Your stories
I often think, as I go about my virginity related business, cripes, there are a whole lot of ways to lose one’s virginity. Charon QC, recently told me that each time he made love to a new woman, he felt a little bit like he was losing his virginity all over again, which I thought a rather lovely sentiment.
Must pin him down and interview him sometime. I’ve been trying for ages but he’s a bit slippery. He is a lawyer after all, lets say no more on the matter.
Seriously, he makes an interesting point. If virginity loss is too nebulous a concept to carve into stone, who is to say that we cannot lose our virginity more than once. Because there are all sorts of ‘firsts’, and how we perceive them is a very personal business.
Which brings me to Ed Seeker and a story he recently mailed me. If you want a to take a rollercoaster ride into the mind of a man, have a read of ‘MEN Speak the Unspeakable’, the book that Ed co-authored with Mickey Elias.
The most pertinent part of Ed’s story, for me at least, is that he finds the second experience, the experience of ‘receiving’, more powerful than his first heterosexual experience.
Of course, men have been ‘receiving’ since time began but they have not always held with the idea of virginity loss. In days gone by, virginity was a concept more often applied to women than men.
In the 21st century we have come over all ‘equal opportunities’. We have crossed a gender divide that placed men firmly on one side of the fence and women on the other. The waters in the middle are muddy and metrosexualized man no longer needs to lurk behind the beauty counter in Boots because he has his own section of products to choose from. Before I stray into new territory, I shall finish with a question for you….
What is your definition of virginity loss? Is it the straightforward union of a penis and a vagina?
Can it only happen once? Or can we have multiple virginity losses?
Perhaps it is an emotional change, as opposed to a physical one?
What do you think?
I am all ears….
Email katemonroe@yahoo.com or comment.
Remember, all names will be changed to protect identity.
Edward Seeker. Born in 1966. Lost virginity aged 21 and 26
I am a genuinely bisexual man, as opposed to ‘afraid to come out of the closet’ gay man, aged forty-one, who’s been married, and had equally sublime and heartfelt straight and gay relationships.
I lost my ‘straight virginity’ aged twenty-one to my later wife of ten years. We had a fairly ‘open’ relationship, trusting and honest, and as my need to explore my homosexual urges grew irrepressible, I found myself in spring 1992 in a well-known gay cruising area in the west of England. Amusingly, my Dad drew my attention to the area one day as we drove past, ‘that’s where the queers meet’, he told me.
Aha! I thought.
I had been there a few times before and had some fumbled mutual wanks that were as exhilarating as they were frustrating. On this particular night, I made eye contact with an older guy who was very handsome, and who gave off a gentle yet powerful masculine vibe. We kissed passionately outdoors for some time before he invited me back to his place. I’d never undressed for sex with another guy, and it was very slow and sensual, romantic even.
His home was large and comfortable, and I felt very at ease with him. Touching and being touched, full body contact, completely naked was quite mind-blowing, with twenty something years of gay fantasy to catch up on. We spoke little and I found myself acting quite shy and felt very young and inexperienced.
I needed, more than anything, to experience being fucked, having always been the ‘fucker’, and Mark duly obliged. I recall the sudden fear as he lubed my arse, and as he attempted to enter me, a feeling of being out of control swept over me. It took him a while to get inside, he was quite well hung and my first reaction was of an agonising burning sensation, extremely painful and sharp.
I remember lamely trying to jack myself off while he was inside me, but noticing that the pain had made my erection disappear. It did get better as he persisted and he was keenly aware of causing pain, and I don’t think he stayed inside me for very long at all.
What remains more imprinted on my memory is the closeness we experienced afterwards, hugging and holding and talking. It turned out that he rarely fucked, preferring to be on the receiving end; and I found myself more interested in exploring his body with my hands. ‘You’re very good at stroking’, he said to me.
I’d probably only been there for a couple of hours when I left; it was a weekday, with work the next day. I think we exchanged numbers, but we never made a second date.
I remember when I got home, a sense of feeling less excited and elated than I thought I would – often the case, I find, when reality and fantasy have a huge gap between them! And almost, if you’ll pardon the pun, a sense of anticlimax.
It felt different to losing my virginity with my girlfriend at twenty-one. There was a feeling that the ‘first’ virginity was almost a burden to be rid of as soon as possible, almost a stigma, (for blokes anyway), that got worse the longer it was borne.
With this second experience, it was more of a hunger to find out what it was like to receive. To be the one penetrated was very different; it lacked the sense of ‘losing it’ in a sense, and was, I think, more powerful for that.
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