losing my religion

I lost my virginity on a Monday in February during my junior year of high school. It was a holiday from school thanks to one of the early presidents of the US and I had pretty much planned the whole thing out. I knew that the first time wouldn’t be amazing, that it would probably hurt, and that I shouldn’t put too much stock into it. I’d been dating Aidan since the end of December and my feelings for him ran deeper than anything I’d felt before. I knew I wanted him to be my first. I also knew that he was also a virgin and at the time, that’s what I wanted.

Since Aidan didn’t own a car, I picked him up under the guise that we’d just be spending the day together since we were off of school. We’d already done a lot of heavy making out and I knew he was keen to have sex. He didn’t know I was too. I brought him back to my house and within minutes, we were on my bed making out. I had a daybed with a twin mattress so he was pretty much on top of me from the get-go as there wasn’t a whole lot of room for rolling around. I shimmied out of my shorts and unbuttoned his as well. Aidan stopped kissing me long enough to ask me if I was sure and I handed him a condom. Game on, let’s do this.

It didn’t last long, and he didn’t get very far inside me. I was nervous and my body was clenching up reactively. There were one or two pangs of pain but Aidan tried to be very gentle with me. I kept hitting my head on the bars of the daybed and he put a pillow between my head and the bars so that it wouldn’t conk the metal as hard. I think he was excited at the fact that he was actually having sex and after about five minutes of very shallow, slow stroking, he came and collapsed on top of me.

When all was said and done, it occurred to me that neither of us had even taken our shirts off. We’d just done the most intimate thing we’d ever done with anyone and neither of us were entirely naked. We hadn’t even really talked about our feelings for one another at this point. We just knew that we would wind up sleeping together for the first time with one another. A week later, during a downpour and in the shelter of my car, we told one another that we were falling in love.

Losing my virginity wasn’t the most romantic scenario in the world. It certainly wasn’t the best sex I’ve ever had. However, I have no regrets. Aidan continues to be the measure by which I hold all men. We dated for a long time, we kept in touch even longer. I can’t help but feel lucky that the first man I slept with turned out to be one of the best men I’ve ever known.

light through yonder window

Corey hopped my balcony one summer night in search of a free beer. It’s not nearly as athletic and heroic as it might sound. I moved all my furniture in and out of that same balcony, as it was nearly level with the pool area from which he came. Our front door was at the lower level of the complex and led into the bottom floor of our place.

Corey was a good looking guy, very physically fit, blond, icy blue eyes. He was also every bit as dumb as his name would suggest and this was very obvious simply by looking at him. It was confirmed the moment he opened his mouth. So pretty in that “shhhh, don’t talk” kind of way.

He started flirting with me instantly. I knew he was an idiot but I also knew he was hot and I could use a good screw so I let him into the part of the house that the balcony was connected to. Conveniently, that was the bedroom. Once the blinds were drawn, he made small talk in an attempt to “get to know me.” I told him he knew me well enough already by putting my tongue in his mouth. He was a pretty good kisser and we carried on with the making out for a few minutes.

Corey is definitely one of those guys who physically pushes a woman’s head down to his crotch. He put my hand on his cock within minutes of the first kiss and through his jeans, I could tell he was hard as a rock. He started unbuttoning his jeans and began the patented male-yoga move of trying to fold himself in half so that I would be mystified and amazed at the cock that was suddenly in my face.

–Guys, give us some fucking credit. We all know what you’re doing and you look ridiculous doing it. Furthermore, any good woman will play dumb and refuse to administer any mouth action until you settle down and ask nicely like a good boy. Pushing our heads down will only give you a meet and greet with the business ends of our teeth.–

I told Corey to can the stretching and not to even think about pushing my head down. I do not go down on command and trying to manuver me into it physically will pretty much ensure you’ll never get a blow job from me. It’s a standard rule I adopted at the early stages of my sexual adventures.

The jeans came off quickly and I knew I was in for a crap shag the moment I saw what was beneath them: standard-issue, white, Y-fronts, the underwear of 6 year old boys. There’s nothing attractive about them. Luckily, he took them off quickly and flung them across the room and I was able to pretend I didn’t see them.

–Please. Boxers or commando. Leave the Y-fronts behind on your 12th birthday.–

Corey’s pretty face and hot body included his cock. It was perhaps the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen in person. It was straight, rock hard with a gorgeous pattern of veins. The head was perfectly symmetrical (thank you, Dr. Bris) and the shaft was thick. He had to be packing at least nine inches. I was so in awe, my clothes fell off.

