Love & Sex

My First Time: Female, 22, New York

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Female, 22, New York

Tony and I met several months prior to our rendezvous, when I was staking out my favorite band outside of their hotel room the night they were going to take part in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony. He was outside on a smoke break when the friend I was with recognized him as an employee of the band.

Before she could put her right foot forward to approach him – as the more outgoing one of us – I did what you could describe as "push her out of the way" and marched up to him myself. Being shy (a big reason I maintained my virginity until 22), this was very uncharacteristic of me – an encounter with one of the band members would have me running in the other direction; my legs moved me before my brain had time to make decisions.

We hung out that night as well as the night after that at a listening party for the band's album, which Tony got us into by making up a sob story about "two fans camping out in the rain." Standing next to him was electrifying, especially when he touched my bare shoulder to admire a Led Zeppelin tattoo (he had one too). I was in band heaven, but all I could think about was whether he was looking at me.

Parting with Tony on the second night was oddly sad – odd because I didn't know him very well; I told him to have a safe flight and genuinely meant it. I knew he wanted me to stay the night, but my friend made sure we weren't left alone. After all, my sister warned me when I breathlessly called her to tell her what I was up to, "he could be a sleazy man who sleeps with groupies!"

We texted back and forth for months before the band swung around my city on their tour, and I went to visit him. He was sick, so my friend and I brought him chicken soup, which he ate in bed, motioning for me to sit beside him. I was overwhelmed with the sexual chemistry and sat on the very edge, as far away from him as possible. He was more than a decade older than me and I was intimidated.

Days later, circumstances led us to finally be alone together. I had gotten into a fight with my friend, so Tony suggested I take a cab up to his hotel "to have tea." The concierge who directed me to the elevator looked me up and down assuming I was a prostitute, and by the time I got to his floor, I was feeling regretful. When I walked past his sleeping parents in the living room area – they had come up from Florida to see him – I really began to question my choices.

It was not fifteen minutes into watching TV on his bed, after moaning about my achy back, that Tony jumped up to eagerly massage me. For a virgin, I said something really ballsy like "if you keep doing that, I'm going to have to sleep with you," which he took as encouragement. We collided like two horny teenagers, and lasted as long as two horny teenagers would, after which he politely went down on me. I was too self-conscious to let him go on for too long (it seemed more intimate than intercourse), so I faked it.

I realized that I had my socks on the entire time, so he got on his knees and gently slid them off my feet. It made such an impression, that I later wrote a short story about the incident, entitled "Gingerly."

This being my first time, I forgot to follow any of the well-known rules regarding one-night stands, which I assumed this was. Instead of slipping out quietly in the morning, I woke up late – and wide-eyed – knowing that I would now have to face his parents. 

"I could tell them you're my girlfriend," he shrugged.

"You don't even know my last name!" I half-shrieked, half-whispered.

Tony reassured me that his parents were very cool — practically hippies.

He went into the other room, leaving me to awkwardly emerge on my own to greet his mom and dad, and we all had small talk over breakfast.

Upon leaving, I tried to summon up an "I'm not a virgin anymore" feeling, the way people in movies do with a fist pump. I had not told my newfound lover that he had deflowered me and he did not suspect.

Tony called me the next day to offer his frequent flyer miles so that I could go see him in Los Angeles but I didn't take him seriously. A man on tour probably has girls in every city.

After two years and many drunken texts, I moved to LA for a career change. I made sure to tell everyone that I was not moving for Tony, but within just a few months we sped straight through dating and moved in together, got a dog, and became engaged soon after. We were together for two years before I had the courage to tell him he was my first.

Image via Flickr.