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She pulled the Jaguar off the road at a clearing in the trees. It was near the end of the school year and on that day we had decided to drive up to Mountain Park. We got out of the car and found the entrance of a trail that led into the forest. It was a blue sky day and there was no one else about that we could see. Coming to an open space with a view of the valley below, we sat down on the dry grass, admiring the rolling hills in the distance. There was a chilly breeze swaying through the air and I remember the feel of her thick Irish sweater against my cheek as she put her arm around me and pulled me close. We talked softly, admiring the beauty of spring and the colors of the wildflowers. We had taken many walks over the past few months, each one bringing our friendship closer together. I’d quit hanging out with my buddies. Things felt different, in a way I couldn’t define. After a particularly long, quiet moment, she turned to me and asked, “Have you ever made love before?” Completely surprised by her question, I didn’t know how to answer.
\n At fourteen years old, I thought I knew what she meant, but I had to think back to a year before when a friend asked me if I wanted to have sex. I remember at that time mumbling something approximating a “Yes, please”, shyly nodding my head up and down, and that girl saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how.” Then, she lead me downstairs to the basement to a mattress set up behind the furnace, where she promptly initiated me. It was over in less than five minutes. I didn’t know if that was the same thing as making love, but I answered, “Yes”, to Mrs. Urban’s question. I had to tell her the truth, even if my answer risked lowering her opinion of me. After a brief moment, she stood up, reached out her hand to me, and whispered, “Let’s go.”
\n As we quietly retraced our path back to the car, I knew my legs were moving and I knew my lungs were breathing, but I couldn’t quite grasp the reality of what was happening. It was like I was floating in some kind of dream world. To say my heart was pounding with anticipation and disbelief would have been an insult to understatement. Without a word being spoken we arrived back at the Jaguar, and climbed in, closing the doors. Everything held still for a brief moment, and then Mrs. Urban put the key in the ignition and started the car. As she backed up onto the country road, she glanced at me and smiled.
\n We drove in silence back to her house. It was a fifteen-minute drive and was, without a doubt, the longest fifteen minutes I’d ever known. She pulled the car into her driveway, but before getting out, she reached over and took my hand in hers and gently explained that David, her husband, was away for his annual National Guard duties. He would be gone for a few days.
\n It was a small house, with a small front yard, nicely tended, as were most of the other houses on this quiet street. Entering through the front door, my first impression was how graceful it was. Every space, every wall, every nook and cranny, tastefully adorned. Intelligent people lived here, it seemed to say. Mrs. Urban closed the door behind me and then led me on a quick tour. Once that was done, we ended up back in the living room, in front of the fireplace. “Take your coat off, she said, “I’ll be right back”, and she disappeared into the rear of the house. Draping my coat on an antique wooden chair, and then, not knowing what to do next, I sat down. She was talking from the other room, but I really didn’t listen to what she was saying. I was trying as hard as I could to feel and appear normal. Crossing my left leg onto my right knee and pulling back on that knee with my hands, fingers intertwined, I rocked forward and back hoping it would bring about a sense of casualness. I felt it was crucial, at this stage, to project confidence, as if none of this was a big deal. Then I switched legs, thinking it would be better if I crossed my right leg onto my left leg. But in doing this the wooden chair began to squeak, loudly, when before it hadn’t. Quickly shifting my legs again the squeaking stopped, but now I heard a pounding in my chest that sounded like war drums preparing for battle. I felt a catastrophic embarrassment was about to occur from a panic I couldn’t control, much less prevent. At a total loss, I watched my right foot tap rapidly on the wood floor. And then I heard Mrs. Urban from the back of the house ask me if I liked music, and I heard myself scream, “Yes!”
\n A moment later, soothing classical music began to pipe softly into the room. And then Mrs. Urban appeared, carrying three large comforters and two pillows. She dropped the bedding on the floor in front of the fireplace, then looked over to me and said,
\n “We should light some candles! Why don’t you do that, the matches are on the mantle, and I’ll get the wine. Do you like Sangria?” Not knowing what that was, I said yes. And then, trying to match her enthusiasm and grateful to have something to do, I bounded up from the chair, crossed to the mantle, found the matches, and with trembling fingers, lit the candles. That done, I stood there waiting for what was to come next. Looking down at the comforters in front of me, my hands now tightly clenched in the pockets of my blue jeans, I imagined this could look like we were just about to have a picnic. But of course, I knew better. I knew what was coming. Why pretend otherwise? This is what all the preceding months of courting had led up to. This moment was the final expression of my feelings so innocent, so pure, born in the heart, unplanned but inevitable, with the unshakable knowledge of the beauty we had found within each other, beyond even words to express.
\n Caught up in these thoughts and the magic of that moment, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard her say, “Here’s your wine.” Entering the room, she handed me a glass. Standing close, looking straight into my eyes, she took a sip from her glass. I followed suit, first sipping, then gulping the most delicious beverage that had ever entered my mouth. I felt a sudden flush and light-headedness. Smiling at me, she took the empty glass from my hand, placing both on the table nearby. “Come, let’s spread the blankets.”
\n Feeling a pleasing warmth in my belly, I helped her lay out the three comforters, one on top of the other. Then we placed the pillows near the fireplace. Sensing there was nothing left to do, I struggled to come up with something poetic to say, but having lost all power of coherent thought, I failed miserably. It didn’t matter, because Mrs. Urban stepped over to me, placing her hands gently on my face, and kissed my lips slowly and softly. To me, that was far more poetic than anything I could have said.
\n Within moments, we were underneath the top comforter. I could hear Mrs. Urban murmuring gentle reassurances in my ear, as I attempted, with one hand, to get my jeans down to my ankles. Wanting to sustain the appearance of cool and collected, I decided it was okay to leave my hi-top tennis shoes on. I didn’t want anything to impede this moment. As awkward as this first performance was, Mrs. Urban cuddled me in a warm embrace and calmed my beating heart when she said, “Don’t worry, it gets better.”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
She pulled the Jaguar off the road at a clearing in the trees. It was near the end of the school year and on that day we had decided to drive up to Mountain Park. We got out of the car and found the entrance of a trail that led into the forest. It … <\/p>\n