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."

So, we all went in the bathroom so Heather could take off her bra, which was cool. Sammie was putting on this bubblegum lipstick, and it was pretty, like bubblegum pink, of course. I didn't really think Sammie would wear bubblegum lipstick, I mean she was so pretty I thought probably she'd be wearing something serious, but she wasn't. It was like she didn't care what her boyfriend thought about her. She was just wearing jeans and at-shirt, a Power-Puff Girls T-shirt, which is like a kids thing, you know? She had a soft leather jacket on too, and I loved it a lot. I asked her how much it was and she just grinned at me, so it must have been like a hundred dollars probably and I knew I'd never get anything like that. And Sammie looked good like that, way better than me naturally and I might have felt kind of bad just standing next to her, except she was so nice to me. And she was giving me that funny look again, but when I looked at her she just smiled.

"You want some?" Sammie asked me, holding out her lipstick.

"I'm not really..." I started saying.

"What?" Sam grinned at me. "You never wear makeup?"

"No, sometimes I do," I lied. "My mom doesn't really like it when I go out if I wear it though."

"So?" She looked at me like I was crazy, but still smiling. "You're mom ain't ever gonna know, Deb. Here..."

Sammie pushed the lipstick in my hand and I guess I didn't have much choice, right? But I wanted to wear lipstick anyway, I just didn't want to seem like a little girl, cause I wasn't very good at putting it on.

"Here, give it to me." Samantha took it and then grabbed my shoulder, turning me to face her. She was putting the lipstick on for me, moving the greasy tip over my lips. "Make like you're gonna kiss me." Samantha said softly and I blinked at her. "Like this."

She pushed her lips out a little and she was looking right in my eyes and it was that same look, that secret one and I know it sounds dumb, but I thought she was going to really kiss me. I swear, I thought Sammie was going to give me my first kiss and that would be ... weird, but I did it. I even closed my eyes, holding my breath and waiting for it.

But all she did was put a little more lipstick on me and I felt myself turning really red, so I looked away, pretending like I was tasting it or something, smacking my lips together and then licking them.

"Don't play with it!" Samantha giggled at me, as if everything was normal, and I guess it was. She hadn't wanted to kiss me, why would she? We were both girls.

Heather was coming out then, looking a little nervous because her nipples were plain as day through her blouse, but it did look better, even if it was too sexy probably. I was glad my bra was okay, it was smooth, like a sports bra really, and with my blouse on it didn't show, or look stupid or anything. If I'd had to take it off, I probably would have gone home and I didn't know how Sammie could go around all the time not wearing one at all. I swear, even at school it was like she didn't car, but we had blazers there anyway.

Finally, after we hung out for a bit, Samantha called her boyfriend and he must have been like right outside, because about two minutes later he was there. That was cool though cause a lot of guys were checking us out, like old guys you know? Those weird old men, like my dad's age, looking at us, especially Sammie, and bumping into stuff. It would be funny if it wasn't so pathetic. Like what? We were gonna talk to them? Let them take us home and have sex or something? That's pretty sick, I thought, but Samantha didn't seem to mind at all, in fact she was smiling at some of those guys, I know she was. And Heather, she didn't even notice probably, she was too busy hiding her nipples, which was funny. The only reason she wore a bra was because her nipples were like an inch long, I swear, and they're always hard. She complains about it because Heather says it hurts after awhile, so she wears a bra to cover them up.

Heather and I got the shock of our life though when we got in the car, a nice one by the way, one of those expensive kind, and the guy driving was black. I swear to God, he was like African or something, except he was wearing a suit instead of a lion skin. And Samantha got in the front seat and just starting kissing him, seriously kissing him too. She had her tongue in his mouth, I could see it when they moved, you know. All me and Heather could do was stare at them. Samantha, who's as white as a snowman in a snowstorm was just making out with this black guy like the world's gonna end in five minutes.

I was ready to go home right then. I mean, I don't have anything against black guys, you know, but why didn't he just get a black girlfriend? There's lots of them out there. And Samantha, Jesus, she could have any guy she wants, seriously, and she wants him? It was just wrong, that's all. I just thought it was wrong and I whispered to Heather that we oughta just split, but Heather liked watching them I think. She said the guy was hot, if you can believe that. And maybe he was, I don't know. He wasn't ugly, I guess, but hot? Johnny Depp is hot. Brad Pitt is hot. Okay, maybe Wesley Snipes is sorta hot, but he's an actor anyway. He's supposed to be. This guy though, and his name was Deke ... I don't even know what that's short for ... This Deke guy wasn't an actor, no way. So I didn't think he was very hot at all. I figured he was probably a drug dealer, like the way he was dressed, and that fancy car. He was probably a pimp too, for all I knew. All those guys are pimps and drug dealers and I don't know what else.

