Virginia and her Virginity

"Damn, Nanny, they've completely misconstrued everything I said."

Virginia Watson was, to put it mildly, extremely annoyed. She is a beautiful 29 year-old woman, with a PhD, a tenured position in the London School of Economics, and newly nominated for a Nobel Economics prize for her joint research with an American Economist from Harvard, where she occasionally lectures, for their studies on "Autocracies and their impact on the International Economy."

Following her 2010 Nobel nomination, the BBC wanted to interview her in depth. The interview had aired a few days earlier, but every evening since, some program made reference to it, or to the ongoing follow-ups. It had been edited in a way that drove Virginia's anger up to boiling point.

Instead of focusing on her work and her international acclaim for it, the interviewer, a rather homely woman in her forties, had focused on the fact that this beautiful woman, with a very nice figure and natural shoulder length wavy blond hair, was single and had no male in her life.

Worse, the interview implied that Virginia thought that men were either a) too arrogant to treat her as an equal, b) were wimpy and scared of her and became gibbering wrecks in her presence, or c) were interested more in her body than her brain, and she was too smart for such men. And of course, being called 'Virginia' totally fed a whole lot of jokes and aroused the imagination of internet trolls.

Nanny smiled. "I did warn you, dear, to stay away from personal questions."

"I know, but she was really quite sneaky as to how she worked the questions in."

Ginny, as her close friends called her, had lost her Mum at the age of two and had no real memory of her at all, beyond a few photos. Her father had been dashing and handsome as a younger man and devoted father, taking her to her riding lessons and dancing lessons, and being very involved in her life until she was 10, when a riding accident had led to the horse being shot and him losing his legs.

From then until his death while she was at university, he had been in a wheel-chair. He had made a good living from his books, mainly novels of the who-dunnit genre, or legal thrillers, driven by his own legal background. His first book was published two years after he got his law degree and had not spent long in Chambers, and he had never practiced law since.

Nanny had been with Ginny since her mother initially became ill, and Ginny employed her still, as a companion, mother-figure and buffer against the cruel real world. Nanny knew her better than anyone, warts and all.

Now this interview, not only live on television, but picked up by the press, was portraying her as a gorgeous, super-attractive, super brain trapped in her own virginity. The part of the interview that had been most misconstrued was where she had said that her romantic dream was to find a man who could accept her as an equal, be her equal, and not be blinded by her appearance. A man who was comfortable in his own skin and own his skills. It would help if he were a romantic too, she had implied in the interview, and of course that lead to all sorts of comments in the press and on the internet about her seeking a Prince Charming.

The other suggestion was she wanted to meet a Beast from the City, who would be 'cured' of his wicked financial ways by falling for her as the economist Beauty! Clearly, Walt Disney had a lot to answer for!

According to the interview, and the internet trolls, Virginia had never had a date, and never even been kissed. Although the comments about her being a virgin were, factually, correct, she had had dates, just not a major relationship. Actually, if she were honest, not even a minor one.

In her own reality, all she wanted was a man who was able to wine her, dine her, talk to her, amuse her and make love to her as one half of a couple of equal people. Her affection for her father was based, still, even after his death, on his confidence in himself and his education, and yet who still demonstrated his sincere humility.

Pouring herself and Nanny each a scotch, she smiled. "Nanny, I've got it. Let's hire seven dwarves and go live in a cave, and one night when I'm asleep, some passing Prince can kiss me!"

Nanny looked at her over her glasses, which always seemed perched on the end of her button nose, and asked in her droll, pragmatic way, "Is that your first, second or third scotch, my dear?"

In the morning, as Ginny breakfasted, Nanny brought in the mail. For some reason, she always liked to do this by putting the envelopes, unopened, on a silver tray and placing a letter opener carved from a piece of mahogany by her father after his accident on top.

One envelope attracted Ginny's attention. It was addressed to her using her Professor title, in an expensive envelope with her address typed, but no return address, or any other identification of who it was from. Inside was a typed letter.

