I lost something besides my virginity that fateful day.
On this night the raindrops beat against my bedroom window sill long after the lightning had driven me inside. I took the picture of David from under my bed, and I wept uncontrollably as I listed to “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” over and over.
* * *
I worked at a factory for part of the summer after my first year of college, but then I got another job offer that was related to my chosen field, journalism. The pay was not as good, but I just had to take it for the experience. Little did I know what kind of experience I was in for very soon.
The offer came from a print-on-demand company in my hometown that published books for authors who couldn’t or wouldn’t publish through traditional methods for one reason or another. This company offered numerous services such as electronic books, hard cover and paperback, editing, distribution, promotion, websites, and much more.
My function was to work with the author and the editor assigned to the book to convert the manuscript to the proper format required by our publishing software. Some manuscripts were submitted via paper, some on disk, and some electronically. Basically I had to get the manuscript in Microsoft Word and clean it up, incorporate the editor’s recommended revisions, and obtain the author’s feedback, and ultimately approval. This often took a lot of back and forth communication between the author and myself.
With respect to the first four books I handled, there was no problem communicating with the author. I had phone numbers and other information. Two of the authors resided nearby, and we met in person several times. But the fifth book presented a dilemma. It was a romance novel entitled Take Me to Heaven about a young woman’s first time.
The author of Take Me to Heaven, Emily David, seemed quite unusual, at least very different than the other four authors I had worked with extensively. The book was incredibly erotic, although it didn’t contain any explicit sex. As I read the book for the first time, I thought about my best friend, Jenny, and her propensity for “hooking up.” No romance—no commitment—just sex. I didn’t want it to be like that for me, especially not the first time. I wanted it to be like Take Me to Heaven.
Emily David and I exchanged numerous e-mails concerning the book, but she wouldn’t talk to me on the phone. When our communication eventually turned a little personal, Emily asked for a picture of me. Quite unusual I thought, but I complied. I sent her one where I wore my favorite T-shirt and black and gold miniskirt.
In her next e-mail Emily wrote, “Sarah, you are extraordinarily beautiful. I love your long red hair. I can see you have very, very blue eyes. Wow! That miniskirt! And I can see your nipples through the T-shirt. You must not be wearing a bra.” Now, does that sound like a woman? I don’t think so. Not unless she’s a girl who prefers girls. The book sure didn’t sound like that to me. Emily also asked, “Do you really love dick, like it says on the front of your T-shirt in the picture?”
I wrote back, “Emily, that is a football shirt! Please take note that under ‘I Love (heart) Dick’ in the big black letters is the word ‘LeBeau’ in the little gold letters. Dick LeBeau is the Pittsburgh Steelers defensive coordinator. Okay, Emily, I know you’re a guy. It doesn’t matter. Authors use pseudonyms for various reasons. Some use one to disguise proclivity. Others to hide moonlighting and so forth. No big deal. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But if you want to, please call me. I promise confidentiality.” I repeated my office phone number and also listed my cell phone number.
Two days later I got a call on my cell phone. A definitely male voice on the other end that I did not recognize. “Hello, Sarah.”
“Hello. Who is this? I don’t recognize your voice or number.”
“I knew it!”
“Yes, that you did, Sarah. What gave me away?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Wanting a picture and then what you said. About the miniskirt and stuff. Like if I really love dick. Sure I do! Dick LeBeau.”
Now he laughed. I liked the sound of it. “Well, I couldn’t help it, Sarah. You . . . made an impression on me.”
“Just what is your name, sir?”
“David. But not Emily David. No, it’s David Peterson.”
“Well, David Peterson, why did you pretend to be Emily David?”
“You had to ask, ‘Little Miss Intuition.’ My book, Take Me to Heaven is written in the first person from a young woman’s perspective about her first time. How would that play if the author was a man?”
“Yes, I see your point, Emily, ‘er I mean David.” I giggled. “Makes sense to me.”
“Besides,” he added, “I feel a little . . . I don’t know . . . what with being a guy and . . . writing a romance novel. I . . . feel weird.”
“Don’t you dare feel that way, David! I think your book is beautiful! Wonderful. Incredible. So . . . memorable. I just hope it’s . . . like that . . . oh never mind.”
“Take me to heaven,” I whispered.
