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I was, technically. After the wedding, still in our dress and suit (respectively), we drove over to the fancy hotel my parents graciously paid for (which is kind of weird in retrospect). His room was the attic. He wasn’t a virgin, having gotten religion in college after having his share of partners. How it went down: It was our wedding night, and despite having done damn near everything else, we had agreed to save the coitus, the final frontier, until we were married.

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