Friday, August 31, 2012

Your First Love

Who doesn't remember their first love? Maybe it was a crush you never had the guts to speak to, or was it the first time you got asked out, got kissed, or do the dirty? It's different for everyone, and sometimes what one person feels as 'love' means nothing to another. Sometimes, a preconceived notion of 'love' may skew someone's view on whether or not they have ever been in love.
Here are Salome's and Donovan's views on their first loves, in great detail.

Your first love – in great detail
Salome –
I must admit I have never been in love, at least not in the romantic sense. I have loved my family, and my close friends, but I have never met a gentleman who stirred any sort of romantic interest on my part. That is not to say that I do not desire to fall in love, my parents were a great example to me of how wonderful it can be, but I am far too practical to think of finding love.
In choosing a spouse, I am looking for financial security, some common interests, and a decently handsome face. I would not want an ugly husband, because I know what is expected of me in the bedroom, and would not wish for wifely duties to be distasteful. I am under the impression they can be quite pleasurable, in fact. I must admit some curiosity on my part when it comes to this.
Therefore, I would hope for a measure of experience, but I would expect fidelity. I value loyalty and honesty above all things, so a mistress for my husband would be out of the question. It would seem that in the course of my search for a husband, I should practice my charms.
Of course, while searching for eligible bachelors to investigate in my search, I would be remiss if I did not mention more than a passing interest in one Donovan Tremaine, the Earl of Verney. Perhaps it is because he is also an American, or perhaps because his appearance is rather exotic and unique, but when I viewed him from a distance, it struck in me a very great desire of a sort I have never felt before. Having now read his file, I would deem him eminently suitable in every aspect I have described for my future husband, so I think I shall pursue him to see if a mutual interest develops.
Perhaps I am employing too scientific a method in my search, but I do not feel that a wholly romantic entanglement would suit my purposes. Far too often, one is disappointed in love, so I shall not hope for that, merely a companionship that may develop into softer feelings over time.

I can’t say whether I have actually been in love, per se. I can recall the first time I felt a romantic attraction, and certainly I could describe my first physical experience.
Let me start with the first time I found myself attracted to someone. No, take it back farther, when I was a boy, maybe seven years old, there was a girl who lived down the street from us. I remember thinking she was the sweetest thing, she had brown hair that her mother always braided into pigtails, and she had freckles across her nose. Her mother was a fisherman’s wife, as we lived near the ocean, and I can recall her voice even now shouting for her daughter to come inside and tend to chores.
However, this little girl was more interested in playing out of doors, usually tagging along with the boys. She would never admit that she was incapable of doing anything that we boys could do, whether it was climbing trees or daring each other to tease the bull in a farmer’s pasture. She climbed onto a horse once and rode it with her skirts hiked up to her knees, and her mother chastised her for playing so rough and tumble. I always admired her courage.
Her father died at sea, and her mother moved away, so I don’t know what happened to the little girl, but I will never forget her. To this day, I can appreciate a woman who is strong, and unwilling to admit she is any less capable than the men around her.
Which brings me to the first woman I ever experienced the physical side of love with. I had journeyed to Baltimore with my father to look at some new models for ships that he wanted to build, and had some free time to explore the city. I was about seventeen years old, and though I appreciated the female form, I had never had opportunity to engage with a woman.
While wandering through some shops, I overheard a woman arguing with someone. She was a shopkeeper, and she was debating a deal with a customer. The man was being insufferably rude, and the woman was trying to convince the man to leave her shop, which he was refusing to do. I stepped inside, and asked if the woman would like some assistance. She gave me a look and told me to bugger off, that she could handle herself. In no uncertain terms, she gave the man what for, and he threw up his hands and finally left on his own.
At this point, the woman turned to me and apologized for speaking to me so harshly. She explained that she was tired of men who thought she needed saving, when she was quite capable of conducting business herself. She was not the most beautiful woman, though I remember she had beautiful hair. I told her that I had no doubts that she could handle the man, all the same I did not like the way he had been speaking to her, and I was raised to treat others with respect.
She smiled at me, and I could feel something within me change. I looked at her in an entirely different light then, and my youthful urges came to the fore. We talked a little while longer, and I explained that I was in town with my father on business. She was a widow and had gone into business for herself after her husband passed away.
Before I knew what was happening, the woman closed up shop and invited me to her apartments upstairs for a bite to eat, as I had not had luncheon yet. Over the meal, she continued to talk, and she started giving me inviting looks. Her fingers touched my arm at one point, and she proceeded to seduce me in a subtle way. I had no idea what I was doing as she leaned forward and kissed me, I just knew that I was aroused in a way I had never been.
When she took my hand and led me into her bedroom, undressing me as we went, my conscious thoughts fled, and before I knew it, we were on top of the bed, and her breasts were in my hands. I shall not go into further detail, but I left the shop a short while later, a completely different man. I knew what it was my father’s workers were always laughing and joking about, and now saw the world with new eyes. The mysteries beneath a woman’s clothes were now more inviting and intriguing than ever.
Though I never met the shopkeeper that introduced me to the pleasures of the flesh again, I will never forget her for being so strong and forward. She took what she wanted from life, and there is something incredibly appealing about a woman who is comfortable in her own skin and not afraid to display her confidence. All of the quiet, simpering women I have encountered who I am sure will make quite suitable, placating wives are simply not appealing to me.
That is not to say I like a woman who uses her attractions and talents in a devious way. Scheming harlots are not my style, either. I stay away from women of the streets because they share their charms with anyone who has enough coin, and the women of the ton who are likely to invite men to share their beds are always after something.
I took a mistress when I came to London because I needed someone to introduce me to Society. Madeline wanted me for her own purposes, partly for my body, and partly because I was an outlying variable that she could brag about. We used each other, and when I no longer needed her, I dismissed her. It really amounted to a business exchange, though she took it badly, I have no regrets.
My friends have pointed out that I should seek a bride to carry on the family name. I am not sure what to think of that, but I do know that the woman I marry must be my equal. Not as far as status necessarily, but I would like my wife to be my partner in everything. I want her to be strong enough to stand her ground when she believes in something, intelligent enough that I can turn to her for advice, and confident enough that we can enjoy each other in the bedroom without holding back. The same sort of woman who took me in hand when I was seventeen years old and showed me what physical love was all about, and the same sort of woman who never lets the boys get the best of her like the little girl of my youth. Impossible perhaps, but that is what I wish for in my wife, and the woman who can do all of that is the woman I am likely to fall in love with.

Aren't they eminently suited for each other? Whether he knows it or not, Salome is just the kind of woman Donovan is looking for, and he is just the kind of man she needs to wake her up, romantically speaking.
So what about your first love? Any stories?

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