I sense a theme developing here. I did a radio show recently and in it, people phoned up and told their virginity loss stories live on air. It was a brilliant experience and I loved that people had the guts and felt the motivation to tell such a story to a live audience. It just goes to show what an evocative subject this is and how emotive it can be, even years after the actual event occurred. But what stuck in my mind was a brave young man who phoned in and told a very sad story. His words ‘...she took advantage of me…’ rolled around my mind for days afterwards. He didn’t elaborate too much because he could barely speak, so distressed was he at the re-telling of this story but he didn’t have to. His virginity loss experience had clearly been a nightmare and he obviously felt like he had had no control over the situation.
People are often surprised when I tell them I collect men’s virginity loss stories, as if men’s experiences are somehow less significant than women’s. Let me tell you, they are not. One of the things that I have loved most about this entire process has been listening to the voices of men, seeing the other side, understanding the thought processes and motivations – a little bit better – of the opposite sex. Today’s story is a case in point. Today’s story is the other side of the coin. I could probably write the woman’s version of events myself. Boy hangs out with girl, boy says he loves girl, boy and girl talk about having sex but don’t actually do it. Boy has sex with someone else. That’s how it’s going to look from a female perspective; we’ve all been there. But how about if it hadn’t been that straightforward? What if there had been a back-story that had never been explained to you? How would things look then? Because this is that back-story.
I am not suggesting that every man that ever behaved like a twat had an excuse for his behaviour…but some might have. And if they did, I think it might sound a little bit like this. And whilst we’re at it, lets not forget that women can behave like total twats too but for some reason, people are less interested in that story. Enough said.
‘I was born in 1986 (24 years old), am male and I live in the UK. Here follows how I lost my virginity. If I’m honest I am writing this for partly selfish reasons, as a sort of therapy really.
It was two days before my sixteenth birthday. I was a reasonably confident and popular guy, and was very confident being around girls. I was about eight months into my first proper relationship and was feeling my way sexually.
My girlfriend and I were almost identical in age and in sexual experience. We could spend hours in her room snogging and playing around, quite innocent when I look back at it. Over the eight months we eventually had progressed to the point of some genital touching, but were happy to take our time (and neither of us knew what we were doing). I felt like I was a bit more open-minded and happy to go further than she was, but we were both learning about each other slowly.
A couple of times during our playing around sessions, it had got very heated and she would ask me if I wanted to have intercourse with her, I said no. This was for several reasons. I felt like intercourse should come further down the line when we were much more comfortable with each other’s bodies. I was a little scared too and protective of my virginity. While I would have been happy to do lots of other things, I wanted losing my virginity to be something really special. And I wanted to be really good at it too, to know what I was doing, I felt like this might come after being more experienced in foreplay etc.
There was a party organised for a friend from school’s birthday at their house and my girlfriend couldn’t make it. This wasn’t a problem; I had had previously no problems with restraint but was more than a little flirty and got on well with people from school.
At the party I got chatting to a girl from school that I didn’t know very well. She was a little quiet but I had always found her sweet and more than a little cute. She was a bit upset as things weren’t going too well with her boyfriend and I was happy to comfort her about it. I was happy to do a bit of hugging, didn’t seem like I was breaking any rules (although of course I was!).
After a short while, she asks whether we could go upstairs to talk about it some more. I was enjoying being close to her, and my naïve brain didn’t put two and two together. I said ‘of course’.
We went into one of the upstairs rooms, it turned out to be a darkened small spare room with a double bed taking up most of the space in it, and we lie on it side by side still talking about her boyfriend. After a while, the way she touches me changes. No longer is she wanting comfort hugs from me but is stroking my chest. After a while we are kissing, badly, and my head was reeling. I had never even contemplated cheating on my girlfriend, and had previously always felt in-control of situations but I seemed to be passively sleepwalking into it. She asks if we can lie naked next to each other and I agree. I still did not have any idea that anything other than a bit of snogging/hugging was about to happen, as strange as that sounds to look back on.
As soon as we are both undressed, she climbs on top of me and pushes my penis into her. I lie there in shock, thinking how I don’t want this. As she starts moving her hips she tells me to ‘pull it out before you cum’, I do not understand fully what this means - as I had never ejaculated before (except in my sleep) and lay there silent and still. As she continues to move her hips I blankly watch what she is doing, shocked at what is happening.
After a minute or two I cum into her and my penis become limp. She stops and looks at me angrily. ‘What the fuck, did you just cum in me?’ and all I can get out is ‘Sorry’. A few seconds later, she realises that I am petrified. ‘Oh, you’re a virgin?’ she says with a mixture of anger and surprise. I nod.
She turns on the main light in the room, hastily gets dressed and heads back downstairs to the party. After about 5 minutes I get dressed and wander outside to be alone. I manage to pull myself together to pretend nothing had happened and get back to the party.
The next day I arrange to meet with my girlfriend, she knows something is up due to my urgency on the phone. We meet in the park and I decide to tell her that I slept with someone at the party and give no details about it. She is distraught and runs home. With the help of my sister, I phone the girl from the party and ask her to take the morning after pill. I’m really grateful for my sister’s unquestioning support.
Fast-forward almost ten years; I wonder how much this experience has affected me. I’m single but am still confident with women and confident about sex, and had a few wonderful partners who it didn’t work out with. It took quite a few years but I’ve stopped feeling guilty about what happened. I think that it hasn’t had much of an effect on me, but it’s a hard thing to gauge. That one first dreadful experience has not stopped me from having some excellent experiences since (and hopefully a few more).’