Upset? Not at all. She was brimming with the idea of not being upset on the day of her fathers' birthday. For they were off to a ball-of-sorts; really, just a huge piss up and a buffet lunch. It was the type of bourgeois meal that was so bourgeois that it became a portrait of middle class femininity with the occasional bloke thrown in just for good measure. So on this one day, Lorelai told herself not to get upset. She would be the picture of the perfect mother-like daughter she had been bought up to be, instead of the maudlin, anti-social black sheep she knew herself to be. She would get up and talk to others around the table. She would not glare at her mother through the terribly large centrepiece. Well, she would not obviously glare at her mother through the horrid flowers. But she knew that despite this effort, she would still be reamed out later for her lack of social grace in the presence of 'good people'.
The one good thing about this type of lunch: booze. This brunch in particular was a champagne brunch, which pretty much means that your glass is never empty, despite the huge gulp you just had. It magically reappears, followed by another, and another, until you forget how many you've had in the first place. It was perfect for this kind of…uncomfortable….surrounding. Lorelai's fathers' birthday was seen to be an occasion meant for decadence, and familial recuperation. Which would inevitably blow back into the face of her mother. The problem with the good thing about the brunch? Somebody always ends up crying, someone always ends up starting irrelevant arguments, and someone always ends up shagging someone they shouldn't be. Lorelai had never been sure which route to follow. Follow A, and you end up with five family members trying to be consoling but ending up more patronising than anything. Follow B, and you end up the black sheep of the family until the next brunch. And last, follow C, and you are sure to get pregnant and therefore be the black sheep of the family…..until the next brunch, when it all starts over.
She had been fruitlessly attending brunches like these since she was about ten years old; until she was fourteen, it was fruit juice and watching the drunk upper-middle class socialites banter. But one year ago, on her fourteenth birthday, her mother had decided that it was now appropriate for Lorelai to drink alcohol. Of course, for the first five or six brunches she was watched with her mothers' fierce eyes, but Louise was well learned in the art of sneaking little bottles of vodka into social gatherings, a trait she usually shared with her boyfriend of two months, Christopher.
Christopher was seemingly perfect. They had known each other since they were babies with pacifiers, arguing over who got the red plastic cup of juice and who got the blue. Lorelai had broken up with her first boyfriend at age thirteen, and three months later took up with Christopher. Her mother irrevocably hated both Daniel and, when they began dating, Christopher, as it was deemed inappropriate for a twelve year old to be caught making out on the couch. But for Lorelai, it was not about the 'cool' idea of kissing, even less about acting out against her parents, but more about acting against their puritanical, purely upper class ideals. So when she took up with Christopher, she had the advantage of - even only at fourteen - having much more sexual experience than him. She had never had sex with Daniel; but there had been groping, grinding behind the science building at school….but she was Christopher's first girlfriend.
She watched him sitting next to her uncomfortably in the made to look good, not be comfortable chairs. Her hand had been stroking his knee up and down for the past hour; nothing too explicit, just enough to promise more when they were alone. Her mother had abandoned her eagle-eyed watching of her daughter five glasses of champagne ago, and so Lorelai was feeling light-headed and tipsy, somewhat ambivalently bobbing her head along to whatever conversation happened to fall upon her. But she wanted out of here. She wanted to be away from the closed-minded social circle that dominated her parents' existence. So she impatiently whispered into Christopher's ear. Let's get out of here.
Being a fifteen year old boy, he immediately agreed with the implication that was contained within her question. She stood up and excused herself, muttering a quick 'he needs to help me find the bathrooms.'. She knew that to most parents, this would be a fairly obvious excuse to go and make out, but as usual, her parents were engaged in conversations revolving around the DAR, politics and finances, and ignored her leave.
They walked tipsily through the hotel lobby and through the back doors to the gardens and beach, stumbling hand in hand. She nearly lost her balance a couple of times, but Christopher was quick to catch her. They stumbled onto a beach chair, thanking god that because of the late hour, nobody was about.
"You won't believe how much I wanted to get out of there. You drive me crazy." He pulled her against him, crushing her against his body. He leaned down to kiss her, immediately thrusting his tongue into her waiting mouth. She met his tongue with hers, and a battle emerged.
"God…Chris….." she moaned. She had learned early on that Christopher was a much, much better kisser than Daniel had been. He flexed his tongue, moving his hands up and down her stomach.
She broke the kiss, a little afraid of the intimate nature their little make-out session had taken on. She didn't want to lose her virginity on the beach, after all. So Lorelai was content to lay her forehead against his, and moved her hands soothingly up and down his back. She knew he was 'uncomfortable'; she could still feel it poking at her hip. But nothing would be done about it right now.