“What? I can’t hear you, Sarah.”
“David, I can’t talk right now. Pressing business with my boss. Can I call you back later?”
“Sure. I’ll talk to you again soon, Sarah.”
Oh yeah, I had to go. To the bathroom. Not for number one or number two. No, for number three. With my new vibrator.
* * *
David and I talked on the phone frequently over the next week. Each conversation seemed more personal. We really got to know one another quite well in a short period of time. And then we decided to meet. He lived about a hundred miles away, and we agreed on an old amusement park on a small lake about halfway between us.
“Please wear your ‘I Love Dick’ T-shirt,” he requested. We both had a good laugh over that. “And that itty-bitty miniskirt,” he added.
The moment I saw him I knew it. He would be my first. Sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. I had been spending a great deal of time doing number three lately. He brought me roses, just like in his book. So handsome. Very, very blue eyes. Like mine.
On the Ferris wheel David put his arm around me. I melted. The first kiss was soft and shy, just like in his book. The second kiss was so passionate it made me shiver. “Are you cold, Sarah?” he asked with concern as he noticed my goose bumps.
“No, not really. Must be the ride.” Actually, I was hot. Very hot. And I could feel the damp spot. I wanted a ride all right. On you know what. My hand accidentally fell in David’s lap. He didn’t react. Other than he had an erection. I didn’t move my hand until the Ferris wheel stopped.
“David, it’s a good thing you’re wearing a long baggy shirt that covers the front of your pants,” I remarked coyly.
“Yes, isn’t it, Sarah,” he agreed, laughing. “It’s all your fault you know.”
“Well, I certainly hope so!” I really, really liked this guy. “Would you like me to do something about it, David?”
“Uh . . .”
“Let’s go for a boat ride, David,” I suggested. “Cruise the lagoons.” There was a place on the far side of the park that rented canoes and row boats.
* * *
We rented the biggest rowboat they had.
David did the rowing. After an hour of insignificant chatter, I mustered up the courage to ask, “David, do you believe in love at first sight?”
“Yes. I wrote about it in my book, didn’t I?”
“You did, indeed. But that was a fantasy, wasn’t it?”
“A fantasy, yes, but the way I imagine that true love can be.”
“Me too! David, your story is so romantic. The best romance novel I’ve ever read, and I’ve read more than a few. It’s awesome, dude!” I felt real juicy.
“Thank you, Sarah. You are so sweet. I mean that sincerely. And so lovely.”
“I know we just met, but I like you a lot. A whole lot.”
“I like you a whole lot, too,”
“Pull the boat over into that secluded area to your right.”
David did. We began to kiss again. He rested a hand on my breast. I took it and slipped it under my ‘I Love Dick’ T-shirt. No bra. I didn’t want to take the shirt off in case another boat got close.
My hand fell in his lap again. Not by accident this time. It was hard. I unzipped his pants, reached inside, and played with him. Then I pulled him out. He had a pretty penis. That’s the only way I can describe it. The prettiest one I had ever seen, and the only one I had ever touched. It felt good. I stroked him gently, fascinated.
“Yes, Sarah? That feels so good. You have such soft, delicate hands.”
“I have a confession.”
“What is it?”
“I’m a virgin. Your penis is the first I . . . ever actually had in my hand, or anywhere else. I don’t know how far I can go. Please be patient with me. But I would like to please you with my hand. Right now.”
He cupped my face with both of his hands. “Whatever you wish.”
We sat in the bottom of the boat facing one another, legs crossed. “David, show me how you like it. Put your hand over mine.”
“You’re doing just fine, but okay.” He covered my hand with his. “Just that this.” He guided me with one hand and tweaked my nipples with the other. “Talk dirty to me, Sarah.”
“Uh . . . I’ll try. Do you like this, David? Do you like my hand on your cock?” I purred. “Rubbing up and down like this. Do you like my breasts? Do you like my nipples? You seem rather amused by them, honey.”
“Oh yeah,” he moaned.
“You can lick and suck my nipples if you want to.” He lifted the shirt by the bottom up to my neck and did just that. All the while I stroked his cock lovingly with his hand over mine. “Would you like me to suck your cock?”
“Oh yeah,” he moaned again.
