The night I lost my virginity I was 15 years old, a student at a catholic girl's school, and just about as innocent as a girl could be. I'd been invited to go to a party by a friend of mine, another 9th grader named Samantha, who we just called Sammie mostly. She wasn't my best friend, that would be Heather, but Sammie was okay too. She was just a little different though, and not just because she was so pretty then with her long blond hair, and blue eyes, and a really beautiful face. She talked different than most girls I knew, like she knew a secret or something, and if you listened really close you could almost hear it, but not quite.
Her mom had died though, a long time ago and Jen, another friend of ours, always said it had made Sammie grow up too fast. That always seemed pretty sad to me. Another thing that was strange, or maybe not, was sometimes I would catch her looking at me. Not staring or anything, not really, but just ... looking at me, like she wanted to say something. But she never did and she'd look away, frowning a little maybe, and then smile like she'd forgotten all about it. Sammie also knew about sex, or at least we thought she did, she sure sounded like it and Jen had told us, kind of secretly, that Samantha wasn't a virgin. Jen knew a lot about Sammie because they'd been best friends forever.
My best friend was Heather, and we'd known each other since 3rd grade, which was more than half my life then. So it was kind of a long time. She's pretty, not like Sammie who's about the prettiest girl in school, but cute. Heather's definitely cute, with brown hair to her shoulders, kind of wavy, and nice hazel eyes. Soft white skin and small breasts maybe, a little baby fat on her hips, but she was growing still. She'd had a boyfriend, a high school guy like 17 years old, but he'd dumped her. That had been tough and Heather had spent a lot of time at my house crying over that jerk. She thought he'd loved her, and Heather wanted to have sex with him, I mean she really did. She was always talking about how she couldn't wait to do it.
I couldn't decide if I wanted to wait or not. I wasn't pretty at all, I didn't think. Not even cute. But I knew I wasn't ugly either. It was just that my body couldn't figure out what it was doing. I was sort of tall, like 5'4" then, with long black hair and blue eyes, dark blue so my eyes looked black sometimes, and that was cool. I liked my eyes. My boobs had just started growing, finally! Everyone had boobs but me it seemed like, but then one day I did. And they grew pretty fast too, but it was strange, you know, getting used to having boobs, so I was still trying to figure out if I should cross my arms under or over them,. Dumb, I know. So anyway, I don't know. I looked okay, my body was nice, my face was sort of cute, but all those parts of me just didn't seem to fit together. That's the best way to explain it.
My mom just said I needed a little more time and then ... I'd be beautiful. But that was my mom saying that, so she probably had to.
So, one day kind of out of the blue, Samantha asks Heather and me if we want to go to a party. She said her boyfriend was having it and he said Sammie could bring some friends if she wanted. Sam's boyfriend was a college guy, or so she said, and so the people at the party would all be older than us. That kind of made me nervous, but only because I wasn't really sure about myself. Samantha, she'd have no problems. She didn't act like she was 15 anyway, more like she was 25 or something. So I didn't think I wanted to go, really.
But Heather was hot for it, naturally. She'd just broken up with her boyfriend and she wanted another one as soon as she could find one. She had something to prove I guess, which is always a bad thing. When Samantha mentioned college guys, Heather's eyes just lit up and even though I said I didn't want to go, making excuses like how much trouble I'd be in if I got caught, Heather told me she wanted to go ... But she wouldn't unless I went with her. And that was Heather right there, she was always doing that to me. She'd want to do something crazy and talk me into it, making it seem like we both wanted to do it, when all I was doing was trying to make her happy. It didn't seem very fair sometimes, but she was my best friend, so what else could I do?
And I guess I might as well admit the truth now, right? I did kind of want to go. I'd never had a boyfriend, never even kissed a boy before. I didn't think I'd get one at that party either, but it would be fun, maybe. And if I did meet a boy, well I did think it would be nice kissing, you know. And if he wanted to touch me, well ... I thought about that sometimes. And sometimes I thought about it a lot, you know, alone in bed, sort of half-asleep, remembering something Heather might have told me about what it was like with her boyfriend. How he touched her breasts, even fingered her sometimes. I couldn't believe it when she told me that, but Heather swore it was true. They'd kiss and he'd rub her pussy and she'd play with his penis, his cock. But never going all the way, just getting close to it.
I'd think about that and touch myself, feeling my sex inside, how it was soft and buttery, especially after I'd rubbed it for awhile. My hymen was broke already, so I could go in pretty far when I wanted to, and I'd imagine it was a boy, someone I liked a lot, and he was touching me and kissing me, and then getting on top of me. I really wanted that, maybe even more than Heather, but I couldn't ever say it. I'd have died if anyone knew how much I wanted to have sex, real sex. And so I was thinking, hoping and dreaming really, that maybe at this party I might find a boy like that.
Picking out my clothes was the hard part. Samantha wasn't any help, I asked her what I should wear and she just shrugged. I asked what she was going to wear and she laughed, telling me she hadn't even thought about it. But if I looked like her I guess I wouldn't have worried about it either, Sammie could wear a burlap sack and win a beauty contest, which seemed totally unfair to me at the time, but I stll liked her. Lots of girls, I mean the really pretty ones, they don't even look at someone like me. But she was my friend and she never asked for anything in return, so I couldn't get really mad at her anyway.
The only thing that was really weird, and this probably should have clued us in right away, was that Sammie hadn't asked Jen if she wanted to go. We weren't even supposed to tell Jen about it, I don't think, but Heather mentioned it and then Jen was asking and we told her. I didn't know why Jen couldn't go and neither did Heather, and Samantha wouldn't say, not even to Jen herself. She just told the girl she couldn't come and they had a big fight over it, I think. But it's hard to tell with those two anyway, they're like sisters and their arguments almost never happen where someone else might hear it. They're lucky that way, Heather and I got in a fight once and we were yelling at each other across the playground, but that was in the sixth grade, we'd grown up some since then.
Anyway, Heather said she was going to wear a skirt and a little top that she'd just bought, like a little halter with spaghetti straps, and that sounded pretty sexy. I wanted to be sexy too, but I was shy so I just wore a skirt, a nice one that was black like my hair and loose, reaching my knees. And a white blouse on top of that, it was real silk too, which made it awesome, I thought. Heather thought I should have worn a shorter skirt, but not me. I had sort of skinny thighs in my opinion, but my calves were fine, they looked good. I pinned my hair back with a pink clip, just so it would fall nice on the left side of my face, and I liked it. At school I always wore my hair up, letting it all the way down so it fell past my shoulders made me look a lot different.
Heather was wearing a short white skirt, that showed off her legs, and they're nice legs too. Heather had really small breasts, just little A-cups and she hated that, but her legs and especially her butt were pretty great. My butt was okay, but I was just 15 so it was supposed to be okay. She wore that halter too; kind of a wine color, red wine, and she had a bra on underneath that, which looked sorta bad. The straps were big, a lot bigger than the straps of her top. I didn't say anything though, but I should have probably. Samantha finally pointed it out at the mall, which was where we were meeting Sam's boyfriend.
"You gotta do something about your bra, Heather," Sammie decided, shaking her head.
"Why? What's wrong with it?" Heather kind of frowned.
"You look like you just got it!" Sammie laughed. "Your mom make you wear it?"
"No." Heather shook her head.
"So take it off, Jesus." Sam looked at me then. "You think she looks like a dork?"
"Ummm..." I didn't want to say anything, Heather was my best friend.
"Alright," Heather shrugged. "Fine. I'll take it off."
.... There is more of this story ...