The Proposal

by Andy Morris

definitely am a virgin! Or at least I was till you deflowered me a few minutes ago. Didn't you feel it when you broke my hymen? My gynecologist said she could open it surgically, but I though this way would be more romantic. And maybe in the back of my mind I thought you might not believe me unless you broke it yourself. After all, a virgin in this day and age is not what anyone would expect."

  Bob just stared at Sylvia. Sylvia, the girl who wouldn't kiss on the first date … who wouldn't even kiss till the twelfth date … Sylvia was standing there in the nude calmly talking about having sex and rupturing her hymen! It had Bob's head reeling. Her nudity alone was making his head reel … making it spin with a growing desire to perform what classical musicians call a reprise, and jazz musicians launch with the happy call, "One more time!"

  "If you don't believe me look at yourself." she instructed. "You probably have some of my blood on your penis. That's why I went to the bathroom: To wash myself off."

  Bob still couldn't think of what to say. All he could do was stare at her in confusion … and rekindling desire.

  "If you don't believe me just look here."

  So saying Sylvia grabbed the top sheet and pulled it off the bed. In the middle of the bottom sheet was a small but noticeable blood spot. Bob just stared in wide-eyed wonder. That was pretty convincing evidence.

  "Why don't you go in the bathroom and wash yourself off too." she advised. "Your towel is the one with His embroidered on it. I thought His-and-Hers towels would be a nice touch on our first time. But I guess I was being too cute and feminine. Maybe that's why you don't want to get married. Maybe you don't like feminine behavior."

  "You bought a set of towels just for us? For tonight?" Then the full explanation of what happened that night dawned on him. "You planned this! You seduced me!"

  "Well what do you think? You don't think I'm a slob who usually leaves things piled up all over my apartment, do you? Why would a neat and orderly man like you want to marry a slob? I wasn't sure you'd realize that I'd made up my mind to accept you, so I put those things on the chairs and couch so you wouldn't have any other place to sit. I thought that would be more romantic than verbally telling you I'd made up my mind and wasn't going to hold you back any more. Actually, I couldn't think of any good way to say anything like that, so I rigged the apartment so you'd have to sit romantically close to me and it would all happen naturally."

  Bob just stared at her in silent astonishment. Finally, Sylvia broke the silence.

  "Go on in there and wash off. Then you can come back and help me change this sheet."

  And in complete confusion Bob slowly walked into the bathroom to do as she instructed.

  IV

  "My birth control pill thing is on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet." Sylvia called after him. "I don't want you to have any doubts about my maybe being pregnant, so take a look at it. It's that wheel-like thing with each pill in a separate little bubble for each day of the week. You'll see that today's pill has been taken and tomorrow's is next up. I want you to marry me because I thought you loved me. I'm not trying to trap you. And I'm not pregnant."

  Not sure that he would do as she suggested, she stepped into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet and removed the pill container.

  "See?" she said, pointing to the appropriate bubbles as she spoke. "Here's where the pill for today, Thursday, was. And right next to it is the pill I take tomorrow, Friday."

  She returned the container to the medicine cabinet then grabbed a washcloth and hand towel which were neatly hanging on a towel rack. She handed them to him, and even though the only illumination was from the night light, Bob could easily see that each was embroidered His.

  "These are yours." she said then she left the bathroom, closing the door as she did.

  His head reeling with all that had happened, and was happening, he went about washing up in a robot-like manner. He removed his shorts and inspected himself. And just as Sylvia had suggested, he found traces of blood, evidence that he had indeed ended her virginity.

  When he finished washing up and put his shorts back on he opened the door to return to the bedroom. Sylvia was sitting on the edge of the bed.

  "Leave the door open so we can see." she requested. "I never realized how pitch-dark it is in this room without a light. I couldn't see to remove the sheet, but I didn't want the glare of any bright light."

  But actually she didn't want Bob to see that her eyes were tearing, the result of his negative reaction to her not-the-least-bit-subtle way of telling him she was ready to be his wife. Resignedly she stood up, still completely nude, and started untucking the stained bed sheet.

  "Help me." she sadly requested.