'Dear Miss Watson, My employer, who wishes for the time being to remain anonymous, would like me to arrange to meet with you in order to arrange a romantic blind date, during which you will be treated like a Princess and will be able to choose if you wish to know the identity of your date at the end of the evening.

I will visit your house at 7:30 this evening. If you are completely not interested, simply have your companion say so to me. Otherwise, let me in and I will provide further details.'

Ginny handed the note to Nanny, who read it through several times. "They obviously know something about you. They know where you live, and they know about me. And you did say last night about wanting a passing Prince to kiss you!"

"Well, it will be interesting listening to how they wish to set up this blind date. They imply I may go through the whole date and not even know who it was with. I wonder how they plan to pull that off?"

Given it was a Thursday, Ginny had two classes to give at LSE and was home mid-afternoon. Nanny had planned an early dinner so they would be completely finished by 7:30.

At 7:30 precisely, the door bell rang. Nanny went to it and saw a woman in her late fifties, dressed completely in black like a house-keeper in period dramas, standing at the door, clutching a purse and an umbrella. "Please come in," said Nanny, trying to drive the thought of Mary Poppins out of her mind.

"Thank you," said the lady. "My name for this purpose is Miss Smith. Should I call you Nanny?"

"Yes please," said Nanny, formally, "come this way."

Nanny showed Miss Smith into Ginny's study. Ginny politely shook Miss Smith's hand, which seemed to surprise the older lady.

"Let me get right to the point, and first let me assure, this is a genuine approach of someone wanting to really meet with you. My employer wishes for you to meet blindly at a masked ball. Of course, he knows what you look like, and he knows your talents and accomplishments, which are the reasons he wishes you to meet him and him with you. Before I make the proposal, I need to ask one very personal question.

When was your last period, and are your periods regular?"

To say that this question surprised Ginny would be an understatement. She looked at Nanny, who looked back questioningly. "My period finished two days ago, which perhaps added to my anger at my television interpretation, and my periods are regular as I have been on the pill since my teens, when they were not regular."

"That is perfect," said Miss Smith "The proposal is that you will go, one week this Saturday, to a masked ball at Claridges'. A suite will be reserved for you - at my employer's expense naturally - and he will also pay for your ball gown and mask, for which I shall measure you this evening if you accept his invitation. During the evening, ten men will approach you and ask to dance with you. At midnight, like Cinderella, you will return to your suite and be asked which of the ten you would most prefer to date.

Naturally, the hope is that you will choose my employer, after which he will be properly introduced to you, to answer any and all questions you may have about him and his background, situation, etc. This way, both of you will be choosing the other, if indeed you do, based upon your own personal, albeit brief, experiences and observations."

"I see," said Ginny, "so I may choose no-one, but if I choose the wrong one, I take it they will not be introduced to me, since they are being drafted in as cannon fodder."

"Put a little bluntly, but basically correct."

"And having met me, he may choose to not meet me again, after the ball. If the dance did not meet with his expectation."

"That is also correct. However, he has done much research on you and feels the investment he is making in paying for all of this stands some degree of success, or else he would not undertake it."

"May I ask if your employer is a professional gambler?"

"Most certainly he is not! He has at various times taken certain business risks, properly thought through and considered, but he is not a gambler, professional or otherwise. Although, I must admit that having worked with him for many years, I have never seen him try anything like this to meet a young lady. So maybe there is a hint of a gambler there, after all."

"And may Nanny accompany me to help me dress?"

"Yes, although I shall be there too. But there may come a point in the evening, should the plan meet both of your approbation, when you and my employer would prefer neither of us there. A separate suite will be available for that eventuality."

"And you wish to measure me now for the gown?"

"Yes. Apart from my many other skills, I am an accomplished seamstress, so I can take your measurements. I will not, personally, be making your gown."

"Miss Smith, please remain seated while Nanny and I retire and discuss this briefly. It is somewhat unusual and unexpected."

"Of course."

Ginny and her Nanny left the room, and conversed quietly in the kitchen. Nanny's basic view was "It takes a lot of guts and quite a bit of money to try and pull this off, so why not? He seems a very unique individual. And he is allowing me to accompany you for security."

