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We all remember that beautiful moment when we lovingly gave our virginity away to our soulmate. Oh wait, that’s not exactly what happened to you? Us neither.

The ultra fabulous and funny Jessica Bern and I decided to write about virginity this week. You’ll find her very entertaining post below. Leave a comment and then head on over to Bern This to find out how I lost my sweet innocence.

A Gift You Cannot Wrap

In October of my sophomore year of high school, I started dating Allen, captain of the hockey team. Tall, super skinny, sporting hair usually only found in the pubic region, he was every cheerleaders God and for reasons that still confound me, he was mine. After a month of dating, where he actually took me out alone a total of one time, he was already pressuring me to sleep with him.  He had this mentality of, “I’m a virgin plus you’re a virgin” equals “We should have sex immediately.”

On Christmas day, I went to Allen’s house to exchange presents.  For my gift he’d made a painting of a sticker he’d given me soon after we met. It was of a boy and girl on the same pair of skies with the words “love is doing things together” written across the top. The painting was an exact replica. I couldn’t stop smiling until it came time to open my gift to him. All I could afford was this flannel shirt I’d bought him with my babysitting money at Lord and Taylor. I was humiliated and his reaction after opening the box did zero to make me feel any better. “Yeah, okay,” was all he said and of course, I immediately started panicking and suddenly I’m telling him, “Wait, I have one more thing,” and boom next thing I know, I’m giving this guy my virginity as a CHRISTMAS present.

I remember Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight” playing on his turntable.  I remember having to listen to him try and play it on his guitar for ten minutes before he would even touch me, something which became a very unfortunate part of our lovemaking process for the entire time we dated. I remember expecting him to hold me afterward and thank me for going against everything I ever believed in so that he, a Jew, could have a merry Christmas.  Most of all, I remember each time we finished I’d run downstairs and eat whatever cake his mother, a professional baker, had left on the kitchen counter. Allen would have barely stopped moaning and I’d already be slipping on my clothes, asking him, “Would it be okay if I went and got some carrot cake?”

Day after day I would try and get Allen to go places with me but all he’d ever say was, “Let’s just go back to my place and hang for a while.” It didn’t take long for me to understand that “hang for a while,” in high school speak, means “f*@k.”

Two months later, at the end of yet another game, I watched Allen come out of the locker room carrying a dozen roses. Since we’d been dating SIXTY whole days and since I presumed he only slept with women he intended to marry, I knew the flowers were for me and yet, I could still barely breathe, I was so happy. Just then, Allen walked up to me but instead of handing me the roses just told me, “Yeah, I just don’t think this is going to work out anymore,” and then turned to Erin, short, bad skin, and, I suddenly realized, in possession of a very broken hymen, and handed her the flowers.

It seems I wasn’t his first nor was I his fiancé.  I was devastated.  Okay, perhaps I wasn’t Ms. America but at least I wasn’t a prime candidate for Accutane and yes, I was short but at least I could reach the SECOND shelf in the grocery aisle and yet none of that mattered.  As they walked out of the arena together, arm in arm, I wanted to yell out, “Hey, I want my virginity back!” but even I knew how dumb that sounded.

It took me years to get over this guy and thankfully, I’m no longer that naïve, which I’m happy about but then again what are the chances that a guy my age is going to tell me he’s a virgin and on top of that, what are the chances that this time around I would consider that a GOOD thing?

However. I did learn one very important lesson from this whole experience and that is, there is no better way to cap off a night of lovemaking then with a nice big piece of German chocolate cake.

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kelcey kintner