I Lost My Virginity At 15
I physically lost my virginity when I was 15, but mentally it was gone long before that. I started to think about losing it when I was 13 or 14, when I realized that for some reason I, as a girl, was expected to be prim and proper and virginal and pure, but boys were allowed to be randy and promiscuous and certainly not virgins. I remember having one of those great WTF-Moments at school one day, when I looked around the class and thought to myself, 'so, if I had been born a boy, like one of them, I could do just about anything I wanted with a girl, but since I'm a girl, I'm not supposed to want to enjoy myself. ' I really had that thought! A boy who is active is a Romeo, a Casanova, a Lothario, (OK, I didn't hear that one until I was older!), but a girl was a ... ****!
I had discovered the joys of ************ when I was 13, and I was raised in an open enough family that I knew there was nothing wrong with pleasuring myself. I couldn't get it, this disconnect, this idea that something that was soooo pleasurable was somehow also soooo bad.
My daddy, to his credit, never preached chastity or virginity to me. He did preach self-reliance, self-respect, and the joys of education and freedom. So while I came to understand early that there was no way I was going to make it to my marriage a virgin, neither was I going to get pregnant as a teen either!
So there I was, 15 years old, with this intact hymen that I really didn't understand the purpose of, ready to just get this the hell over with. But somehow I also knew that there would be wine-filled nights with girl-friends when the very topic of virginity-loss would come up, (so to speak), and I wanted to at least have a decent time with it!
The answer to my problem was a 17 year old boy I will call Jimmy. He was in my school and he was pretty as hell. Normally I don't use the term pretty for boys, or if I do, it's disparaging, but Jimmy was, well, pretty!
Jimmy had curly dark brown hair with blue eyes and a crooked, self-deprecating smile... he always smelled clean, with the hint of a perfumed soap on him, and his clothes were always pressed and he wore them well.
Best of all, he liked me! That was important... if I were to have sex with him I at least wanted to like him! (I lost that inhibition a bit later, then, fortunately, found it again.)
We dated for several months and kissed and fondled each other, but technically we were still virgins.
Then the day came when we were out of school at around 2:30 and his parents weren't due back till late. This was the day I had planned for.
Several months before I had confided (without details!) my intention to my OB/GYN. She prescribed birth control pills for me, at my request. She gave me a talk about STDs and I took her seriously, although I knew Jimmy was clean of them, but her advice came in handy later on in my life. I did tell my daddy I had pills, and said they were there to regulate my period. It was a lie, my first grown-up lie to my daddy, my first lie as a woman to a man. He accepted my explanation, although I am not to this day at all sure he believed me, but I am sure he was happy I was using birth control. In any event, I was ready for Jimmy.
We went to his house, to his room, to his bed. We took each others clothes off. I got to see the reaction of a straight male to a woman's body... I must say, I was impressed! I knew in theory all about the differences between men and women and I had seen pictures of naked men and erect penises... but not like this! Wow! I did that to him???!!!??? Just by being naked in front of him???? I felt the beautiful feeling of naked skin on naked skin, felt my vaginal juices flowing, felt his tongue on me... and felt a man's *********** within me... Again, wow! (But did not have an ****** myself.)
I felt a pain in me when he first slid in, but not a bad one. There were a few smears of blood when we looked, not much, and he carefully took a cold, wet towel to them at my suggestion. I wasn't sure that there would be much of an intact hymen down there, since I had ridden horses from the time I was a little girl, and I had heard that activity like that would break the membrane... so I was not very surprised that it wasn't a big thing.
He held me after wards, and I put my arm around him and he used his hand on me, a gentleman, and then, after I came, he brought his hand up to my mouth for me to kiss. Every man I have ever had sex with from that day on, whenever he has put his hand between my legs, has brought his fingers up for me to smell and kiss and lick. I guess this is a technique taught in every man's locker room in the whole country.
After a nice period of cuddling and deep, serious, adult conversation, (That was great! Yeah, it was. Totally fantastic, wow! Oh, hey, wow!) I got Jimmy hard again -- the glories of teenage boys! -- and this time I got on top of him and rode him and felt my first ****** from intercourse, felt that incredible moment of total loss of control. Felt him come again inside of me just as I was finishing, and then I collapsed on him.
Now THAT felt like it was something!
When I went to my own home that night I took a shower and dressed in my usual Tee and jeans. It was my daddy's turn to cook that night, but I went into the kitchen to help him.
I felt different standing there, talking to him. For the first time I was aware of my daddy, my father, as an adult man. I don't mean anything incestuous here at all! I just suddenly was aware of his body, his scent, not just as my daddy's scent and body, but as a man's. I was more aware of my own body and scent too, I was aware of my size compared to his, aware of my large, round breasts, aware of the scent of woman that I could now smell on myself.
Just a couple of years ago, in a totally different conversation, in a totally different setting, he mentioned to me that he noticed a growth in my maturity when I was 15, that I started to really carry myself more as a woman at that age, less as a girl. So he noticed this change in me too, although he didn't say anything about that particular day. But he too had noticed that I had changed.
I didn't tell him why.
