Virginity or virtue. What Really Defines Her?

04. Blood Stains

They say blood stains can tell stories, but not all stories are meant to be told. Some stains are hidden, masked by other truths, some stains are hidden, masked by other truths, leaving only traces for those who dare to look closer. What appeared to be the crimson marks of nature’s cycle were, in fact, the sign of a deeper, more intimate transformation. Not the expected flow of menstruation, but the first and final proof that something new had been unlocked, a rite of passage marked by the breaking of a delicate barrier. These were the stains left behind when innocence gave way to something more complex, something more profound.

The next day, our conversation began with a flirty text from me;  “ IWYDIMM”. He didn’t get it at first, but after a moment, he deciphered the hidden message, and we both smiled at the playful exchange. He then asked if my stomach ache had subsided, and I replied, “oh it was just a pre-period cramp. I think I’m fine now.”

With a bit of boldness, I added, “you know, I feel like fulfilling all my fantasies with you.”

“Ditto,” he responded, matching my energy.

We couldn’t meet for about 10 days due to various reasons, but finally, one day, we managed to make plans. We were exploring hotels in the city, which had become a bit of an adventure for us. It was fun, and I knew I  could rely on him to take care of things.

I know you guys might wonder how I could trust someone so quickly and feel safe enough to be with him. But perhaps I’ve learned to believe in actions more than words where people often mislead and play with emotions in the name of love, we were honest and straight forward with each other.

This time, I had a surprise for him- no, not chocolates, but something that could fit into my sling bag. We had booked the room a day earlier, and as we discussed our plans, I told him, “You know what, I won’t eat anything tomorrow before meeting you, I think last time, because  I had eaten, I couldn’t fully savour the moment”.

He replied ‘maybe”.
We even shared some deep fantasies, and discussing condom flavours became a surprisingly fun conversation.

The next day was unbearably hot, but I couldn’t resist having a glass of sugarcane juice, thinking it wouldn’t be a problem. As I waited for him to pick me up, I felt the heat clinging to me, making me feel like I had bathed in sweat, while he, fresh from his shower, looked effortlessly cool.

As we drove towards the hotel, the desire to reach out and touch him was almost overwhelming, but I held back, letting the tension build. We finally arrived at the hotel, though google maps had misled us, making us overshoot the location by a couple of kilometres.

The delay only heightened the tension between us. Sitting beside him, I could feel the heat rising inside me, a mix of the weather and the desire to be close to him. When we finally reached the hotel and checked in, I couldn’t help but notice that the room wasn’t as nice as the last one.

“The room isn’t even clean,” I remarked, a bit disappointed.

But he, always the playful one, grinned and said, “ I just care about the bed, Not the floor.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling at his cheekiness. “ Wait for me for two minutes,” I said , heading to the washroom with my bag in hand.

When i turned back, I heard him saying
“ jaldi aana haan”.

In the washroom I quickly changed  into the surprise I had brought, a wine coloured dress, knee- length, slightly body hugging with a  bit of a backless design. It was elegant yet seductive, just enough to catch his attention.

When I walked out, his eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of me. “That’s nice,” he said, his voice low and appreciative.

I crawled onto the bed from the opposite side, making my way to him slowly. The room, the heat, the anticipation - it all added to the intensity of the moment. He watched me with a look that was a mix of admiration and desire, his eyes following every movement I made.