After Corey got over the requisite tit worship, I handed him a condom and instructed him to fuck me. He quickly put it on and positioned himself over me. I felt the head of his cock push between the lips of my pussy his whole body shuddered. He started panting and pushed further in. When his cock was about halfway inside me, I raised my hips up to meet his and push him deeper into me and he started moaning and half-whispering about how beautiful I was. Our pelvic bones finally met and I inhaled deeply. His body was gorgeous and his cock did feel delicious but it was clear by the second thrust that it was not going to last long. His whispering became more frenetic, became a higher pitched declaration of “oh my god you’re so good…. you’re great… oh god….” and at the end of the fourth thrust, he punctuated his stream of consciousness monologue with a grunting moan and collapsed on top of me.

“I’m sorry,” he said when he regained his breath. “You just felt so good, I couldn’t help myself.”

–Guys: this line is old. We’ve all heard it and not one of us believes it for one moment. (But we will all tell our friends about your quickness.)–

He was sweating. How the hell was he sweating? I’d barely worked up enough lube to let him in, let alone moved enough to break a sweat. Within minutes of apologising for his shitty performance, he was snoring. Snoring! In my bed! After four thrusts! Jesus, my nipples didn’t even get fully erect.

I took a bath, called a friend or two and told them about my exciting evening, drank a few more beers, and got into bed next to Corey. He tried to snuggle in his sleep but I pushed him off me and told him to stay on his side. I set the alarm for 6am and cranked the volume up.

Corey shot out of bed when he heard the alarm go off. He swore he hadn’t realised he fell asleep. (Bullshit.) He had to be home for this excuse or that excuse and where the hell were his underwear?! I told him I had no idea and to just shut up about leaving. It was no big deal and I wasn’t expecting a ring. He swore it wasn’t a one time thing, that he wasn’t that type of guy (do I really need to insert another aside here, guys?), and he’d definitely see me again. “Mmmhmm” was the extent of my reply as he flung himself over my balcony again, jeans on, t-shirt in hand, underwear MIA. I locked the door, turned the alarm off, and went back to sleep.

His Y-fronts surfaced while I was cleaning my closet some weeks later. I don’t know how they wound up way in the back of my closet but I took it upon myself to return them the only way I knew how. I threw them into the bushes near the pool. Those little fuckers really did fly pretty far. As I was studying later that night, I heard Corey yelling like an idiot as he came home from a bar with his friends. There was a small pause and then his voice came loud and clear through my screen, “Hey, these are mine!” I don’t know how often he finds his underwear on bushes but they were important enough for him to reclaim them I guess because they were gone a few minutes later when I peeked out to check.

And lest anyone think I’m a complete cunt, let me assure you that I am. I’m also a truthful and correct cunt. Another girl in the same apartment complex had a very similar experience in the sack with Corey a few weeks after I did. He’s a career four-pump-chump.

Test Drive

I knew as a young child that I wasn’t the “save it till marriage” type. My parents had me baptised in the Catholic church soon after my birth and we did the weekly church ritual for years, but they themselves were never very preachy about virginity and sex. It may have had something to do with the fact that neither of them had saved themselves for marriage and both were brought up Catholic. I went through the catechism thing, did my first communion, and listened to the sermons every Sunday that essentially told me I was going to hell no matter what I did. I drew the line at confirmation and told my parents I was no longer interested in participating in the church stuff. I had a problem with having to “confess my sins” to an ordinary man acting as my “channel” to God. It seemed to me to be very out of scope with the concept of having a personal connection with God, which was very encouraged. It seemed voyeuristic. Really, it just seemed weird and I didn’t think I’d really done anything wrong, no matter whose book said what. I haven’t gone to mass since I was in my early teens. I don’t anticipate the urge coming on anytime soon.

It never occurred to me to save my virginity until I got married. I heard the concept over and over again at church and from self righteous girls on the playground, but the idea that I should save my virginity was never in the books. Perhaps I was a precocious child but I couldn’t figure out why someone would test drive a car to make sure it’s comfortable but not see how a mate would be in the sack before saying vows of till death do us part.

I did know that I wanted the first time to be with someone I cared about. It didn’t matter if I was deliriously in love, so long as it wasn’t just a drunken party encounter. A little more than four months shy of my 17th birthday, I lost my virginity. It wasn’t magical and romantic; I knew it wouldn’t be. The experience from my point of view was more to just get the first time over with so that we could actually enjoy it later on.

I’m very forthright when it comes to sex. Sometimes, often times, this means that I’m not very nice when it comes to details. There are a lot of lousy lays out there; sometimes a girl just needs to vent. I’m venting here. All names have been changed because while I’m forthright with brutal honesty, I’m not downright malicious. Comments are welcome but I reserve the right to edit and/or delete at my discretion.