I was a Summerfolk Virgin
I was seduced by the language of the night.
My senses caressed by sounds and words.
I gave up myself to the night, I opened myself to the world risking exposure but gaining intimacy.
It began simply as a clinical examination. Everyone was doing it and I wanted to know why. I hadnít done it before and those who had, seemed changed by the experience. It was frightening. But I needed to understand what the fuss was all about, was it really better than anything else done.
I told some friends I was planning on doing it. I told my boss I was doing it. He told me heíd been doing it for years, with his wife. He laughed, in a strange way, and told me I would enjoy it too, and that yes it was to be experienced first hand. He even expressed interest in watching me do it. I shivered.
I decided my first time should be by myself, it was safer that way. No entanglements, no misunderstandings and the encounter would be solely mine. It was lonely, but I had to be in control.
I arrived early; I stood with others seeking the experience. I shied away. I was afraid to admit my virginity, opening myself for the looks of disbelief.
I opened my mind and my body to the environment around me. Smells, sounds, sights all threatened to overwhelm me. I staggered under the assault. I needed a new approach to prevent sensory overload.
I began using only one sense at time. Looking around I saw people everywhere, and they were all doing it. They were happy, laughing, interacting. They were doing it as couples, friends, groups. They were young, old, tall, and short, it simply didnít seem to matter as long as you were doing it.
I could smell the coconut of sunscreen, the grease of crisp french fries, the grass burning under the summer sun. Leather mixed in with wood. The waft of warm beer surged through the crowd on the winds of friendship.
I closed my eyes. I opened my ears. Laughter was everywhere; the air sizzled with tones and notes beyond the normal range of human understanding. Underlying the human clamor was a sirenís song. It pulled and tugged and dragged me over the hill. There, before me lay hundreds of people, thousands of people and there were all doing it, together.
I was stunned; I wanted to run, to hide. There was too much passion, too much obsession. All those people, together, moving in concert with each other. I sank to my knees, the grass coarse against my bare legs, the sun relentless upon my body. Sweat beaded, but I didnít care, I just wanted more. The man beside me offered me a corner of his blanket. I leaned into its embrace and gave myself up to the experience. Entranced, I let go, surrendered myself.
I was no longer a Summerfolk Virgin