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Before the first song concluded, Jason traced the contour of my lips with his fingertips, and then our kiss began. We had kissed hundreds of times before, but this one was different. It was as if there was an exchange of souls. We became one entity as our tongues intertwined in a dance of their own.
Jason scooped me up into his arms, carried me over to the bed, and laid me down gently. He climbed on top of me, and I pushed his jacket down over his shoulders and off. “I love you, Jason.”
“I love you too, Zoe.” He took my hand and kissed my palm while I turned on my side so he could easily unzip my dress and slide it over the curves of my body until it was completely removed.
The way he undressed me was so provocative. He was so gentle and took so much care with me, like I was a newborn baby. When he was done, I returned the favor. Once we were both nude, we sat on my bed face to face and placed a hand over each other’s hearts, feeling the rhythm of our heartbeats coincide. It was the most intense, arousing experience.
We started kissing again as he laid on top of me, and for the first time our private parts brushed up against one another with no clothes in between them. The warmth of his body made my heart flutter and my skin tingle.
The anticipation of making love for hours on end was overwhelming. I had waited so long for the moment to arrive and had envisioned it thousands of times—no, make that millions of times—in my mind. I was expecting us to explore every inch of one another with our hands and tongues, make love in every position known to man, and pass out from pure exhaustion.
What happened instead was a complete catastrophe. First, Jason got nervous because we didn’t have a condom. “Zoe, what about protection?”
“It’ll be okay. Just pull out real quick when you feel like you’re about to cum.” I was tracing the curvature of his chest with my tongue, knowing my womanhood would finally be endorsed at any moment.
“Ummm, I don’t know about this, Zoe. Maybe we should wait until we have some protection.” He was trying to push me off him, but at the same time not putting up much resistance to my advances.
“Jason, do you want me to beg you? Is that it?”
“No! Hell no!” I started moving my hand up and down the shaft of his thick, long dick and rubbing the precum escaping from the head around with my thumb. “I’ll make sure I pull out in time.”
He stuck it in, and it hurt like all hell when my hymen broke. Two minutes and about thirty pumps later, he pulled it out, and I wanted to scream. I lay there, thinking to myself, “Is this all I get?”
Jason told me he loved me, and I reciprocated. Then we just laid there, in dead silence, with his head on my left breast. A whole hour passed, and neither of us mentioned the prom, or anything else for that matter. I was depressed and Jason was . . . I have no idea what Jason was. I got up and searched through my purse for a cigarette. Smoking was a habit I’d picked up when my daddy died as a method for relieving stress. I was damn sure stressed after my first sexual experience—stressed, disappointed, humiliated, and depressed.
Before he drifted off to sleep, he expressed his concern. “Geesh, Zoe, I hope I didn’t get you pregnant.”
“Don’t be silly, Jason. No way am I pregnant! Never that!”
chapter
eight
What can I say? Never say never!
Whoever said you can’t get pregnant by having sex just one time lied like all hell, ’cause my ass sure got knocked the hell up. Ain’t that a bitch?
In one sense, it really didn’t matter all that much since Jason and I were planning to get married in a few months anyway. On the other hand, all the plans Jason and I had precisely worked out for the future went out the freakin’ window. Everything, except the marriage itself, had to be reconsidered.
I just knew my mother was going to hit the roof when she found out, but much to my surprise, she informed us that she knew it was gonna happen all along. Jason’s parents had pretty much the same reaction. I guess none of them were astonished because they all assumed we had been sexing each other for years and had just been lucky I didn’t get knocked up sooner. Our friends all took it in stride as well. From the looks of it, everybody in the world except Jason and I was predicting my impregnation.
Instead of having an elaborate wedding, we opted for a small ceremony in my mother’s backyard the weekend after our graduation from Central High School. I was three months and not showing yet. Brina was my maid of honor, and Cordell was Jason’s best man. That was the last time I saw the two of them together, because they broke up while Jason and I were on our honeymoon. To this day, neither one of them will discuss what happened.
It was a quaint, romantic, and intimate ceremony attended by our families and close friends. Our parents chipped in together and sent us on a week-long trip to the Bahamas as a combination wedding and graduation gift.
Our honeymoon turned out to be a culmination of fun-filled days and sexually repressed nights. After prom night, Jason and I never had sex again until after the wedding. To be honest, as much as I craved to be close to him in every way, I wasn’t looking forward to another sexual disappointment. On my honeymoon, that’s exactly what I got—a series of sexual disappointments, in fact. It is such a strange feeling to love someone more than you love your next breath and yet be appalled when they touch you. Don’t get me wrong: Jason never turned me off. He just never turned me on either. Not the way I needed to be turned on.
While they say a mind is a terrible thing to waste, they neglect to mention that a body is a terrible thing to waste also. Especially when it’s a body like Jason’s. My husband’s past gorgeous and way past fine. In fact, I can’t even think of a word that would do him justice. He’s a far cry from the little knucklehead I got in a fistfight with the day we met. To make matters worse, he has a scrumptious dick. He just doesn’t know how to use it.
I had been working after school part-time at a fast food joint, and Jason worked with the county recreation department. We both had plans to attend college, and one of us did—Jason. I chose to pursue full-time employment as an administrative assistant and worked for a dentist’s office all the way through my pregnancy.
Jason had a full basketball scholarship to State, and we stuck with that plan. His major was architecture, of course. The times he was out of town at away games were dismal, but Brina and my mother tried their best to keep me in good spirits. As horrible as our sex life was, the little bit of satisfaction I was garnishing from being close to Jason was unavailable when he was away.
In fact, the further I got into my pregnancy, the more sexually repressed I became, and desperation set in. Simple masturbation was no longer good enough, so I began to play with toys. You name it, and I had it hidden away in a box on a closet shelf where Jason couldn’t find it— everything from a dildo to a vibrator to Ben Wa balls. My fascination with sex was quickly turning into an obsession.
“Jason!”
“Yes, Boo?” He was holding my hand, caressing it gently and using his other hand to dab the sweat away from my forehead with a moistened towel.
