What's your footprint?

Your stories

Imran confirms something that I have often considered, that the act of losing one’s virginity leaves something behind. Like an imprint warmed into soft wax, there is something about this experience that makes an indelible mark, perhaps for years after the event. Read on to see how first love, and Paris, made it’s impression on Imran.

Imran. Born 1981. Lost virginity aged 22

I read about your project a while ago and it made me think back to my own experience and reflect. My upbringing was a struggle between English and Muslim, best demonstrated by Saturdays, when I would spend the mornings at regular school and then rush off to religious school. It was a fairly strict upbringing - work hard and achieving. My schooling was boys-only private and whilst the opportunities this afforded me were astounding, my chances to meet girls were extremely limited. I did know a few Muslim girls, but I wasn't interested in them and neither them in me. I also figured that my parents would get in the way and that my chances of ever having sex with one were likely to be slim.

From a religious perspective, I was never taught that I mustn’t have sex before marriage, and the subject was never broached. I never thought about whether it was wrong to be with non-Muslim girls. Quite frankly I didn't care what religion she was. Popular culture and friends, rather than religion or parents, shaped my ideas - sex would be mind-blowing, but if only I could meet a girl!

My friends and I were all in similar situations. A couple of them went on holiday and things started happening for them, and they came back and they had that innate confidence and girlfriends followed. That made me envious of them, but it didn't really change my situation. At the time, I thought it was also because I was different. I was going to a predominantly Caucasian school and the only girls I came into contact with were the same. I just assumed that they weren't attracted to Muslim boys with large glasses and curtains.

Except for a new haircut and contact lenses, things stayed the same until university. It was everything that had been promised to me - freedom, independence, freethinking, abundant opportunities, alcohol, no brother looking over my shoulder and most importantly, GIRLS. It was unimaginably exciting but also nerve-racking, because oddly enough, I wanted a girlfriend first and not just a random night. I spent my first year in a daze of alcohol, hangovers, nights out and nights in; such was the fast paced nature of university life in London. It opened my eyes to so many things. But again my insecurities would hold me back. And it wasn't until I forgot about them, that I could attract girls.

It was odd, I don't really remember doing anything different. But I fell for a good friend of mine and the attraction was explosive. Both of us were virgins. There was a sense of the forbidden and the untried. It was thrilling, as no one else knew. But there was also the sense of adolescent fumbling, which was embarrassing given my age, and I was always reluctant to go the full way. I went away for the summer, guilty, and confused. I didn't want a relationship and I wasn't sure I wanted to take things further. I just wanted to continue in my state of blissful ignorance.

I got back from holidays, and as planned, was going to take a short break with some friends to Paris. There was a change of plan. Without me knowing it, the girl had invited herself along and as no one knew of what was going on, had no suspicions. Not only that, but we would also be sharing a room. I was not happy that this was being thrust upon me and I had no choice in the matter.

I guess I was also dreading having a boys holiday, ruined by a girl. But mostly, I was unsure about what was going to happen. After all, I had been avoiding the topic all summer and had flatly refused to take things any further. But as we left Waterloo and sped toward Paris, I realized that this girl was just fantastic - she allowed me to relax and shed my angst and fear. Crucially, I really like her and I discovered I was deeply attracted to her.

It was heavenly. We saw the Tour De France finish in Paris, the opening of the French football season and we ate and drank well. She was perfect. I felt at ease with her. Excited, nervous, tense and ecstatic. It was wonderful being in Paris and being with this gorgeous girl, and just teasing each other and waiting to get back to the hotel room. Sharing a hotel room was erotic - glimpses of her changing, in her underwear, her breasts, her bottom and her stomach. It was a heady mix and it helped to create an electric atmosphere. We were able to do things at our own pace and discover sex in Paris. So the fear turned into pleasure and excitement and perhaps heightened everything.

I don't really remember losing my virginity, but I remember her taste, her smell, her gentle moaning, her desire, her body glistening in the afternoon haze. I remember thinking that it was amazing that I could transport her to another world. I delighted in kissing, nibbling, caressing, licking and teasing every part of her anatomy and at the same time heightening my own pleasure.

I ended up seeing this wonderful woman (I think Paris changed both of us!) for another 2 years. She broke up with me over religion - she was a Christian and she couldn't see herself marrying a Muslim. It broke my heart and it took me a long time to get over her and to trust women again. I was very disappointed, especially after discovering sex so late on, but that didn't stop me caring for this woman. I was certainly thankful to her, and Paris, for introducing me to sex.

I think losing my virginity was part of growing up, becoming a man and taking a step into the unknown. It also made me more confident, especially around women. I still view sex with a woman as a tense, exciting and pleasurable affair and I think that some of those same feelings from my first time are replicated again. Whilst it will never be the same as losing one's virginity, it is a diluted affair with the same vital ingredients.