But I didn't get out, even though I knew I should have, just because Heather was staying. And we drove to his place, or his parents' place I guess, that what he said anyway. And he was nice, he talked normal anyway. I was afraid he was going to talk about gats and bling and rap or something, but he sounded smart and he said he was going to college and all that. At least I relaxed a little bit, somehow. Heather kept pinching my leg though, and whispering at me to smile a little. She smiles too much sometimes, I think. I was okay though, and after awhile it didn't bother me that the guy was black, I mean if you weren't looking at him you'd never even know, seriously. He sounded pretty white to me.

His house was nice, really nice. I mean I lived in a nice house, and so did Heather and Samantha, since we all lived in the same neighborhood. None of us were really rich, but just kinda rich maybe, I didn't really know. This guy Deke though, his family must have been rich. His house looked like one of those houses you see in movies sometimes, like it wasn't even made of wood. Just cement and steel and glass. A lot of glass, and it looked like art, kinda. More than a house anyway and I don't know if I would have wanted to live in it or not.

Deke showed us around, saying funny things about every room practically, like how he couldn't even go in the living room until he was 13 or something. That made me laugh and I was starting to like him by then, because he was being very nice. He even touched me, just lightly and I didn't mind it for some reason, and he was asking me if I believed everything he said, and I told him no, but I didn't know what he was gonna say next either.

He really was handsome too, I guess I kinda lied about that before. Or maybe it was just seeing him up close, standing up instead of sitting in his car. He had a great body, I could see that, even though he was wearing like a charcoal suit and everything, He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist and I didn't mind him talking to me, or touching me, except I knew he was Sammie's boyfriend, and a black guy too. I mean I didn't want him to be my boyfriend or anything.

I asked Sammie if she'd met Deke's family, since he was her boyfriend and all, and Deke told me she hadn't because his dad was prejudiced against white people. That sort of made me feel bad. My dad's pretty prejudiced against black people. I didn't think I was, but my dad definitely. If he had any idea I was at a black guy's house he'd have whipped my butt with his belt hard. He did that sometimes, even though I was 15 already. He'd pull my panties down and spank me raw if I deserved it, and I deserved it about once a week usually. If he knew Sammie had a black boyfriend, he'd probably move me to another school, since the reason I went to a catholic school in the first place was all the girls there were white. I'm not catholic, we're protestant, but there wasn't any protestant private schools, so I went to Lourdes. At least I didn't have to go to mass on Wednesdays with the other girls; I went to the library with the few other students who weren't catholic either.

We went to the back of his house, kind of going slow, but getting there and I guessed that was where the party was, because we could hear the music, even through the closed doors. It was loud rap music, like the really hard rap, with all the swearing and stuff. I didn't like it and I especially didn't like it when we went into Deke's big recreation room and there was like a dozen black guys, or I guess more like seven, eight including Deke, but it seemed like more at first. They just looked at us too and I was like, oh we're in the wrong place. And I wasn't really scared, or maybe I was, but Samantha wasn't. Heather was nervous I think, but still smiling. All I could do was stand there and stare.

"Come on, you don't have to be shy." Deke smiled at me and took my hand. He wanted to introduce me and Heather to his friends, and reluctantly I went along with him. I thought Samantha was with us too, but she went over to the pool table and started talking to some guys. She probably knew all those guys anyway, I thought, and she wasn't scared so maybe it would be okay. But I wished she was with us, standing next to me.

The room was big, and nice and lit kind of soft, but still bright enough so you could see just fine. It was comfortable, you know, with real wood paneling on the walls, and thick brown carpeting. There was a pool table and a big bar, a huge one with stools and shelves and glasses hanging from racks in the ceiling. There was a huge television and some guys were playing basketball video on a new Xbox and the stereo was there, with a whole wall of movies and games and books. There was some huge furniture, oversized stuffed chairs and a sofa and all that. It was a cool room, way better than mine at home, and out back I could see a patio with a swimming pool and a Jacuzzi all lit up blue and white, but nobody was in it. Everybody was in the rec room, staring at us.

