By: Britney Cachin

One has to work harder than your average teen to lose their virginity-- with any dignity-- on the campus of a coed boarding school. While this may run counter to your fantasies, there are systems in place to prevent what could easily be rampant rates of teen pregnancy. The kids always find ways around them, but the systems are there to act like speed bumps.

The first time we tried, I made the mistake of trying to sign my boyfriend in for a 'legal parietal' and do things by the book. He was a nice boy, and I didn't want to make him skittish by starting the night out with broken rules. Just when he almost had my panties off, my Junior House Counselor wandered in to "check on me" not realizing that the flip flop wedged in the door was an attempt at sneaky compliance to the, "must keep door ajar the width of a shoe" rule. She entered, pleasantly inquired as to why I was sitting in the dark, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized what was going on.

Needless to say, the mood was spoiled.

On take two, we went the renegade route.

Now I always tell people that I was one of the lucky ones. My high school boyfriend was a sensitive, sweet, athletic, musical, attentive, lovely young man. The kind of guy that was handsome, smart, and unassuming enough to be likable in spite of it all. The kind of guy who never pressured or pushed, and who seemed as eager and nervous for his first time as I was.

We chose his dorm for our illegal escapade-- a building full of 15-19 year old males, predominantly athletes, would had to have seen quite a few girls snuck in and out effectively-- so I made awkward conversation with this dorm- mates in the common room while he scouted out a safe way to his room. (In retrospect, everyone must have known exactly what was going on, and they were all gentlemen enough not to mention it.)

When he came back with one of his hoodies as a disguise, I threw it on and we raced up the stairwell, down the hall, and with a prayer that I wouldn't need to pee, dove behind the door of his room, shutting ourselves in for the main event.

Inside, he was prepared with a Limewire playlist, condoms from the health center, and a selection of take-out menus from which I could order delivery. It was perfect.

For the first time, as things started to get heavy, I understood the term, foreplay. Though I was not a stranger to sex*, I was keenly aware of the social precipice upon which I stood. I'm a woman now, I can remember thinking, body literally shaking with nerves and anticipation, as I watched him slide on the condom (without having to be asked) and move above me, face close to mine.

He asked if I was ready, I told him that I was.

I will never forget that the screen saver was making the room glow a deep aquamarine or that Pretty Ricky sang, "Shorty Will You Be Mine?" as he asked, "am I hurting you?"

"Yes," I'd answered, still breathless with shock, "but it's OK. Don't stop."

We stayed like that, clinging to each other, learning how to move as one-- graceless, laughing, and with great love-- until finally he rolled over and proclaimed," That is amazing, but I can tell that it still hurts you right now, and I have the feeling we'll be doing this a lot.  Let's get Chinese."

After I showed him how much I appreciated his thoughtfulness, we ate boneless spare ribs and pork fried rice, and he played me Spanish guitar-- until we had to plan as escape route that would get me safely back to my dorm before underclassmen sign in.

I felt enlightened, grown up, and very cared for as I turned down his offer to walk me home so I could  call my girlfriends back home and squeal and dish. The first friend I got ahold of breathed a huge sigh of relief when I told her the news. "Britney," she sighed, "I have been waiting for you to do this so I wouldn't be the first one." "Tell me everything."
 

*My First Time is in reference to my first time with a man, in keeping with the heteronormative implication of that saying. My actual first time, technically, was with another young woman, many years prior to this experience. Stay tuned for that hilarious tale of naive baby queers-to-be.
 

The fuqs

• Clear consent and lack of pressure made my first time magical
• When you care about your partner's pleasure-- they will make it their business to see to yours
• Virginity is a social construct, and much like race, knowing this does little to mitigate its social power.      
• Changing the conversation around female sexuality/worth can help to dispel notions like, "not wanting to be the first"