The last one I got like this was from 29 year old Daniel who was, in his own words, ‘a decent-enough looking guy; I'm not crazy or weird in a way that makes people run away’ but ‘ I just turned twenty-nine and somehow, I am still a virgin.’
Six months later, Daniel wrote to me again to tell me that he had finally lost his virginity to ‘a female friend who I had always thought was stunning but out of my league.’ What really made his story stand out was that afterwards - and bearing in mind the fact that the woman in question was about to move overseas on a permanent basis - she decided to leave Daniel a little present. She decided to teach him everything that she knew about sex before she left. A bit like a sex angel.
I know all this because I had to ask Daniel how his partner in crime had felt about deflowering a 29-year-old man in the first place so he asked her to email me and tell me herself. She did just that and this is what she wrote:
‘After he told me I was in a state of shock. I think the best image is to liken me to a goldfish. Not much sentence making was going on but I realized he had chosen to tell me so I said it was all fine even though inside I panicked a bit. Afterwards, I went to work and thoughts started flashing through my mind like why me? I don't have anything good to offer! I don't want to corrupt him. I'm not good enough for this role. Then I just decided that it was just meant to be, for whatever reason he had chosen me and so I decided to take him under my wing and find ways to make it fun but educational.
We explored what he liked and then he explored what I liked but I always made sure that he got to try everything he fancied and I got to do the same. When I met Dan I had just come out of a long-term relationship and you fall into habits and we had stopped exploring so it was great to meet someone who I felt comfortable with that I could explore and reconnect those feelings of desire without feeling judged or embarrassed. It was as much learning for me as I think it was for him. But it was also fun and I believe everything should have an element of fun or positivity to it or why bother! It brings a smile to my face knowing that he will at least be going out there with a few tools that he can develop and have fun with.’
Which all goes to re-enforce the idea in my head that some things are worth waiting for. It’s hard to wait. It takes strength of character, as today’s story teller today will tell you, not to go out and grab the first random and be done with it. Most of us feel so stigmatized by virginity that we do just that. (I am holding my hand up as I write this). And whilst sleeping with inappropriate people in a bid to rid ourselves of virginity is all part of the growing up process, the soppy old romantic in me couldn’t help loving this story.
‘…it happened, in the comfort of my own bed, with this adorable guy that loved my body and my mind, who wanted only what was best for me….’
How could you not love that?
Angeline from Belgium. Lost virginity two years ago, aged 34.
If a more or less 'normal' age to lose your virginity is 17 years old, I waited double that time. Well, waited is somehow not the right choice of words. I did want sex, but it to be with a guy I at least liked, not just for the sake of it. This, together with a real talent for falling for unreachable guys (either gay or completely out of my league or too shy to make a move themselves) and being and feeling too big, made for a great mix. So my teens and my twenty-something years passed and despite a really active life and a big group of friends, nothing happened. I didn't even get kissed!
This was, of course, subject to a lot of late night talks because it was no secret to my close friends. What was wrong with me? How come everybody else seems to at least have been kissed? Was I too picky? Would anything change if I lost weight?
I did, in the end. In a span of 3 to 4 years I lost weight, I changed my hairstyle from cropped and rather manly to shoulder length and curly and I started wearing more female and colorful clothes. And I must say, I did feel better about myself.
I tried out dating sites but still no kisses. No sex either. I did meet new men, that I must say. Some were great, but not free or not interested, some were silly, some were interested but missing somehow (intelligence, humor, character). I read a lot too. On sex, more specifically on the technicity of it. How does it happen? How to give a blowjob? What possible variations?
I became quite an expert, but only in my mind. A strange combination, as if I was not strange enough already. I was a spinster in this spinsterless new millennium. And then, all of a sudden, I was 31 and on a birthday party and I kissed. Nothing special to a lot of people, but it rocked my world for sure. In the end, it turned out we both wanted very different things (I a relationship, he anything but), so nothing more happened, but it showed me it was possible for a guy to be attracted to me.
I continued looking. Friends gave me all sorts of advice. The hardest one being the one to stop looking and let things happen. I tried this long and hard, but found that it was something I could not do. So I continued to look on sites, gathering a bunch of very entertaining stories for friends on everything that could possibly go wrong on a date. I learned to read between the lines, to see the things that weren't said in the profiles, but I did not find the one.
And then, on an unsuspicious evening, I went to a restaurant. We were four, a good friend of mine, her neighbour and a friend of hers. And we lamented our pitiful lives, devoid of men, even though we were all four of us interesting, good-looking women. It was a nice evening, but I forgot it almost as quick as it was over. The friend of the neighbour didn't, though, because she felt I would be right for her brother Jean. So she started talking about me to him, but he wouldn't hear from it. So for 10 long months, she talked to him until he gave in and she gave him my number.
We went to dinner and it turned out she was so right it was frightening. We had a very entertaining evening and promised to meet again. A week later, Jean and I ate lunch together and later that day, he came over to my place to have dinner. And we kissed. By then, I had already told him, a veteran in sex, that I was a 34-year-old virgin and he didn't run away screaming. A relief, I can tell you.
So we kissed, and kissed and kissed. I had a lot of kissing to catch up with. But I wanted more then kissing, and so did he, so we moved to my bedroom. We didn't sleep a lot that night, nor the following day and night, but somehow I did not have sex (that is, if I follow the definition given by Bill Clinton). I was so tense about the whole thing, and so much was happening in such a short time, that I completely cramped up. And Jean was afraid of hurting me, so we had pleasurable days and nights, we explored each others bodies (I was, and still am, fascinated by his penis, it is an amazing part of his body), I could finally practice a lot of the stuff I read about before (he did adore and still adores my 'dirty' mind), we laughed, kissed, stroked, sucked and enjoyed each other until we fell asleep and then we woke each other up again to continue.
It took 14 days and 14 very entertaining nights to finally get there. It had become something of an issue by then. Why was something so natural, that apparently the biggest morons could do, not possible for me? The fact that I was so focused on finally losing my virginity did not help in the slightest. Again, I was worried that something was wrong with me. I got rather pushy, almost commanding him to thrust his penis in me, regardless of the pain, but he held his ground, wanting for me to be relaxed and to enjoy it as much as possible.
Finally, on the first of September (the first day of school in Belgium after the summer holidays, so somehow quite symbolic), it happened, in the comfort of my own bed, with this adorable guy that loved my body and my mind, who wanted only what was best for me. Most of all, who I trusted enough to give up the urge of controlling everything. Of all possible scenarios, and I made a lot of them, this was heaven. Okay, so there were no falling stars, no fire works or angel choirs singing, but instead a short sigh because of the sharp pain, soon overtaken by a feeling of pleasure, mixed with lust, love, gratitude and longing for more. Which we did and still do two years down the road.
In all the time before V-Day, I often considered going to a bar, pick up a random guy that was moderately good looking or interesting, drink enough not to care and get it over with. Or ask a good friend to do me this favor. I even considered hiring a gigolo, because at least that would give me a lot of control. Luckily, for every pro there was a contra, so I didn't. I waited, not because of a religion (I'm an atheist) and somehow I'm glad I did. Because in the end it turned out I did not only want to be deflowered, I wanted to find this great guy to share my life with.
By the way, the sex is divine. It's still getting better, 2 years down the road. And the funny thing is, all the reading paid off. Although my boyfriend had quite a few satisfying sexual relationships, we discovered a lot of fun stuff that he hadn't tried before. Oh and he doesn't mind at all that I have a lot of sex to catch up with.
There you have it. This is my story. A bit unusual perhaps, but a story with a happy ending.'