Pluck the Virgin

I was skeptical, to say the least, of Susan's claims of "hymenhood"-my smart ass term for virginity. She had studied in London, she said on a Fulbright. She had been in travelling marching bands, gone to Marshall and Vanderbilt, yet had claimed when she met me that she had alternately either never even been kissed or only kissed briefly in a utility closet by an older, married male co-worker when she was doing floor nursing in West Virginia. I had actually been with a couple of virgins and she certainly did not feel like one. On the return to good health after the kidney stone passed, Susan decided to reward me for my patience. She greeted me at the door in negligee with a cascade of kisses when I arrived at her condo, and for the first time, she had candles burning everywhere. Had this become a shrine to what she was supposedly about to sacrifice? She whisked me into the bedroom, saying I was "gonna get the whole cup of coffee, tonight." As I was undressing, I understood the implications of what we were about to do and realized that I didn't have a condom. I asked, "You wouldn't happen to have a rubber, would you?" Anticipating a response in the negative from my "untouched" partner, I was already putting my clothes back on for the one block trip to Walgreen's to buy some prophylactics. Susan was saying, "Stay there-I might be able to find something, but by that time, I was standing behind her, slipping back into my loafers. She turned around with something in her hand and anger in her eye and said, "I told you to stay in the bedroom." She tried to close her entrance hall closet door, but I couldn't help but see she had taken a rubber out of a box that held a gross (144) of them. I blurted out, "Man that's a lot of condoms. Is that standard virgin equipment?" She said with some resentment that they had been part of her public health class at Marshall and she did not want them to go to waste. I replied, "So, you knew one day your prince would cum or was it more a girl can hope can't she." This was the start of December 1995 and I noted the condoms expiration was January 1999-unlikely from a public health class in the late eighties-and half empty, evidently someone had got some use out of them. Well, I put one on that night and the coffee was hot.