It was a matter of great pride to me to have been the first in my group of friends to have had sex with a girl. I was “only” 15 and in the fairly conservative cultural milieu I grew up in this was quite an achievement. The norm – even for cool kids – was more like 18-21. Men/boys are competitive like that. The highlight of the story however is not when or to whom I lost my innocence but rather the location where the said deed took place.
As mentioned I come from a cultural group that got Calvinism with our mothers’ milk. Just about all kids went to church from age 7 onward – even if it was just the kindergarten version of it and even if the parents never went (like mine). At school there were daily prayers and a compulsory subject called Bible study. This has all changed since my days (1984 to 1995) but the inherent conservatism remains to this day in the souls of my people. Of course I was one of the first kids to smoke, try beer and slip out at night to hitchhike to punk night clubs. These things I did with a couple of bosom buddies – all members of my punk rock band. While I didn’t fall into the official cool kids group until I was 16, my friends and I had attained a good measure of alternative coolness through our musical exploits (we played in clubs that we couldn’t even have entered legally). I think it was this rebellious lead singer image that drew the attention of the pretty blond girl who was one grade ahead of me at school.
We used to have these (fairly lame) school hall parties where kids mostly danced in the formal “windsurfing” sense of the word. But hey, it was at night, without too much adult supervision and it gave you the chance to strut your style in civilian clothes as apposed to the everyday school uniforms. And there was rock music – a factor that I believe made me and my teenage companions even hornier (and that’s saying a lot given our already out of control hormones). Anyway, this girl had clearly picked me (at least for that night) and she charmed the pants right off me. Since my plans for the evening had in any case included slipping past the invigilators at the gate to visit the nearby black bootleg pub, I was only too happy to invite this girl along since she had made the bold effort to talk to me for longer than a minute (by teenage rules she was thus clearly into me!). Besides, she loved The Doors so she had already passed my social litmus test. We went for a quart of beer, two white kids among the black middle aged crowd at the back of a block of flats. It was during the drinking that she put her hand on my thigh and I responded in kind. Now the only question was where to take her for the signed and sealed make-out session.
The place opposite to the bootleg pub was a tried and tested public space that provided relative privacy. It was a branch of the most conservative church within the generally accepted family of Protestant churches in our cultural frame of reference. We crossed the street hand in hand and headed into the church grounds. Then we had to pick a spot that was out of view from potential pedestrians in the adjacent street and I’m not sure how/who chose the exact location but…it was right on the church steps in the little square made up of a wall, railing and the door to this most holy place. We started kissing, then moved onto groping each other’s private parts and finally I pulled off her jeans and proceeded to lick her genitalia. It didn’t have much of a taste but the light colored pubic hair and moistness of it was enough to make me loosen my trousers and pull them down over my buttocks. All this I did while licking and kissing her – it was supposed to be a sneaky move from which I could move back up to her mouth again while slipping into her unexpectedly (most girls I knew would’ve protested penetration – I’d had that verbal negotiation enough times to make me expect resistance). When I penetrated (on the first try!) I felt the most blissful slippery warm embrace, one that hugged my very soul. I looked her in the eye to see if this was okay with her and it turned out that it was more than okay. She wanted it – had planned it. I began thrusting all the while thinking to myself “I’M HAVING SEX!!!”. I could hold my ejaculation, probably because of all my practice masturbating. I didn’t know what would make it feel good for her but I recalled a Cosmo article I’d read and tried to thrust in that way. To this day I don’t know if it made any difference. But the main thing was she seemed to enjoy it. We tried another position before returning to the good old missionary for my finale.
What I regret most today is that Calvinism won in the end. When she approached me at school the next day I just wanted to get away from her. Why? It was that fucking church dogma that had pervaded my childhood. Somehow sex was shameful. We fucked once more during one of my band’s jamming sessions but I could never bring myself to couple with her – she was just too far removed from the image of the virtuous woman, I think. Now I wish I’d taken the time to get to know her, her personality, her dreams, her fears, what she was proud of and what she was ashamed of. I console myself with the thought that I lost my virginity right on the bloody church’s doorstep!