This week, we have to write a short story about 1-3 pages long. Here's my story.  

Karen Pops Her Cherry

              “Oh good Lord, this feels great!” Karen moaned. She was sure that the Almighty wouldn’t mind her using His name in vain just this once.

            She heard Steve laugh from above. Then he nuzzled her neck. He smelled so damn good. The February sun streaked through the blinds and formed bright strips across their entwined bodies.

            Until recently, Karen had vocally dismissed this kind of behavior as “impure”. As the only child of Catholic parents who were unaware that there had been a sexual revolution, she was taught that losing her virginity was only permitted on her wedding night.

“No one wants to use a dirty napkin,” her mother would admonish.

Karen had lodged that chestnut into her heart, unlike the vast majority of her peers at Our Lady of the Rosary School for Girls. During college, her friends tried to get her drunk enough to give Joey Primanti a hand job, but even while intoxicated, Karen held firmly to her belief that “good girls” didn’t do “that”. Her Prince Charming would appreciate the fact that she had saved herself for her wedding night. At least she wouldn’t have chlamydorrhea or whatever it was.

Yet year after year, men by the dozens had slowly backed away when they found out Karen was intent on being a virgin until marriage. On her 40^th birthday, she found herself on the floor, alone and crying in the kitchen, hugging a box of cheap Chardonnay. She had played the role of the consummate “good girl.” Wasn’t she supposed to be married to her knight in shining armor by now, reveling in his admiration for her sexual repression and living happily ever after? It seemed, as the Magic 8-ball would say, “Very doubtful.”

Karen had met Steve at Bungalow’s while playing pool last week. He had reached behind her for his beer and her body buzzed as he flirtatiously caressed her waist. They exchanged numbers that night, but Karen went home alone.

“I WANT YOU NOW!” Steve had texted a few days later.

“How about Sunday? After brunch,” Karen texted back.

She didn’t tell Steve that she was a virgin. Given how ephemeral their attraction was, it seemed unnecessary. Karen realized that she wouldn’t mind if Steve never called her again. In fact, she hoped he wouldn’t. No need to get attached. Her life was no longer a fairy tale and there were no expectations of a fairy tale ending.

She didn’t go to Steve’s house to lose her virginity. Karen just wanted to feel fully alive, even if it meant going to Hell. Of course, after 40-plus years of celibacy, the concept of Hell started to seem more appealing than the consequences of marinating in loneliness. In any case, Karen had concluded that Prince Charming was a unicorn; a mythical creature that people would swear existed but no one had ever actually seen.

She yawned and stretched out in the bed while Steve picked up the comforter, which rested in a tangled heap on the floor, and wrapped it around them. After a short nap, Karen kissed his chest and climbed over him. He watched, as she got dressed, then pulled her down to the bed and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“If you don’t mind, just make sure the door is locked after you leave.” Steve pulled the comforter over his chest and rolled over.

            As Karen stepped outside onto the landing, a snowy chill nipped her flushed cheeks. She remembered Dr. Wong’s puzzled expression during her physical exam last month. The doctor had given Karen a prescription to get an ultrasound.

            “Don’t worry,” Dr. Wong had smiled. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

            The follow up CT scan had shown a metastatic ovarian tumor had taken over the better part of her abdominal cavity.

“Six to eight months… hospice… ” She heard someone say.

            As she walked out of Steve’s complex, Karen looked wistfully at an older couple holding hands, but she figured it was too late to regret what she did with her life and too early to mourn what she hadn’t. The only feeling she could muster that wintery afternoon was gratitude.