"Exactly my thoughts. Let's put Miss Smith out of her misery."

They returned to the study. Ginny looked at Miss Smith and asked, "A drink while you measure me? Wine or scotch?"

Miss Smith beamed. "I take it that is a 'yes', so I will indulge in a little scotch if I may?"

And so Nanny poured three nice-sized measures of single malt Glenlivet into some heavy cut-crystal glasses, and Miss Smith produced her tape and a notepad. Ginny removed her blouse and skirt, and allowed Miss Smith to measure her fully. She soon had all the dimensions; Ginny's breasts, full and prominent as they were, her shoulders, all the usual measurements as well as unusual ones. like the distance from Ginny's hips to the floor, and her height in bare feet. She also got Ginny's shoe size and the fact that Ginny liked and could handle a 3" heel when dancing.

Miss Smith made a point of studying Ginny's body. Her full but firm and shapely breasts with their 36E bra size, her naturally trim waist, and her long, shapely legs with their trim ankles.

After completing the measuring, Miss Smith asked "Could you please give me a little token, such as a handkerchief or scarf of yours that you would recognize, that my employer may return to you to prove his identity?" Ginny found a handkerchief with lace trim and an embroidered initial that had been her mother's, and handed it to Miss Smith. "Excellent!" was all she said.

Try as they might, there was no way either Ginny or Nanny could draw any information on the mystery date out of Miss Smith. Any question in that direction and she clammed up and took a sip of scotch. All they knew at the end was that the mystery man was a man, and did speak English and was not in a wheelchair.

They did get information that a car would pick them up at 4:30 on the Saturday, 9 days hence, to take them to Mayfair; that a light supper would be served in Ginny's suite prior to dressing; and that all clothes and lingerie would be provided, including shoes.

*****************************

Later that evening, Ginny lay in bed reviewing the evening. To describe it as 'unusual' was certainly an understatement.

Nanny had been with her virtually all her life. At the time her mother started to fall ill, Nanny already knew the family as she was Nanny to Ginny's mother's sister. So it was natural when the sister no longer needed a Nanny and Ginny's mother became ill, Nanny switched families.

Ginny remembered her father in her younger life, prior to his accident. with great affection. He worked from home as an author, and seemed to be able to find some one-on-one time with her every day. Even after his accident, his sense of humor remained. "I got off light - they shot the horse. They could have given the horse the wheel-chair and shot me!" was one of his common comments about the accident. She remembered him as a handsome man even to his mid-fifties, which he was when he died. The cancer only spoiled his good looks in the last couple of years.

Since his death, there had been no major male influence in her life. One or two professors were mentors professionally, but were not involved in her life outside of education. Her Nobel partner was a male, living in the US and happily married. Ginny knew and liked his wife. But being constantly a 'rising star' did impact her life in social circles and made dating difficult if not downright awkward. Other women were never, for Ginny, a consideration, romantically.

But laying in bed and considering what she had let herself in for, somehow she could not help but feel her father's hand in it somehow, from wherever he was now. She wasn't excessively religious by any means, although she did attend church often, but she could accept somewhere that people went after life was through here, and where they could see, and maybe influence, the lives of those left behind. A thought like that did not challenge her otherwise totally logical mind.

And so, over the weekend and through the next week, life went on, with its lectures to be given, papers to mark, research to do, newspapers and government announcements to be studied, and her once a month column for the Economist magazine to write. But she was not too busy to research Claridges'.

She quickly learned that any style of suite would cost over a thousand pounds per night. She learned that the masked ball was a charity ball for an organization supported by royalty, and that tickets for the ball were five hundred pounds a head, but were tax-deductible. So her blind date was not poor, and considered her worth a noticeable investment. After her treatment at the hands of the press, that made her feel good.

And then there was the 'after the ball' considerations. The bit about Nanny and Miss Smith no longer being in her room, but having a suite to go to themselves. It wasn't just the expense, though. It was the implication that the suite would be occupied by her and her blind date overnight. And that, Ginny was smart enough to realize, would almost certainly mean that she would no longer be 'the Virgin Economist' by breakfast!