"Girls, this is JoJo and Chilly, and that big guy, he's Brian, but everybody calls him BMF." Deke leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Don't ask me why." And I giggled nervously.

All these guys were smiling and shaking our hands and saying how nice it was to meet us. That BMF guy, which I still don't know what that means, he was huge, really fat, but he had such a warm smile too. You ever notice fat people have nice smiles? He would have been really scary if he didn't though.

"And, here's Money and Michael," Deke introduced us to the two guys playing basketball, and they paused the game, standing up even so they could shake our hands.

"Why do they call you Money?" Heather asked the one guy, and he was just a little taller than me, probably the smallest guy in the room, but still he looked pretty strong.

"Cause when I'm shootin' three's..." he grinned, " ... it's money, baby!" and he got a high five from Michael and we laughed, but I don't think either me or Heather knew what he was talking about.

And mostly we just kind of stood around for awhile talking with those guys and they finally changed the music, which was nice, putting on something cool, that Gnarles guy, I liked his song "Crazy" a lot. Someone, I guess it was that JoJo guy, he brought us some champagne, which I'd never had before and I wasn't sure if I should drink it, but Heather was drinking, so I did too. It was good, really sweet and the bubbles tickled my nose. I drank it sort of fast too, maybe because I was really nervous. My knees felt like they were shaking, but they weren't. It was so weird talking to all those black guys, especially since they were all older than us, way older like 20 or 21 maybe. They didn't talk to us like we were kids though, they were kind of serious and kind of funny, asking us about school, and being interested in what we liked and stuff like that. It was nice, I liked it a lot, being treated like an adult.

And none of them were grabbing us or anything either. I'd been kind of worried about that. But none of them touched me, except maybe a light hand on my shoulder once in awhile, just to make a point, or get my attention. They sort of talked like I expected though, some of them. Like that JoJo guy, and BMF, they liked to say things like "This nigga done that..." or "That freak was doin' this..." but it wasn't that bad. Other guys, like Deke, and Michael, those two sounded as white as my dad.

I drank two glasses of champagne kind of fast, and I felt warm, but a little more relaxed and Deke was holding my hand, which was okay. I felt like I sort of knew him, more than the others at least, and he led me over to the bar with Michael. Heather was talking to JoJo and Chilly, laughing and drinking her champagne fast too. I didn't really want to leave her, but she seemed to be okay, so I went with Deke and the other man, and I sat on one of the padded barstools while Michael opened some more champagne for me. Samantha was sorta close anyway; she was playing pool with a couple guys who liked like brothers maybe, except all the guys were black, so it wasn't all that easy for me to tell. She was having fun too it looked like, the guys holding her close and teaching her how to play. It was kind of shocking cause in a way it looked like they were almost having sex, you know, the guys bending over her the way they were.

"You know you really do look nice, Debbie," Deke said to me. I was sitting there, spinning a little and smiling, drinking my champagne. "I like a young woman who knows how to dress nice."

"Yeah?" I bit my lip a little and looked down, blushing and I wasn't sure why, maybe because he called me a young woman instead of just a girl. I liked the sound of that a lot.

"She does look nice," Michael agreed. "Hey, try one of these, Debbie." He held out a little pink pill, sort of shaped like a triangle, but with rounded points.

"Oh no," I shook my head. "I can't..."

"It's okay," Deke told me. "It just something to make you feel good, nothing bad."

"What is it?" I asked, feeling a little curious. I'd never done any drugs in my life, but I'd never drank either, except a glass of wine at Thanksgiving once.

"Ecstasy." Michael smiled at me. "Do you know what ecstasy means? Intense joy or delight." He held it out. "Now, are you going to say no to that?"

I giggled, making a little face. "I don't know, ummm..." I'd heard of ecstasy, I mean everyone has, there were even some girls at school who had tried it before and they'd said it was great. " ... Okay."

I took it from him and looked at it. It really was very small, not even the size of an aspirin, so even if it was bad, it couldn't be that bad, right?

"There you go." Deke was smiling, watching me swallow it down with some champagne and Michael refilled my glass. "You're all grown up now, Deb. You're not a little girl anymore, are you?" And his hand was on my knee, stroking my skin gently, moving just under the hem of my skirt.