They were interrupted by a voice slurring as it shouted "Lorelai! Christopher! Where the devil have you gone?"
She gave her boyfriend a quick kiss, and replied to her mother that they had decided to 'take a walk along the beach before leaving.' Her mother nodded, and glared superficially at Christopher before pulling her daughter along by the hand, leaving Christopher to wander somewhat aimlessly behind them.
They left the hotel that night still quite drunk, wanting each other and not wanting to wait any longer. Lorelai knew she shouldn't lose her virginity drunkenly, but she wanted it so, so badly.
As they reached the Gilmore house, Christopher said a polite if not slightly inebriated goodbye to Lorelai and her parents, walking down the driveway in the direction of his own house before doubling back to climb up the big bark tree that lay beneath Lorelai's window. He started climbing, stumbling over the top of the balcony with a small mewl of discomfort before waiting off to the side as he saw Lorelai and her mother talking through the window. Emily finally took her leave, and Christopher took the opportunity to barrel through the door enclosed in the window.
Lorelai giggled at his attempt, and immediately swept him up in a sweeping embrace. He kissed her passionately, moving her towards her bed, his hands sweeping along her back, down passed her ass and back. They were startled momentarily by the sound of movement coming through the walls, and paused, realizing somewhat soberly that they might be heard. Lorelai laughed quietly, dragging him back through the window-door before pulling him against her again.
He smiled, laughing, and tried to put on as sober a face as he could. He reached into his blazer pocket, not wanting her to sober up on the odd chance that she might change her mind. It went against every good-guy instinct within him, but he ignored the voices telling him it was too soon, and pulled open the cap to the bottle, handing it over, and watching her take a good, long gulp of vodka.
Her blue eyes sparkled at him, telling him that it was ok, she wants it too. He immediately pulled her to him, grinding against her, his manhood throbbing at finally receiving the attention it had wanted all evening. They kissed passionately as he backed her against the glass, removing his own blazer and her top in one brisk movement. She shivered, and pressed closer against him, enjoying the feeling of his chest - now only covered by his shirt - pressing against her breasts. He groaned, moving his hands to the clasp of her bra, realizing that once the little hook had come undone, they had gone farther than ever before.
He grunted the question, but she only pushed further into him. He released the clasp, and immediately moved his hands to undo his own shirt. He wanted to feel her bare flesh against him - now.
She wanted to regain dominance; it was a core part of her personality, and so she pushed him so that he was lying on the floor, his jacket beneath him. She straddled him, undoing his belt and slowly dragging down his fly. He groaned loudly, loud enough that she kissed him to stop the grunting, manly noise from escaping him again. She dragged his trousers and boxers off, stopping momentarily to marvel at the first naked penis she had ever seen. It looked like it would hurt, and he saw her questioning stare. In an attempt to distract her, he latched his mouth to her breasts, hoping that the sucking motions he was repeating were pleasurable, and not just something demonstrated in movies and on television for viewing pleasure. She groaned her approval, lifting off him only long enough to rid of her skirt and underwear.
A pause. He had never seen a live naked woman before - except for his mother, and he looked unabashedly at her body, pausing as he moved his hands on the same trail his eyes had been on. She lightly touched his manliness, noticing that he seemed to be in pain. In response, he quickly guided her to be above him, aware that he wouldn't last much longer.
They both briefly thought of contraception, but Lorelai had been on the contraceptive pill for a year due to…monthly difficulties….and knew that it was very unlikely for her to get pregnant on it. So as he moved his hands down from her waist and onto her ass, she allowed him to slowly find her opening and position himself there. They smiled; had a romantic moment in an otherwise passionate but inebriated encounter. He leaned up to kiss her as she slowly slid down him, gasping at the mixture of pain and pleasure she was experiencing.
He felt like he was floating; the only thoughts that crossed his mind being unintelligible. Wow. This is it. Sex. Jesus. How do I…not…urgh….She felt a fleeting moment of pain as she experimentally bobbed up and down once, watching his pupils dilate further, waited a minute and repeated, finding the second thrust much more pleasurable. They repeated the exercise a few times before Christopher felt himself releasing inside her, and it was only then that he realized they hadn't used a condom. She felt his release, and was all of a sudden overwhelmed with pleasure, and collapsed onto his chest.
It hadn't lasted very long, but they were both aware of what this change in their relationship meant. At fifteen years of age, they were both suddenly adults…with the experiences to back up that claim, however alcohol-fuelled the experience may have been.