The 39.25-Year-Old-Virgin

"Of course I did."

"See? Maybe that's normal for you, but it isn't for a lot of guys. Sure isn't for the more traditional guys my parents sent my way. And when we started fooling around... well, you were the first. It was magical. You were so gentle. So many times you could have taken my virginity and you didn't. Even those times I begged you to."

"Heh. That was so sexy. You always got so turned on. Did wonders for my ego."

"I bet. So, of course I thought some gorgeous little goddess had snatched you up."

"Well, one didn't. I've had some long relationships but... I don't know. You're right: pickings get slim as you get older. For guys, too. Or maybe I'm too fussy... wanting everything to be like those romance movies we used to watch. Should've taken you up on your offer and proposed, huh? Would've saved us both a lot of trouble."

"We would've been miserable," she said. "I still had a lot of growing up to do." Her mouth pressed into a thin line. "Thirty-four and I still had growing up to do."

"You were sheltered. You'd only moved away from home a little while before."

"I hadn't done anything! Until I met you, it was just school and home and work. Well, I'm growing up now." Lena grinned. "Did you know I tried white water rafting?"

"You?"

"Yes!" She beamed. "Me and friends from work went one weekend. Never thought I could do something like that. It was incredible."

"Wait... friends, Lena? Like real friends?"

"Yes, real friends who gossip and hang out, drink wine and laugh."

"I'm so glad to hear that," I said.

"If things keep going this way, I might be a full adult by the time I'm sixty. And you were right back then—I should have been open with you. You said I should be myself. But the thing is, back then that was me: doing what everyone expected, trying to be perfect."

Lena paused, lost in self-reflection. She looked up. "Well, not anymore. I don't need to be perfect. And I know what I want: a gift for Valentine's day. I want the best boyfriend I ever had to take my virginity. Er, I mean, if that's okay with you."

The change was astounding. It was the Lena who long ago I begged to see: open and honest about herself and her desires. Her sweet nature remained, though weighted by a sadness and resignation painful to see.

I wanted to lift that away. Memories returned of her eagerness, her angelic face as she came and her smile afterwards. If nothing else, at least I could give her that. And after all this time, after so many months of self-control and frustration, to finally make love to her? Relieve her of that virginity she had treasured for so long?

Still, it felt like a rushed, sleazy one-night stand. Take her virginity in her own house then leave? If she really wanted to do it, it should be a little special. Something memorable.