I laughed, feeling self-conscious at what he was saying, and I pushed his hand away, but it came right back.

"You're a beautiful woman, that's for sure." Michael had started touching me too, leaning across the bar and rubbing my right arm, putting his mouth close to my ear. "I bet you're boyfriend is missing you right now, isn't he?" the man whispered.

I giggled and shook my head slightly, pushing Deke's hand away lightly, and waiting for it to come back. "I don't have a boyfriend," I told him, feeling my face turn red and my whole body was flushing, really. I'd gotten warm all over and it felt pretty awesome.

"No boyfriend?" Deke frowned at that, and his rich brown eyes looked sad for me.

"Nope." I spun around a little, teasing him because his fingers just slipped off my thigh then.

"I could be your boyfriend, baby," Michael whispered, and I felt the back of his fingers brushing across my cheek as he whispered.

"Ohhh..." I grinned, feeling better and better with every passing minute. "My dad would kill me if I got a boyfriend."

"If you just got a boyfriend?" Deke smiled. "Or if you got a black boyfriend?"

"Uh ... Both!" I giggled and then his hand was moving up under my skirt a little, giving my thigh a squeeze and I tried to push Deke's hand away, but I ended up just holding it, feeling his fingers against my warm white skin as he massaged me gently.

"Your daddy doesn't have to know," Michael chuckled, "Just a boyfriend, just for fun, that isn't a bad thing, is it?"

"Um, I don't know." And I shivered a little, feeling my body flash hot and cold and I drank more champagne.

I realized I wasn't scared at all anymore, not even a little, I felt like it was okay, like I was in charge. I was having fun, talking with two handsome black guys, drinking champagne, and I felt so grown up, finally. I think maybe that was what I wanted more than anything, just to be treated like a woman, and not a little girl. I was so tired of my parents, of my dad, and the way they wouldn't let me do anything. Not even wear makeup, for instance. This was way better and I really didn't care what my daddy would think right then.

"You're feeling it now, huh?" Michael blew softly in my ear and I tilted my head with a laugh. "You know what feels good, don't you, baby?"

"Yeah." I licked my lips, smiling and feeling my heart thumping in my chest.

"Look at Sammie go!" Deke laughed. "Dancing with the big man."

We all watched Samantha as she danced with that BMF guy, he was all smiles and he moved like ... I don't know, a black 300 pound Fred Astaire. I mean, he danced really good. It was surprising, and Samantha, she just laughed, moving her body in twenty different directions at once, which looked ridiculously sexy. It wasn't even dancing it was ... Obscene.

"Come on, let's go dance a little," Michael said, taking my hand and I nodded. I didn't know how to dance, not very well anyway, I just danced alone mostly, or sometimes with Heather in my room. This would be my first time dancing with a guy and that seemed kind of funny.

So Michael and I were there, close by Sammie and BMF, moving to the music, Gorillaz I think, something pretty smooth anyway. And I just felt so good. Not drunk or anything, at least I didn't think I was, I was just ... Happy. Ecstatic! I laughed at that thought; at the fact that I was experiencing what was it? Extreme joy? Yeah, that's what I was feeling and I asked Samantha if she'd taken one of those pills and she just laughed and nodded.

"I want another one!" I told her, moving my hot body around while Michael had his hands on my hips sometimes, or on my shoulders.

"No way. You don't need another one, Deb!" Samantha grinned at me and then someone was pouring champagne all over her!

I mean, he was supposed to give her a drink from the bottle, and he did at first, but then he just poured it all out, a full bottle, so it ran down her face and soaked Sam's T-shirt and everything. She was lucky she'd taken off her nice jacket, and it seemed funny for some reason and her shirt turned see-thru, so we could all see her boobs, which were perfect, I swear. She looked at herself for a second, like she might be mad, but then Sammie laughed and started dancing again, but playing with her breasts now, squeezing tem through her wet t-shirt and even pulling her hard nipples until they stuck straight out.

"Hey, what about me?" I giggled, having no idea why I was saying that, but knowing I wanted to be like Samantha. That feeling came out of nowhere, like a truck blindsiding me, but I knew it was true. I wanted to be just like her and I just hadn't admitted it before. Samantha was the most perfect girl I knew, always so confident, knowing exactly what she was doing and what she wanted. Like the rest of the world bored her because she was so far ahead of us.