Male: I am 44. I was 13.
Raquel Welch had always been my favorite actress but in the last year she had a different effect on me. Whenever I saw her on television or in a movie, I got an immediate erection. Even a picture in T.V. Guide would do it. So tall and curvy and dark-haired. I dreamed of meeting someone like her and then I saw Shelly. She lived the next street over and we ran into each other going to school one day. She was 5’7”, a curvy brunette with the biggest breasts I had ever seen on a junior high girl. She was just like Raquel to me.
I had no idea what to do, what to expect, or even what sex was. But I knew I wanted to find out. My parents were no help. They were immigrants and the very idea of discussing sex with anyone, including each other, was abhorrent. I inherited this guilt and was too embarrassed to ask them or my friends about it. My friend Frank, however, told me that he saw his parents doing it and I should hug her tight and scream in her ear and she will scream back.
After a month, I finally got the nerve to ask her on a date. I had seen Burt Reynolds ask Raquel to dinner and take her to a romantic Italian restaurant. Shelly didn’t seem to mind that I was 5’2” and I think she liked me too, so she said yes. I took her to Pizza Hut, which was as close as I could come in my little town. We had fun and on the way home we passed some small woods and she stopped. She leaned down and kissed me and asked if I wanted to make out in the woods. This was definitely a surprise. It turns out she was far more experienced than me and just came out and asked me if I wanted to see her naked. I don’t remember actually being able to form the word yes but I think she took my awkward shifting and mumbling for yes and it happened right there on our coats.
The only thing on my mind, besides sheer joy from seeing my beautiful nude Shelly, was just keep your cool and try not to act like a virgin. That plan crumbled quickly. I was all over her but nowhere in particular. She stopped me and looked in my eyes and said, “You ever do this before?” I said, “Yes!” She laughed and put my hands where she wanted them, until I figured out what to do. I touched her gently, even carefully. I didn’t want to hurt her, though she outweighed me by twenty pounds. I was so happy. When she touched me and put it inside herself, I truly felt blissful. She was wet and not exactly a virgin, so I had no trouble entering her. Then I instinctively began moving and that was it. It was over. I was confused, she was disappointed and our romance ended right there. That was the worst part that she wouldn’t go out with me again.
The good part, though, was that I learned almost everything about sex in those few minutes, especially what not to do. In spite of it, I was grateful to her and felt like a man. I also knew that I had to learn to control myself, to prolong the blissful feelings as long as I could. Then she would enjoy it too—and maybe want to do it again. This informed my attitude toward sex in a positive way. It compelled me to learn more about women, not only sexually but I explored my fascination with them. I still don’t know anything but at least I keep trying.
She moved away the next summer and I never saw her again. For a long time, I thought if I ever saw her again, I would feel embarrassed and ashamed and have to apologize. But now, at forty-four, I smile at the thought of it and in writing this I can laugh, because I knew no better and treated her as well as I could. My actions were foolish but I was sincere.
That is the advice I would give a virgin. Be sincere and honest with your partner. If they aren’t understanding, they are not the one for your first time. If they listen to you, smile and treat you with love, you will remember this moment as beautiful and will feel bliss.
Female: I am 34. I was 16 when I lost my virginity.
I didn’t have any expectations about sex, not that I can remember. I was really scared it was going to hurt.
His name was John and he was seventeen years old; he was my first boyfriend. We had been dating for over a year. I knew him for about four or five years, we grew up in the same neighborhood.
My parents never gave us any advice when it came to sex. They made it clear that we were not supposed to have sex until married and if we did, we were sluts. Men have sex with whores but marry virgins.
Friends would say that the first time was going to be painful and that you would bleed once he “popped your cherry.” That there was no way you could get pregnant the first time and that once you’ve had sex, you would walk different. My favorite: if I didn’t have sex for a long time, I would be a virgin again.
We did it at his house, in his bedroom. We ditched school that day. His parents were at work. We had been talking about having sex. He had been sexually active before with his ex-girlfriend and since we had been dating for over a year, it was time for us to have sex. We pretty much planned the day out.
We didn’t use birth control. Since it was going to be my first time, I didn’t think I would get pregnant and he said that he would pull out so there would be no way I could get pregnant.
I was so scared and nervous but mostly scared. I wasn’t able to sleep the night before. I was so scared my parents would find out. Once I was at his place, I couldn’t sit still. He reassured me that everything was going to be all right and that there was no way my parents would find out.
We went into his room and starting making out—he was such a great kisser. Slowly he started to unbutton my blouse, then went to remove my bra. I totally freaked out and asked him not remove my bra. I was so embarrassed and insecure about my body; I didn’t want him to see me naked. I kept my bra on, got in his bed, went under the blankets and then removed my shorts and underwear. I made him turn the lights off and close the curtains so the room would be dark. He took his clothes off and I freaked even more when I saw his penis. I thought it was huge and there was no way it was going to fit inside me. He got in bed with me, we started making out again, then he rolled on top of me. He kept professing his love and how it wouldn’t hurt. He then placed his penis in the opening of my vagina. I just laid there stone stiff, scared, nervous, wondering what the hell I was doing. Once his penis began to enter my vagina, I remember I gasped for air. I started to cry. It was so painful I felt like my insides were on fire.
There was nothing enjoyable about it. I kept crying and asked him to stop. He kept saying it was okay, that the pain would go away and that he wasn’t even inside me all the way. He wouldn’t stop, he kept going—telling me to relax, that I was making the pain worse by being so tense. I kept crying and screaming that it hurt and for him to stop. He then stated that he couldn’t stop just yet because he was about to cum. A couple seconds later he got off me. I grabbed my clothes from the floor and ran to the bathroom. I was in so much pain that it made me sick to my stomach. I stayed in the bathroom for what seemed like a long time, throwing up and crying. I then cleaned myself up, put my clothes back on and went home. All the way home I kept praying that my mom wouldn’t notice anything different about me.
He was respectful and sweet in the beginning. Until I started crying and wanted him to stop, then he was jerk.
He did have trouble getting his penis inside of me. I remember him saying I was too dry and tight.
The best part was when it was over and the worst part was having no control and the pain. I was so ashamed of what I did. For a long time I felt dirty and regretted the whole thing. I hated him, I couldn’t bear to look at him.
I told my best friend at the time, Dorothy.
A couple of years later he got a girl he was dating pregnant. They had a boy but didn’t stay together. From what I’ve heard he’s a great dad, very devoted to his son. He still lives at home with his parents and works at a local restaurant as a bartender. For whatever crazy reason, he never learned how to drive and takes the bus. FYI—We had a fifteen year class reunion several years ago and he came up in conversation.
I thought I was in love with him; a year of dating at that age seemed like a long time. So, I caved in to the pressure.
That experience left a very negative view towards sex and men. For so long I was so ashamed, angry, disgusted with myself and others. I blamed myself for what happened and had serious trust issues with any man I attempted to date. In my mid-twenties I sought professional help.
Looking back, I can’t believe how naïve I was. If I had it to do all over, I would change the person I had sex with and I would wait until after high school.
My advice to virgins is to be very careful, always use protection. You may have a choice when it comes to pregnancy but not STDS or HIV. Talk to an adult you trust about sex; what their experience was like, do they regret anything etc.