"You know," I said, "it's not Valentine's until Sunday. There's an inn about an hour outside the city. Old stone farmhouse. If I can get a room, will you go with me tomorrow? Then we can see how it goes."

~~~~

The inn sat near a wide river, surrounded by lawns that edged against a pine forest. It was far enough from the major roads to be quiet. The original structure, built from field stones, had been added to over the years, but each addition never quite matched the original stonework.

"Just leave your bags on the step," the old handyman said. "I'll take care of them while you check in."

Inside was cramped and rustic. Just past the check-in counter blazed a stone fireplace big enough to walk into, surrounded by battered chairs and benches.

We had arrived late afternoon. The day was crisp but sunny, so we stepped outside to tour the grounds. Winter was losing its battle with spring and the surroundings were crunchy brown lawns sugared with grains of snow.

I said, "Sorry it's not much to look at this time of year. I was here once in the summer and it was spectacular."

"It's lovely," Lena said. "Like a postcard. Hey... ducks!"

We carefully picked our way down the grassy slope to the river. Families of mallards were milling around the edges, confidently voicing their opinions and bobbing bottoms-up to reach submerged vegetation.

"I thought they flew south for the winter," Lena said. "Did they come back already?"

"I don't know. Maybe they stay here."

"Aww. I'm disappointed. I thought you knew everything. You always seemed to know everything."

"Well, that's only because you didn't know anything."

Lena looked wounded until she saw I was stifling a grin.

"You're awful," she said, smiling. "Making fun of my sheltered existence. I should throw you in the water. You could ask the ducks in person why they're here."

We watched the ducks, laughing at their antics. Three ducks had developed a technique of paddling their orange feet while they were heads down, churning the water trying to reach food deeper in the water.

"I read once about duck's sex lives," Lena said.

"Seriously?"

She shrugged. "In was in a sex guide I was studying. They were making some point about human relationships compared to other species."

"You studied a sex guide? I can't picture it."

"I was planning ahead. I got it so I wouldn't be completely clueless on my wedding night. How did you think I got so good at blowjobs?"

I laughed. "You never did tell me. You learned that just from reading a book?"

Lena smiled sweetly. "That and watching porn. And I practiced with, uh, hot dogs and carrots." She blushed.

I squeezed her mitten-clad hand then kissed her. "You're a very good student. So what did it say? About ducks? Don't they mate for life or something?"

"That's swans. The book covered that, too. Ducks are terrible. They pair for one season then move on. Even then there's lots of cheating and 'forced copulation' as the book called it. In gangs."

"Lovely," I said. "I'll never look at ducks the same way again. So what point was your book making?"

"Oh, something about how humans can choose to be like ducks or swans. I skipped over that part to get to the chapter on oral sex."

Further along the river path near the edge of the forest, we came to a stone cottage perched high on the riverbank.

"I wonder who lives there," Lena asked. "That caretaker?"

"Let's go see."

Lena protested as I pulled her up the slope towards the cottage.

"What if someone's there?" she whispered.

She grew nervous as I dragged her towards a tiny side window and stretched up on my toes to peer inside.

"Aha," I said. "I see."

"What? Is anyone in there? Did anyone see you?"

Taking her arm, we marched to the front door. Lena gasped and turned to run when I swung it open.

"Stop! You can't just... hey! That's my bag. And yours."

We stepped inside and shut the door. After the cutting February breeze outside, it felt like walking into an oven.

"Welcome to debauchery cottage," I said, grinning. "Where I plan to have my way with you. Repeatedly. In many creative ways. I mean, if that's okay with you, Lena."

"You reserved this? I thought we were staying at the inn. This must cost a fortune."

"It's off season. Doesn't matter—you're worth it. Besides, I don't want us disturbing the other guests. All the screaming in agony and gouts of blood you virgins are known for."

Lena swatted my arm. "Wow, you're a lot funnier now than you used to be. But—"

"—but looks aren't everything?"

She made a face. "Oh, you beat me to it!"

We laughed and embraced and for a long moment, simply stood looking at each other. She felt good to hold.

The cottage was an open plan with exposed ceiling beams. A kitchenette stood to the left of the door, with a table and chairs to the right. A smaller stone fireplace dominated the center of the room. It was gas, but the flames were real, heat pouring from it. Picture windows at the rear framed the river and the pastures on the opposite side.

We moved to the fire to warm ourselves, turning when one side got too toasty.

"Hey," Lena said. "There's no bear skin rug. Aren't we supposed to make love in front of the fire on a bear skin rug?"

"I've never done it. But a friend once told me it's not all that great."

"Just as well," Lena sighed. "The rug would get ruined by the gouts of blood, right?"

The little fridge held a bottle of champagne and a bottle of sparkling juice I had requested.

"Your choice," I said as we pulled chairs in front of the fire. "You never used to drink."

"I do now. On special occasions."

We sipped and chatted then simply watched the fire, saying nothing. Before with Lena, there was always an air of expectation, an agenda. Basking there in the heat of the fire, we felt like friends.

"Oh, I almost forgot..."

Lena leaped up to rummage in her bag. With a big smile, she handed me a velvet heart-shaped box of chocolates.

"That's so tacky, Lena. I love it. Thanks."

She pulled off the cover. Each chocolate inside was unique. They looked expensive.

"Try the middle one," she said.

I plucked a domed chocolate from the center and bit. A chocolate-covered cherry.

"I'm giving you my cherry... get it?" She couldn't have been more pleased with herself.

I grimaced and pulled her into a kiss.

"Are we going to do bad jokes all weekend?"

"Oh, I hope not. You said something about having your way with me. Want to get started? I don't know how long it's been for you, but it's been four years for me."

"What? Are you... you haven't been with anyone since we were together?"

Lena looked sheepish. "Not really. I gave a lot of blow jobs, but all the other guys... I never felt I could trust them like you."

While I absorbed that, Lena continued: "But I learned how to take care of myself. Remember I said that was icky? Well, I changed my mind."

"I'm glad, Lena."

"I mean, I had to do something. You woke up my sex drive then left. But doing it to myself isn't as good as it was with you. So... can we get started?"

Smiling, I said, "Well, we're supposed to be back at the inn for the Valentine's dinner in about 30 minutes. But we don't have to go. We can skip it."

"What? We can't skip it. And we can't be late. Besides," she grinned, "we'll need the calories."

