I technically lost my virginity twice. Same person, but the first time just wasn’t the way I thought it would go down so I just don’t count it. I had too high of expectations. I dreamed of being in the white canopy bed, covered in rose petals, lit candles, Marvin Gaye playing, in Paris, France with a view of the Eiffel Tower and there would be little cherub angels flying around….
And yet it went down like this:
I was at my high school boyfriend’s house and his parents were at some church event but we weren’t sure when they were getting back. Him and I had been dry humping on the couch for what felt like 2 hours. Props to him… finally I said something along the lines of, “ok, just put it in.”
“Are you sure you’re ready?” He politely question with his boner busting through his tight khaki pants. God, I loved Catholic school boys and their uniforms.
I think all the blood rushed to his dick because he was looking a little pale.
“Yes, I am fucking ready.” I don’t know who was speaking–me, being an oh so well put together 17 year-old self, or my hormones, screaming, “PENETRATE ME!”
This poor boy told me that he was nervous to do it on the couch because it was in plain view of the front door and we didn’t know exactly when the parentals would be home….
“How about the bathroom?”
“That’s fine,” my horny little self squeaked.
He proceeded to take my hand and led me to the bathroom where it would all go down.
I mean don’t get me wrong… it was a nice bathroom. Nothing was wrong with it. It was just the fact that I was going to get the first P in my V in a bathroom.
He lifted me up onto the granite counter top so I was sitting in the upright position, slid the condom on and gently pressed his dick against my vagina… I was nervous and he was nervous. He grabbed my hips telling me to rotate them upwards… I did and just like that he entered me. I was no longer my pure virgin self.
I. had. sex.
One pump. Two pumps. Three pumps. And it was hurting now. It felt like a sharp object was shoved inside of me. Four pumps. I wrapped my arms around his neck in agony. Five pumps. We both are breathing heavily and I could see how this might feel good one day. Six pumps. Seven pumps. I’m clenching. Eight pumps. Tickling creeps up the bridge of my nose and water is filling my eyes. Nine pumps. I’m wailing. Ten pumps.
“Oh my god… get out!” I screamed, bringing my feet up and kicking him away with his dick bouncing between his legs.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No. I mean, yes, but that isn’t why I’m crying,” I kept sniffling, pretty much hyperventilating struggling to get the words out, “I just thought, I just thought… I’d be in love before I did this.”
“Baby we can wait until you’re ready.”
……Fast forward two more months and a lot of blow jobs and fingering and licking and we are to the second time I lost my virginity. Two months had completely changed my perception and just matured me so much (if you haven’t caught on yet, I am being very sarcastic).
I was in love!
I told him I was ready.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am sure.”
We went for a walk on the bike trail near his house. Under his arm he carried a blanket that would soon be a part of something magical. We found a park bench. He spread the blanket out accordingly. It really was a beautiful October night. It was brisk, making my nipples hard enough to cut diamonds, but the moon shining through the fog really set the mood.
I laid back on the bench, pulling my Catholic school girl down to my ankles and down went my boxers and then my panties. He climbed on top of me. Put the condom on. Humped me for about a minute and then came… and that was that!
We fucked for the next year and a half. Then we went to college and broke up and I had sex with many many MANY more men… and these experiences inspired this blog!
***Side note: I will get into teachings that were pounded into me about abstinence and what I was and wasn’t taught because I did grow up in a Catholic home and went to Catholic school.***