Learning to let go (part 3)This has been a very bad week for me emotionally. I am quite upset writing this post to you – almost on the verge of real tears. I think I told you that this was the week when I had expected to become a real woman. I thought I would lose my girlishness – say goodbye to my virginity and be an equal of my sister, my friends at work, and nearly every other woman on the planet.I had planned that it would happen on Thursday night. That’s when my boyfriend plays basketball in the neighboring sub-division. My Mother always used to say that it was only the “cheap” girls that watched the basketball players at the court. She meant the girls who I used to see disappearing behind the barangay hall afterwards with the tallest and most handsome players, or walking with their men towards the tall cogon grass at the top of the village after dark: their boyfriends hands already eagerly exploring their girlfriends bottoms. I suppose the thought of the village girls stripping naked and fucking on the bare earth like a****ls used to disgust me as much as my Mum. I was a convent girl after all. But I must admit that as I’ve got older the idea has become more and more attractive.So on Thursday afternoon, when I was supposed to be studying hard for my nursing exams, I went down to the local mall and bought myself a pair of new pink and white panties. I could hardly eat my tea I was so Escort excited, my stomach was trembling at the thought of what the night would bring, and so at about 6 pm I slipped out of the house – telling Mum and Dad that I had an important book to buy at the bookstore in town.My heart was pounding when I caught sight of my boyfriend on the court. All I could think about as he moved around was his body – his chest and buttocks, and his healthy looking penis surrounded by its mass of curly black hair. I could see its length moving as he jumped for the ball, and I just wanted the game to be finished.Of course, my boyfriend knew why I was there. There was no point in trying to hide it. I’d never been to see a game before, as I’ve got little or no interest in the sport. So when the game was over, I helped to towel him dry to get him aroused. And in a few minutes we found ourselves round the back of the barangay hall. But the knowing smile he gave to his team mates had already annoyed me, and when we got into the darkness behind the hall we found there was already another couple somewhere in the shadows at the far end. I could hear the giggling of the girl as her boyfriend got her ready. I could just about make out her near nakedness in the bushes.At that point, I suggested that we might go to the new motel that has opened on the edge of town. I still dreamt of having that romantic Escort Bayan bath with him. But he said he couldn’t go there because he hadn’t come prepared with cash and clothes. So then he said we could go instead into the cogon grass, but I was scared in case my Mum, Dad or sister might see us walking up through the sub-division. I was losing my nerve again, just like at the hotel last week…..”I want you”, was the best my boyfriend could say, and at that moment started to press down on my shorts, suggesting that I take them off. His hands were going everywhere, between my legs, up the front of my t-shirt, and down into my panties. I suppose that might have been enough to make me go over the top, but a friend had told me not to give into him, at least not yet, and that was enough to give me the courage to resist him. I grabbed his wrists, told him to stop, and we ended up having a blazing row. I guess, after all the things that were said, I won’t be seeing him ever again.Unfortunately, the break up with my boyfriend wasn’t the only emotional shock I got last week. On Saturday morning, my Mum and sister had gone out shopping, and I was catching up on some course work. I was working really hard to try and forget all about my boyfriend and my sexual urges. But in the quietness of my bedroom I couldn’t help but hear some whispering on the landing. I couldn’t understand why my Bayan Escort Dad and Rose, the girl who came in to help with the washing, should be whispering.Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so curious. But I opened my door quietly and listened. After what seemed like ages, I finally heard the door of the laundry room clicking shut. That again needed an explanation, as usually the door is kept wide open to let the steam out. So I investigated further by creeping downstairs and listening outside the laundry room door. I could hear my Dad’s voice and that of Rose coming from in there. Why would my Dad – my own dear Dad – be in there with a girl about the same age as me? And why should she call him “Daddy”? All I could hear, being repeated over and over again in hushed tones, was “C’mon Daddy…C’mon Daddy”. I felt anger. It was as if my Dad was cheating on me rather than Mum. I concealed myself in the kitchen to see them come out, and was shocked to see my Dad come out about five minutes later completely naked. And through the open door, I could see the figure of our helper putting her panties back on.I’m left wondering whether all that my Mum and Dad told me over the years was just lies. There seems no certainty in my life anymore. Searching round for an excuse for my Dad’s behaviour, I’m reminded of something one of my friends at the hospital always tells me – the one who always complains of a sore kang-kang when she returns from the weekend – that older men need more sex than younger ones. She teases me by telling me how he likes her to dress up and I must admit that I find it exciting. Perhaps I should look for an older man…..