~~~~

None of the couples milling around the foyer of the inn looked younger than sixty. The dining room wasn't yet ready, so they stood, drinks in hand, some chatting, some ignoring each other, and some examining the historic prints covering the walls.

Someone handed us champagne, and Lena and I went closer to the fire and sat.

"Oh, it's so nice to see young people here again," said a wiry slip of a lady sitting opposite us. "This used to be a happening place. Now it's like the walking dead."

The lanky gentleman beside her with an eagle beak of a nose elbowed her.

"Cool it, Angie. They just sat down. Give 'em a minute before you start making friends."

He looked at us apologetically. "I always have to reel her back. Being chatty was handy in our swinger days. Now it's just embarrassing."

Angie shot him a look, then leaned towards us.

"Are you the couple in the honeymoon cottage? We saw the lights on over there."

"Honeymoon cottage?" Lena said. "Is that what they call it?"

"That's what they built it for," said the gentleman. "They put it way over there so the moans and screams wouldn't wake the other guests. We were what, Angie... the second people to rent it?"

Angie nodded. "I think so. The paint was barely dry."

"Yeah," he said. "And we never woke up anyone. Though lord knows Angie and her girlfriend were loud enough."

I nearly choked on my champagne.

"So, uh, you've been coming here a long time?" I said.

"Every Valentine's. The food's good, the beds are big, and the staff are discreet. A bunch of us used to come to play musical rooms. Not anymore though. Just the two of us left, now. And it's hard to get your wood working when your old lady's tits are down around her knees."

Angie gasped and swatted him. To us she said, "Don't you listen to this old liar. I get his pecker hard every single time."

~~~~

We huddled together over a table barely big enough for two plates, a candle and one red rose.

As the staff bustled around the room serving each course of the dinner, we chatted about things that had happened to us after we broke up: victories, disappointments, careers.

Having a normal conversation with Lena was still new. We talked when we were dating, but she always agreed with me and found ways to steer conversations back to marriage and family.

Lena wasn't doing that anymore, but as dinner progressed, her cheeriness became more forced.

"Lena," I said. "I didn't know only old people came here at Valentine's. Guess it's kind of depressing."

"What? No! I love it here. And it's inspiring seeing that people can still be in love after years and years. Like swans."

"I don't think all of them are," I said. "Those two by the window, for example."

Discreetly, I gestured to a bored-looking couple who were barely talking. They seemed to be only enduring each other.

"Well, most of the others look happy," Lean said. "Those two we met by the fire sure are."

Two tables over, Angie and the older gentleman were chuckling and feeding each other morsels of food.

They noticed us looking. Both raised their glasses, and we raised ours in return. The gentleman then looked pointedly at Lena, then at me. He grinned, giving a lecherous thumbs-up.

I laughed. "That guy is completely shameless."

"At that age, why not?" said Lena. "She is too."

"Okay, so it's not Jurassic Inn bothering you. Something is."

She studied the tablecloth, picking at it. I could barely hear her when she muttered, "I don't want this to end."

"What?"

Lena looked up, eyes dewy. "I don't want to go back to town. I want us to stay in that cottage and make love and eat chocolates and make love and laugh at ducks and see if your friend is right about doing it in front of a fire, and... a bunch of things. But we've only got until the morning, and that's it. Back to the city, back to working too much, back to swiping left in apps."

She frowned. "And I'm mad at myself for wanting that. It's selfish. I wasn't raised to be selfish."

"Is it being selfish," I said, "to want what you want? Would you like to know what I want?"

"Easy. To sleep with me."

"Oh, Lena. Yes, of course I want to sleep with you. I fantasized about getting to do that with you so many times. We were so good together when you dropped that perfect wife act and just let yourself be you. But you're finally letting me see you all the time. Like duck sex... you never would have brought up something like that before."

She stared.

"I like it," I said. "I like you. I'm being selfish too... I want more. I want to be with you a lot more than just this weekend. So I can get to know you. The real you."

"The real me is embarrassing. I missed out on so much."

I reached across to touch her hand. "You're lovely, Lena. Whatever you've missed you can still do. Maybe we can do them together."

Lena studied my face, trying to see if I was being honest.

"I'd really like that," she said. "I want to spend more time with you, too." She leaned closer. "Now, can we get more wine? And can you tell me how you used to fantasize about me?"

