I was 18 and home on holiday from my first semester at Uni.
She was also 18 and home from uni too.
We had done SSS 2 and 3 together, studied for JAMB together and kissed one or two times. I remember that on one occasion, as we sat in her father’s car and waited for the driver to make a payment at the bank, I had even stuck a finger into her pants and copped a feel of her tightness.
But that was all we could do.
I was not a virgin at 16 but she was and she wanted to be until she turned 18.
“I can’t be having sex when I can’t vote,” she told me one day when tired of kissing I had tried to take off her jeans trousers.
“You read that somewhere abi, in one of these books you carry,” I charged and Celine had laughed, the dimple appearing on her right cheek, her beautiful eyes sparkling.
“You should read them too,” she said kissing me.
“But I read,” I said reaching into my ruck sack for my Hadley Chase novel.
“Hadley Chase is pop fiction. Read something more enlightening.”
I laughed not because I agreed but because I was 17 and in love and everything she said sounded funny even if it was a yab.
We had just finished JAMB and were waiting for university. Celine’s parents were abroad on holiday with her younger brothers and we were home alone. Her auntie who was supposed to be keeping an eye on her had winked at us as she went off to a wedding.
We kissed and touched and she even let me suck her breasts but that was as much as she would allow. Even at 17, Celine was someone who knew what she wanted.
Her parents came back, time passed, JAMB results were announced and we gained admission. She to Ibadan and me to Jos.
We wrote letters, promising each other undying love with Celine insisting that once she turned 18 she would let me ‘dis-virgin’ her.
And she kept her promise.
We had planned it well. The deed would be done on a Saturday, a week after her 18th birthday.
I would come over when her parents would be away at a wedding.
But the day didn’t start out well. First my Dad insisted on me accompanying him to see an uncle whose wife had died. That visit stole two hours of my time and by the time I got to her house, it was past 4pm.
But we weren’t to be deterred.
I kissed her the moment I got in and then we were rolling on the rug as I divested her.
I wanted to f$%k Celine as much as she wanted to but I needed it to be special. So, instead of tearing off her pants and sticking my whatchamacallit into her Kintus, I decided to play lover boy.
I watched as her skin erupted in a rash of goose bumps but then just as she took off her panties and opened her Kintus wide, we heard her father’s car honking at the gate.
Continues next week