“One day. One day soon, I’ll put you in my mouth. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Sarah,” he moaned once more.
“You can cum all over my breasts and face. Would you like that?”
“Yes, I would. Very much.”
“You’ll be the first—the first cum I taste. My girlfriend, Jenny, sucks cock. I watched her. I think I know how.”
“You watched her?”
“Yes, I watched her perform fellatio on three frat brothers at the same time at the last big bash of the school year. I watched her do a convict at the factory where we worked earlier this summer. Jenny likes it. She likes to suck cock. She likes cum.”
“I hope you will, too.”
“I know I will. Especially if it’s yours.”
This discussion seemed to make him even harder, if that were possible. He seemed ready to explode.
“Are you going to cum now?” I asked as I stroked him harder.
“Oh man! Oh girl! This feels good! Ahh, rub harder,” he begged. “That’s it. Good girl. Stroke it, girl! Now. . . ahh . . . I’m close . . . I’m ahhhh . . .”
And then it happened. He froze my hand with his just over the head of his penis as it spurted and gushed gloriously. It shot all over the place. A big gob landed on my leg. After I squeezed out every last drop, I kissed him sweetly. “Did you like that?”
“I fetched Kleenex out of my little bag and cleaned up. “Next time I’ll lick and eat it all up.”
“Do you masturbate?”
“Uh . . .”
“I can’t help it. More than ever lately. Usually I go in the bathroom. I call it doing number three.” I tittered.
David laughed and asked, “Would you like to masturbate now?” I nodded. “Well, go ahead. I’d like to watch you.”
“Your wish is my command. This all has made me . . . you know.” I lifted up the front of my miniskirt and slipped my panties down a bit. I began to do it the way I like. I pressed two fingers over my clit and rubbed back and forth vigorously. After a few minutes I spread my lips wide apart with my left hand and with the index finger of my right hand straight like a pencil, I flicked the side of it rapidly across my clit repeatedly.
“Uh . . . yes, David?”
“Can I do that for you?”
“If you want to. Come sit next to me. It will be easier. Hurry up!” He did. I helped his fingers do to me what my fingers had been doing. “That’s good. Real good.” I began to moan deliciously and deliriously.
Then suddenly David stopped. He smelled, licked and sucked his fingers that were just inside me, and sighed as if he were in heaven. I knew then that I would be going to heaven this very day, and hopefully, I would take him with me.
“Cunnilingus appears to be the word of the moment,” he whispered with a smirk. I could only nod.
David knelt in front of me, put his tongue on my clit, and did with his tongue what he had been doing with his fingers, and more. Oh, my God! With his tongue pointed and stiff, he gently flicked here and there, but always came back to my clit. Then he gave my clit quick little sucks. He sucked harder. And softer. And harder. Then softer.
Torture. Heaven. Torture. Heaven.
I lost it. Never mind what I said. Bad, bad words. Except that one I don’t say. But he didn’t stop. As I came down from the first orgasm, he pressed his tongue along the underside of my clit, leaving his lips covering the top. He moved his tongue in and out of my pussy.
David stopped momentarily to comment, “Your hair down here matches that on your head rather perfectly. Pretty pussy.”
“You like it? I trim occasionally. Why, I don’t know. It’s not like anybody ever takes a good look at it. Other than the gynecologist, of course. My mother made me start going a couple years ago.”
“Pretty pussy. Like it? I love it. And I bet you gave the doctor a hard-on.” He went back to muff diving.
“Oh God! That feels so good. I’m going to . . . ahhhh . . . ohhhh . . . oh my dear God in heaven! ” I did cum, wonderfully, again. And as quietly as I possibly could, no matter how many obscenities I wanted to shout. He held my clit between his lips until my quivering and spasms subsided.
I laid my head on David’s shoulder as we both wound down. He told me about his dreams and aspirations and I told him about mine. Then we began to play with each other again, down there. It didn’t take him long to recuperate. Or me.
“Why don’t we do it in the boat?”
“That sounds like a song.”
“It is. I’ll write it. Why don’t we do it in the boat. I like the unknown melody already.”
“But in my book her first time is in the woods.”
“Yes, I know. Well, we could get out of the boat and go into the woods. But we don’t have a blanket. And besides, I don’t feel like being eaten alive by mosquitoes. Ouch! But I wouldn’t mind being eaten alive again by you.” I giggled. Oh, the smile on his face!