~~~~

Lena clung to my arm on the way back to the cottage. One glass of wine too many.

"The stars are out. They're so bright out here!"

When I opened the cottage door, Lena just stood there.

"You want to stay outside?" I asked.

"This is the honeymoon cottage. Carry me across the threshold?"

"Sure, but this isn't a honeymoon. More like a cherrymoon, right?"

Lena guffawed. "Same result in the morning. What's the tradition for a cherrymoon?"

"I dunno. Drag you by the ankles? Sling you over my shoulder?"

Lena held out her arms. "You may sling, kind sir."

Lena wouldn't stop laughing and squirming as I staggered across the threshold with her over my shoulder.

She yelped when I swatted her ass. "Settle down, silly, or I'm going to drop you."

We made it to the bedroom and tumbled onto the bed.

"Ooo... straight to the bedroom," she laughed. "Eager, aren't you?"

"It's been 4 years, 8 months and 4 days since our first date, so you bet I am."

"Ha! I always liked how good you are with numbers. Did you really just figure that out? Wait... that means you wanted to nail me on our first date!"

"I imagined it."

"Want to know a secret? I imagined it too. It was something like this, only with lots of rose petals on the bed."

"I'll call the front desk. Have them drive over a bucket."

"A bucket! Of petals!" Lena went into a fit of giggling, collapsing back on the bed.

I struggled to peel off her coat, took off my own and went back to the main room to hang them up.

When I returned, Lena had dimmed the lights and turned down the bed. She stood beside it, naked.

She had lost weight yet remained deliciously curvy. Her breasts seemed just as big as I remembered.

"Now look who's eager," I said. "And what's this? No skirt?"

Lena grinned. "I know! I feel naked without it."

We embraced and kissed as we worked to get my clothes off. Once both of us were naked, we held each other, enjoying the warmth of our bodies together. I ran my fingers through her chestnut hair and down her back to her ass, marveling at her softness and the feminine scent rising from her skin.

Lena grasped my already stiff cock.

"I want you in my mouth," she said.

"Mmm. I want that. But this is your night. Ladies first."

We lay on the bed and I kissed her lips, then her neck, and proceeded to her lovely breasts. I licked one while massaging the other, then latched on and sucked gently.

Lena cooed and held me close. Tension left her body as I sucked, licked and massaged one breast then the other.

She parted her legs impatiently as I slid lower, trailing kisses, until her beautiful pussy was before me. I teased her with feathery touches of my fingers and the tip of my tongue. Lena watched, her breath becoming rapid.

When she was squirming sufficiently, I swirled the tips of two fingers around her opening, then sank them into her slightly further than I had dared push the head of my cock all those years before. There was no barrier—only a slight narrowing around the entrance to her inner passage.

I began fucking my fingertips in and out, swirling them then repeating, gauging her responses while trying to remember what she liked.

With my tongue I flicked one side of her clit, then the other, then the center. Lena threw her head back and moaned, bucking her hips into my face.

Lena's light gasps and moans became emphatic grunts and panting as I played with her. She stroked my head and guided me as I edged her higher and higher. When she seemed ready to tumble into the abyss, I relented until she calmed, then worked her back up the slope again.

By the third time, Lena was writhing and gasping, trying desperately to force my face into her. I kissed her clit and sucked gently but insistently, and she rocketed over the edge, back arching, her head ramming back into the mattress as she gave a strangled groan.

It took several minutes holding and caressing her before Lena calmed enough to speak.

"Have you been practicing? It was never like that before," she said.

"I've been studying, too."

Lena looked at me lovingly then pulled me on top of her, spreading her legs in welcome.

As I settled my weight onto her, my cock lodged at her entrance by itself. We smiled. Lena stroked her hand down my back to rest it on my ass. I probed into her gently, feeling her readiness. It felt like suction trying to draw me in.

She nodded in response to the question in my eyes.

I moved just the head in and out like we had done so many times before, pausing occasionally to slide up and across her clit.