  Still in his robot like state Bob went to the other side of the bed and did as she asked. Beneath the sheet, right under the spot where she had expected the evidence of her changed sexual status to accumulate she had placed an impermeable plastic liner of the kind used under the sheet of an infant's crib.

  "I didn't know how much I might bleed, so I put this down to protect the mattress. I thought we could store this away and use it with our first baby, but I guess that's not going to happen if you don't want to marry me."

  So saying she wadded up the liner, took it into the bathroom and placed it in the tub where she could wash it off in the morning. Bob watched her, marveling about how carefully she had planned out every aspect of the seduction she had hoped would be the beginning of their honeymoon. She returned to the bedroom and grabbed the stained sheet. Directing Bob on how to help her, she folded it up neatly.

  "I was planning to save this as a keepsake, a romantic reminder of our first lovemaking. But I guess if you won't marry me it'll just remind me of what a fool I was to think you loved me. I guess I'll burn it instead."

  She may have threatened to burn it, but the careful way she folded it suggested she wasn't yet giving up on Bob as her lifemate. She set the folded sheet on a chest of drawers, then from one of its drawers she removed a clean one. With Sylvia again giving Bob directions on how to assist her, they went about tucking the sheet around the mattress. Then they replaced the unstained top sheet.

  Bob assisted in the bed-making still in his robot-like manner. When the top sheet was replaced he sat down on the corner of the bed in an obviously dejected manner.

  "Sylvia, I feel awful about this. I didn't know you were a virgin."

  "I told you."

  "Yeah, but not until you got me all hot and bothered with your kissing. You should have stopped me, but you didn't."

  "I told you what it meant if we continued."

  "But I didn't understand. I mean, for God's sake what made you think I wanted to get married?"

  "I thought the fact that we've been out together two to four times every week for the past two months made that pretty clear."

  "But how did you know I wasn't going out just as much with some other women?" It was a relevant but deceptive question because from the first time he dated Sylvia he hadn't dated anyone else.

  "Well if you had been, you wouldn't even have had enough time left to sleep or work!" she announced as she sat down on the opposite corner of the bed.

  "Sylvia, I can't get married."

  "Why not? Are you already married?"

  "No."

  "Are you a Catholic priest?"

  "Of course not."

  "Then why can't you get married?"

  "I don't know, I just can't."

  "Well, I guess that means you don't love me."

  "I didn't say that!" he objected.

  "Then do you love me?"

  "I don't know. I mean, I've never really thought about it."

  "Then all those dates were only your way of getting into my panties. All you were after was a piece of ass."

  "Damn it! Don't you dare say that! You're not just 'a piece of ass', and don't you ever say you are, or say that I treat you like you were!"

  Anyone who might have heard h
im would have recognized from what he said that, whether or not he himself yet realized it, he in fact looked on Sylvia with exactly the kind of respect that comes with love. But Bob was just beginning to appreciate this fact.

  V

  There was a long silence as each sat on opposite corners of the bed, each dejected and apparently in deep thought. Finally Sylvia decided the affair was at an end, so she stood up, pulled back the sheet on her side of the bed and crawled in. She didn't say a word. After another long silence Bob spoke.

  "So what are you going to do?"

  "I'll just have to get on with my life. What else can I do? It won't kill me if you won't marry me."

  "But you're not a virgin anymore." he objected.

  "That was my mistake, and I'll just have to live with it. I'll survive. It probably won't even matter. There don't seem to be any men around anymore who appreciate having a virgin for a bride. You sure don't."

  She rolled over facing away from him. Bob thought he heard a sob.

  "Now don't you go crying on me!" he demanded.

  "I'm not crying!" she insisted. However the sound of her voice indicated that she was having to do everything in her power not to.

  Bob suddenly and angrily stood up and took a couple determined strides toward the chair with his clothes, the chair where Sylvia had so neatly placed them when she had romantically undressed the man she thought had agreed to be her lifelong companion.

  "Damn! Damn! Damn it all to hell!" he exclaimed as he strode.

  "Are you leaving?" she asked sadly as she rolled over to face the side of the bed