“Okay, let’s do it in the boat, Sarah.”
“That’s what I said, David. Do you have condoms?”
“No. I . . . didn’t think . . . that . . . we . . .”
“Well, you thought wrong, buster! But please don’t cum inside me. Pull out when you think it’s necessary. I think I’m rather safe this time of month, but I don’t have a great deal of experience in these matters. None, actually.”
“So you said, Sarah. Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes! This is what I want. Bad! I want you inside me. Now! Take me to heaven.”
“We’ll start side by side. ‘Now and Zen.’ Just relax, and let me get you in the proper position.”
David entered me slowly and carefully. “Ouch!” I screamed. “That hurt just a bit,” I could see a trickle of blood run from my vagina onto his leg. “I think you just busted my cherry. You know, ruptured my hymen.”
“Oh my, I’m so sorry.”
“No worries. Just one objective that had to be accomplished before you take me to heaven. I’m ready now, my angel.”
“Whatever you say, my angel.”
This was great. I could kiss him and he could play with my nipples. But after a half hour I knew heaven wasn’t going to happen this way, either for me or him, and he could also tell.
“Okay, honey, time to take a trip to heaven. We’ll get you off real quick. Get on top.” I did. He adjusted my body a little. “Now lean forward, arch your back, and keep your pussy close to the base of my cock.” I did. “Rock, baby, rock.” I did. His pubic bone pressed up against my clit.
The pleasure intensified each time I rocked back and forth. “Oh my God, David, this feels so good. So good. Ahh . . . so very good. I love your cock inside me!”
Heaven. He took me to heaven. Although I did most of the work. But then, it was his cock that made my pussy smile. This heaven was better than David’s book, although he never described the sex. This heaven was better than I had ever hoped.
I pulled up away from him a few moments after I got off. He hadn’t cum yet. I covered him with my lips. I took him deep down my throat.
I sucked. He went to heaven. When he got to heaven I swallowed as much as I could, and then I pulled him out. With the head of his cock on my tongue, I let him shoot into my mouth as I jerked every last drop out of him with my hand. Then I put him back in my mouth until he got soft.
David wiped the cum that was all over my face and dribbling from my chin with his handkerchief.
“I love you, David,” I whispered softly.
“I love you, Sarah.”
We cuddled and kissed for what seemed like an eternity.
* * *
After we returned the boat we decided to rent bicycles next. We headed for the back roads near the park. I pulled off and stopped to rest a bit after we had just gone over a steep hill.
“Let’s get a room for the night,” I suggested. “And you can take me to heaven again. And again.”
“Can you do that? What about your parents?”
“I told them I was going to visit a girlfriend today who lives nearby. I’ll just call and say I’m staying overnight. Nothing unusual. They won’t even ask for her number. They’ll call on my cell phone if they want to reach me.” I giggled. “But I’ll power it off while I’m on my way to heaven.” It had begun to drizzle. The sun had just set. What you could see of it. “We had better head back.”
“Yes, I think so. You lead and I’ll follow. I’m not sure I remember exactly how to get back Do you know the way?”
“No problem. I’ve been on these roads before. Follow the leader! After all, you showed me the way.” I laughed gaily. “The way to heaven.”
When a car approached from behind I could see the lights. Several passed us on this rather deserted dirt road.
I heard the screech and then the terrible sound of metal hitting metal.
When I stopped and turned around I saw David’s mangled bike and him lying in the middle of the road in a pool of blood. The car’s headlights shone on his body. The driver, an older woman, got out. I ran up.
“I never saw him,” she blurted. “He’s wearing dark clothes.” But there was a light and reflectors on the bike. She looked very old and very scared.
Immediately I called 911 on my cell phone. I bent down and cradled David’s head. The blood. Oh the blood.
“I love you, Sarah,” he could barely whisper.
“I love you, David.” My blue eyes were crying in the rain. So were his. I wiped them away. But more came.
“Take me to heaven, Sarah.”
I kissed his lips. He sighed. I held him tightly. Then he closed his eyes and went to heaven.
* * *
Author’s Note: If you list me as one of your favorite authors, you can easily tell if I have any new stories.