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Happy Friday everyone. This week’s guest blogger is Rohan. He’s an author, a musician and a fun guy! I hope you all enjoy his post and please don’t forget to check out his newest book that was recently released. You won’t be disappointed. 

I have an issue with the word virginity. A concept originally invented to ensure that the child was indeed the husband’s – and entitled to inherit his name and property – as the wife was a virgin when married. Today we have DNA testing and there are no, or very few, illegitimacy laws thank goodness. Children have human and inheritor rights based on their genes and the fact that they exist and not their parent’s marital status at the time of their birth. These days virginity has become the general term used to describe when either a man or a woman first engages in sexual intercourse with another person.

However because everyone has a slightly different definition when it comes to what constitutes sex, it makes the term virginity rather obsolete and makes the loss of virginity much harder to identify. But for the sake of this post the loss of virginity is defined as the moment when a penis entered a vagina. There, I said it…

It was a beautiful winter’s day in Lismore, New South Wales, Australia. However it must be noted that the middle of July in the sub tropical southern hemisphere, is not very wintry at all when compared to more temperate regions. There was no snow or frost, it was chilly, but nothing a light jumper/sweater couldn’t fix. I spent my morning drinking coffee on the veranda looking out over the sacred Aboriginal mountain that rose up in front of the family home. I was 16 years old and a gigging musician. I had left school a few months earlier to pursue a career in music.

“Today is the big day,” I thought as I looked out over the lush foliage “tonight she will come, and we will make love for the first time.” I smiled to myself. Our love was of the forbidden kind. Hence the deception. The plan went like this:

1 – She would tell her parents that she is spending the night at a girlfriend’s place.

2 – She would pick up the condoms (safety first!).

3 – She would arrive and spend the night at my place.

4 – My dad would drive her to school in the morning.

We had a number of counter measures in place. For example if her parents called her friend’s house, her friend would answer and tell them that she was in the shower, but that all was well and she would call them back. The friend would then call my house to let us know, and she would call her folks back from my home phone. Genius!

I had to go to Byron that day with my dad; music stuff. While there we had a coffee with Dan Rumour, and I picked up a Morrissey poster from a record store as he was my favorite artist at the time. Hipster Rohan was into Morrissey before it was cool! On the drive home it rained, I hoped it would rain during our night together. There was, and is, nothing I like more than the sound of pounding rain while I’m drifting off to sleep, and I could only imagine what that would feel like when combined with the sweet embrace of my lover.

We’d been seeing each other for two years on and off. We’d shared so many “firsts” already and so many memories. There was no one more worthy of my first time than her, and I felt humbled and honored that she would choose me to be her first as well.

Back at home I anxiously awaited her arrival. I showered and spent far too long in front of the mirror before hearing her footsteps crunching across the gravel path. I greeted her. The plan was working! Never had I felt such anticipation and excitement as I did that day. We ate, we talked, we took a stroll around our three acres and as the sun set we retired to my bedroom. “This is it!” my heart raced as the realization fully dawned on me that the next morning I would wake up having made love with another for the very first time.

We were so naive and curious. We got undressed and into bed together. In my haste I tossed her lace slip onto my lamp and a few seconds later the delicate material had melted to the hot bulb. Smelling the fumes I quickly removed it. The slip was destroyed, but nothing mattered that night. We laughed. She asked me to get out and stand naked on the opposite end of the room. I obeyed, and there it stood, as nature intended, displayed for her. Here eyes widened, I heard her whisper “Wow”. I ran back to bed and we giggled. I asked her to do the same. She stood by the bed and made a 360 degree rotation, like the twirl of a young woman asking for a friends opinion of a new dress.

What followed was possibly the most memorable night of my life, and one which still brings a broad smile to my face every time I think of it. I am acutely aware that very few people are so lucky as to have a first experience of the caliber of mine and her’s. I feel blessed that on that day the universe conspired, whether through random chance or divine guidance, to provide such an sublime sensory scenario. A lifetime contains only a handful of perfect days. This was one such day. It rained that night, and we drifted off to sleep curled up in each other’s arms to the pitter patter of water falling onto a corrugated iron roof.

The next morning I awoke first, still holding her tight in my squishy single bed. I savored the few minutes before her eyes opened, and kissed her when they did. We made love again in the morning and then it was time for school. I helped her dress and gave her something to eat. Then it was in the car and off. At the school I hugged her and kissed her goodbye. Class was starting and I watched her sprint toward home room.

Back at home I sat on the veranda, in a pleasant foggy daze. I rolled a cigarette and took a sip of coffee overlooking the sacred Aboriginal mountain and smiled serenely.

A week later I received a phone call. It was her. Her voice was weak and warbling, she was crying. From a phone booth she told me it was over. That it would be too hard to keep going, that her parents wouldn’t allow it. We said goodbye, we understood that this would happen, we were thankful for the time we had. But it still hurt like hell.

I hung up the phone, I found my guitar, a pen and my pad and I wrote this song.

Although it was over, I’ll never, ever forget the day that love seemed possible in very possible way.

Thanks for reading, all the best!

Rohan.

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