So that left her considering how she felt about that. Clearly, the first step in the process was to be impressed by the right person - her blind mystery date - enough to identify him correctly. The second step was to receive him in her suite, where presumably he would return her mother's handkerchief to identify himself. The third step would be for him to admit that he wanted to have a relationship ongoing from there. But ongoing to where?

Did he envisage marriage? Was it to be a long-term affair with benefits but no commitment? Dinner whenever he happened to be in London, maybe with some overnight casual sex? Or just a very romantic - and expensive - one-night stand.

Ginny giggled suddenly, on her own, laying in bed. The thought of having a one-night stand that set a new world record for expense kind of appealed to her, and would make a glorious tale to tell amid all those staid economic professors in Harvard the next time she was there. A story they would find fascinating and shocking all at the same time.

She imagined telling the tale to a silent audience at the top table in the dining room, in an atmosphere where you would hear a pin drop. In many ways, she knew Massachusetts was still somewhat puritanical.

What it came down to, she realized, was that if this mystery date was capable of sweeping her off her feet, out of her clothes and into bed, she was game. As she lay in bed, her left hand went to her belly and started gathering up her nightgown, and she could feel the hem sliding up her legs, her thighs, until exposing her pubic hair.

Her right hand reached down, and her middle finger started to rub along her nether lips, slowly generating the required moisture, and allowing her to bring herself off to a gentle climax. What would it feel like to have that done to her by a man?

*****************************

And so, the Saturday finally dawned. Before breakfast, along with her usual shower and shaving of her legs and armpits, she had trimmed up her vaginal area, so that there was now just a small landing strip above her womanhood, and which was otherwise clear around her vagina. She wandered down to breakfast still in her nightgown and robe. Nanny asked if she was going to take her nightgown and robe with her to the hotel.

"I think, Nanny, that if the gentleman is in my bed, he would prefer me au natural and not wrapped in lace, and as for a robe, at Claridges', I expect a soft cuddly robe waiting for me for the prices they charge! I shall take clean clothes for Sunday, and also Monday, being an optimist, and leave it at that." Nanny just laughed.

Nanny was a straight from the shoulder Yorkshire woman, who in a phrase from that area 'called a spade a bloody shovel' and was, if the truth be known, not without a few romantic adventures in her own past.

So they passed a lazy day, played some Scrabble, until Ginny needed to dress to go to the hotel. It was a Saturday afternoon in late May, just before the end of term for Ginny's teaching, and the forecast was for a sunny warm weekend. The ball was the first Society Event of the summer season.

At 4:30 precisely, the doorbell rang, and Nanny opened the door of their house near Kew Gardens. Miss Smith stood there smiling, and a chauffeur sat in a very shiny burgundy-colored Rolls-Royce Phantom Advance. Miss Smith took Ginny's small overnight case, Nanny took her make-up case, and Ginny, with a smile, saw several lace curtains in neighboring houses flutter a bit.

Miss Smith sat in the front, alongside the chauffeur, while Nanny and Ginny sat in the back. Miss Smith pulled back the glass privacy screen so she could talk to them. "We have you already checked in, and I have the keys, so we can go straight up to your room. You do have a corner suite, fifth floor, with a view down Brook Street. I propose you enjoy a nice hot bath, after which Nanny and I can do your hair, and then order your light dinner. Then we will dress you. The ball starts at 8 and you will enter around 8:30."

Ginny smiled at the level of organization. She was quite organized and disciplined herself, and appreciated those who were. Was it her date who was the planner, or Miss Smith? That was the question.

They arrived at the hotel around 5:15 and went straight to their suite. It was extremely large, elegantly furnished with Regency style furniture. It had what was described as a 'couples' bathroom, and, more interestingly, the bed was described as an Emperor bed. It looked enormous.

Nanny looked at the bed, stood next to Ginny, and in her inimitable Yorkshire style, said quietly, "You'll be playing 'hunt the lover' in that thing in the morning!"