Anticipation Ch. 01

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I was a 27 year old virgin, and pretty much a loner.

I had no problem with that, though, because I placed greater importance upon compatibility than I did sex. I never needed help having an orgasm, and I felt “conquests” were disrespectful.

I wanted someone who was actually right for me, as opposed to just sufficiently wanting to be with me.

Also, I wanted a relationship built on a foundation of friendship, which is why I had created the “no physical sex for one year” rule, when it came to new relationships.

For clarity, that meant no vaginal, oral, or anal sex, not that I was terribly interested in plunging my penis, protected or otherwise, into fecal matter.

If the relationship couldn’t last one year, then she was apparently not right for me.

Of course, it was usually a moot point, since I was a picky guy, to begin with. Rarely did I ever feel any kind of… “spark” with anyone.

There was no shortage of girls and women who were sexy, but few who had me valuing time with them over time spent alone.

The word, “friend”, was not one that I threw around carelessly.

One coworker, however, did come closer than anyone else, even though it was mostly confined within the walls of our employment.

Tim was a good guy. He was a Christian, but one that fit none of the negative stereotypes that a lot of people have about them. He never tried force his religion on anyone, and he never judged those who believed differently.

I was agnostic, and was happy to let people think for themselves, as well, and I think that shared trait was what allowed us to be “friends”.

I don’t remember how it came up, but he had off-handedly mentioned that both he and his girlfriend, Mary, were virgins, and within whatever relevance it was to the conversation, I mentioned that I was as well.

The conversation went to “dating”, which was a word that ataköy escort I preferred to avoid. In my view, what separated a “date” from two people just hanging out together doing stuff, was the unrealistic expectation of romance.

“Romance” was another word I tended to avoid, but it was not as bad as “dating”. To me, romance was the natural byproduct of two people who are right for each other.

If you’re consciously trying to be romantic, then your faking it. It’s nothing but a performance with a selfish motive.

But I digress.

Tim told me about a dating website for virgins that had apparently not lasted very long. He had also attended a few church-sponsored mixers for virgins, but it wasn’t long before they failed, because of pretenders.

All these disappointments in people had inspired him and Mary to organize their own gathering, but it would be a secret one.

They were selective about whom they told, and so those people were selective, which ultimately succeeded in being a gathering of only true virgins. It was such a success that they decided to make it an annual event, and he invited me to their second one.

Being a generally anti-social person, I was apprehensive, but I eventually figured it was worth a shot.

A month later I found myself at the public park, looking at the variety of people who had attended. As one might expect, there were more than a few… unattractive people, but a surprising number who were pretty easy on the eyes.

I sat alone at a table and scanned the crowd, while nursing an iced tea, but I never saw anyone who wowed me.

After a time, Tim checked in, asking if I needed anything and if I’d seen anyone interesting. He was not at all surprised that I hadn’t, and then asked if he could get me a refill. I gladly accepted the offer, and then he walked avcılar escort towards the refreshments table with my empty cup.

I looked away from the crowd, giving my attention to the trees and the small creek that cut through the park. Summer was not my favorite season, because of the heat, but it was a decently cool day due to large clouds hiding the sun most of the time.

I’m not sure for how long I had been distracted, but I was startled out of my trance by an unfamiliar female voice.

“Your friend, Tim, said you needed an ice tea refill?”

I turned my head towards the voice, but being a person who generally avoids eye-contact, I looked first to the new cup of tea.

“Yes. Thank you,” I affirmed, accepting the offering, but being consciously aware that I was not looking her in the eye, and not wanting to be impolite, lifted my gaze.

Perhaps the best indicator of my state of mind, after seeing the female in question, would be the fact that the words that absent-mindedly spilled forth from my mouth were, “Tim is a good friend”.

I’m not quite sure what was happening to me, neurologically, but I think I may have seen several tiny star-bursts in my peripheral.

She smiled, gave a little laugh, and replied, “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.”

After regaining a fraction of my composure, and believe me, it was just a fraction, I broke my gaze in order to take a sip of the tea.

There was nothing coherent going on in my mind. Probably the most prominent thoughts in the jumble were “um” and possibly “oh, shit”.

Then she sat down at the table with me. That brought a “what the hell?” bubbling up to the top of my mind.

I’m not a guy who had trouble talking to women, or anyone, really. I was a weird mixture of genuine confidence as well as insecurity.

The only time I really bahçelievler escort faltered was when a woman showed an interest in me. I was a generally reserved person. I did not flirt.

In fact, my behavior was such that I intentionally did not want to give any female even the slightest impression that I might be interested, just to secure against the eventuality, however unlikely, that she might have a glimmer of hope that I might be a viable prospective companion.

At risk of sounding arrogant, I did not want to lead any woman on, even the tiniest bit.

I was not cold to them. I just never invited them closer, so to speak.

A casual question, or two, was not uncommon. I was no prize, but I’ve had a share of girls have a crush on me, though the majority were not ones that I found attractive.

I’ve gotten unsolicited compliments, on my physical appearance, from a few young ladies. I figured I was at least a 6.

My slightly above average looks, combined with my uninviting personality, made the interest of a woman an unexplained anomaly in my mind, ergo, “what the hell?”

Quite honestly, I don’t remember many details about what happened during the five to ten minutes after she sat down, but we had apparently started a conversation which resulted in us sharing why we were still virgins.

I was laying out my philosophy on dating and romance. Most of it she already agreed with, but once or twice I caught a glimmer of thought behind her eyes suggesting that maybe she was learning something new; hearing something that she had not considered, but that made sense to her. I gained some new perspectives from her as well.

But the most amazing part of the conversation; the part that came at me like a truck, was after I had said to her, “I’m not going to ask of anyone anything that I’m not willing to offer of myself, so I have to be what I would hope she would be.”

It was a miniscule change. Her faint smile lessened an almost imperceptible degree, and her eyes widened equally so. In an unconsciously soft tone that betrayed her realization that all the clarity she thought she possessed in her reasoning had just been crystalized in a single sentence, to which her only possible reply could be, “Exactly.”

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