn to face him and felt his full lips against mine. I leaned in, pushing my warm breasts against his chest and kissed him back with as much passion as could be allowed on a public park bench.

  He moved his hand to my neck, over my shoulder and quickly down to brush over my breast. I inhaled quickly as my body responded to his touch. I was on the verge of making a bad decision right there on the park bench with campus security, fellow students, God and everyone else watching, He leaned back and slowly opened his eyes.

  “Well, okay,” I said breathlessly. “Give me a call later.” I stood, fixed my hair and just a little woozily started toward my apartment.

  “Most definitely will,” I heard him say. When I turned around I caught him watching me walk away. I added a little more swing to my thing with each step and made it back to my apartment. I collected my books for Anthro and headed off to my literature class.

  ………

  The next day I was on cloud nine. Even Betty couldn’t get to me, because I avoided her at every turn. But I was ready to tear my hair out by the end of my shift. Six hours of sifting through the organization’s financial records, and while Bartok didn’t say much to me, she was sitting in the same room as me while I worked for half the day. She chewed her gum loudly, put her feet up on the desk I was working at, chuckled at the newspaper she was reading, and stared at me with a mixture of amusement and contempt. I didn’t take the bait.

  Next stop after We Can Do It! was Emery Hall for Cultural Anthropology. On my way I needed a quick breather, and I ducked into the quad to take advantage of the fading sunshine while other students hurried by me. I whipped out my IPhone to check my e-mails, and I’m not going to lie – my heart might have skipped a beat when I saw that I had a new message from Ryder.

  “Big Stick,” I sighed.

  It read:

  “Hey you –

  I had a really good time the other night and
yesterday. Thought you might wanna come over for like a flick and something to eat after your Sex in the Jungle class?

  Let me know. I have no plans.

  Hope to see you soon.”

  Should I say that I have plans? This was my immediate thought, but why? No, I probably wouldn’t find anyone better than Big Stick in four years at this school, and, let’s face facts: time was of the essence.

  I quickly messaged him back.

  “Hey Country Boy,” I began. I proceeded to give him my cell number and tell him that if he gave me his address, I’d surely be there shortly after class.

  ………

  Class was hell. It was time for everyone to share their impressions of the Yanomamo, their “informational objective” and whatnot. Aside from dodging the stares of Professor Tunde, that I was positive were aimed at me with no good intent, I couldn’t stop checking my phone for a text from Big Stick...

  I was behaving like a middle-schooler.

  As one of the guys from across the room was giving his little presentation and I was staring down into the little blue glow of the phone in my lap, having eagerly felt it vibrate with a text from an unfamiliar number, a familiar voice thundered through the room and shook me from my nervous reverie.

  “Hi there, Olivia. Is there any way I could perhaps make this class more … Entertaining for you today?”

  I took in Big Stick’s address before looking up. I turned shades of red that I didn’t even know existed and literally dropped my phone onto the floor. There were chuckles. The kid who was giving his presentation sank quickly into his seat, grateful for this quick reversal of the room’s attention.

  “Sorry, Professor Tunde… I’m sorry, Michael,” I said. I was rarely this bold in class, but I figured hey, if he was trying to single me out in this manner, I was going to turn the tables on him any way I knew how.

  He was as cool as ever, but I could tell that Tunde was a bit taken aback by the way I had turned his flirtatiousness from the previous week around on him in front of everyone.