Mar 192012
 

I was seventeen.  She was twenty-two.  We worked together.  Her boyfriend was my dad’s boss’s son.  (You may read that twice.)  He was twenty-five.  Big.  Tough.  A college football player.  I was scrawny, small.  They were fighting.  We were all at a party.  Drinking.  Heavily.

Somehow, she and I were against a sink, kissing wildly.  She was the aggressor.

Everyone saw.

I have no idea how it started, how it progressed.  But soon, we were in my house.  My dad was away.  We stayed up all night.  On my loft bed.  Under my loft bed.  Under the dining room table.  On the couch.

She was the first girl (woman) I’d been with who seemed not to be reluctantly agreeing, but aggressively pursuing, sex.

We fucked seven times.

We fucked again the next day.  And the day after that.  And that was it. 

We liked each other, and our friendship was unaltered.

We remained good friends for the rest of the summer, but I haven’t seen her since.

She told me to read Tom Robbins’s Still Life with Woodpecker. I did.

Her boyfriend never said anything to me.

Occasionally, I see him.

Occasionally, I hear an update on her.

  9 Responses to “Firsts”

  1. I love Still Life with Woodpecker, but prefer Jitterbug Perfume. 7 times you say?

  2. I like stories about firsts, yours is no exception. 

  3. Jitterbug Perfume was my favorite Tom Robbins novel, followed by Another Roadside Attraction. I haven’t read them in 20 years and wonder if I’d love them as much (or more) now.

  4. Jitterbug Perfume was my favorite Tom Robbins novel, followed by Another Roadside Attraction. I haven’t read them in 20 years and wonder if I’d love them as much (or more) now.

    • Yeah, my sense is that they probably don’t wear well with age. You read them 20 years ago? That’s almost as long ago as it was that I read them….

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