We drove around for a while, and then parked out in a field. I had a blanket, so we lay on it for a while, and pretty soon we were both mostly undressed and feeling extremely horny again. I told her that it was just incredible in the pool, and that I'd really wanted to have intercourse with her. She said (to my utter amazement at the time) that she wanted to have it too, and that today was the first day after her period. She'd read somewhere that the first three or four days were almost always safe (an allusion to the rhythm method I guess).
I said I had read that somewhere too, and did she still want
to have intercourse. She nodded silently, and we had intercourse. I
was freaking out and, much to my later disgust, mostly concerned
with myself. She lay passively, and it took me a long time for me to
ejaculate by my own motion; meanwhile she was having quite a bit
of pain, as it was her first time too. So there I was, eighteen and no
longer branded with that terrible label, virgin. The early effects
were mainly that I felt guilty that I had satisfied my own 'lust'
while she was in pain, and that nagging little possibility of getting
her pregnant. The first was soon okay in my mind as I apologized to
her, and she told me 'not to let it bother me'; and the second worry
was over after her next period. Other than those two things, I was
pretty happy, glad that she wanted to have intercourse with me,
glad that I was no longer a virgin.
Almost uncontrollable desire, love for each other, the desire to "prove their
love," to do the other a favor, and the fact that others are doing it, are factors used
to justify coitus.
The petting got heavier and harder to stop. It was also hard to
understand why we should stop, especially when we knew that
several of the couples we doubled with were having intercourse and
that their relationships seemed to be profiting from it. We talked
about it many times, and every time it seemed a little more right. It
seemed to be the way we were looking for to express and
communicate our feelings for each other. We tried not being alone
together for a few weeks, but that was unsatisfactory to both of us.
Right before graduation, we had a long and serious talk about it.
Right or wrong, we thought we knew what we wanted.
We were almost obsessed by the idea; it seemed to be always in the back of
our minds. We believed that if fulfillment would eliminate the
tension and anxiety that we felt when we were alone, it would be
worth all the chance we would be taking. We rationalized by
deciding that if anything unexpected should happen, we would be
able to handle it, since we would be graduating very soon. We tried
to justify our decision by saying that we were doing it out of love
and with sincere attitude. We also thought about being a thousand
miles away from each other when we went to school (college), and
there seemed to be a great deal more in favor of our being intimate
than against it. We went through with our plans, and it all seemed
so wonderful at the time.
Each time we were together, I knew we were approaching a time
when neither of us would be able or willing to control our
passionate emotions toward each other. Finally, he could stand the
frustration no longer, and said we could both prove our love by
having intercourse. I consented to his demand. I can still picture
how actually frightened we both were. That first attempt was
definitely unsuccessful, but in the many months following, it
became a natural and wonderful occurrence for us.
I dated my girlfriend about once a week, and saw her one other
night a week, for about two months. Necking and petting grew
increasingly more passionate during this time, resulting in my
attempting intercourse. I was-to my surprise-however, stopped.
She said that she did not want to get pregnant, and I accepted this
as a good reason. The next day I purchased three rubber
prophylactics from a friend of mine who worked in a gas station.
That night in her house again (her parents were gone)-I
attempted intercourse again.