I was three weeks shy of my 18th birthday when I gave up my virginity. I didn't lose it, mind; I know exactly where it went. For whatever reason, I had decided to give it up sometime before the date when it would have been, arbitrarily, legal to do so.
Unbeknownst to my designated "recipient", the process was all carefully orchestrated.
Jim and I had been dating for about a year. He was much older than I, around 22 to my 16, and glamorous because of it. He was a reporter for our local morning newspaper; back in the day, most metropolitan areas of any size had both a morning and an evening newspaper. We attended concerts and other events when he was "comped" the tickets. We also went to clubs to dance and hear live music. Despite my age, we were never bounced out and I was exposed to a lot of very good jazz and blues.
Our physical relationship was limited to kissing and touching because he was extremely sensitive to my age and extremely reluctant to go to jail. I know he also dated other, older, women and I dated classmates; but we spent a good deal of time together and grew close as friends.
When the time came, I knew that I did not want to find out what sex was all about from someone who knew as little as (or less than!) I did; it had to be someone who was experienced and who would and could take the time to help me learn more about my own body. Jim, I decided, would be perfect for this: he was experienced, he knew me, we liked each other, he was gentle, he cared about me.
During my freshman year at college, the Guarnieri Quartet was in residence and gave occasional concerts as well as teaching and leading seminars for the advanced music students. I invited Jim to to attend the concert and to see my school. We arranged for him to stay at the motel next to campus. After a nice dinner, we listened to wonderful music for a couple of hours; then I suggested a night-cap at his motel room. Jim was a little surprised by this, but definitely game! Conveniently, there was a liquor store just down the road from the motel and we bought a bottle of his favorite, bourbon, to take with us.
Here is where we fade to black for a while ... the exact details are for his memory and mine. I did tell him that I had signed out of the dorm for the night so that curfew (we had that too, back in the day) wouldn't be an issue. Suffice it to say, the experience was lovely, sweet, wonderful and memorable. My "first time" involved waking up in the arms of my lover rather than fumbling for zippers in the back seat of a car.