I didn’t so much lose my virginity as I was relieved of it. I was 21 when I finally gave up my v-card to my on-off/drama-filled/never-really-knew-where-we-stood boyfriend, J. I was so ready to stop being a virgin—it was starting to define me. But I had waited so long because I really wanted sex to be special. Meaningful. And frequent! When I was about 19 I figured that since I’d held out that long, I might as well wait until I found someone special.
And then it turned out my someone special had a waterbed. Yes, I lost my virginity on a waterbed. God knows why J had a waterbed in 2005 but he did and I was too in love with him to suggest, say, a stationary mattress for my first time having sex. I don’t recommend this.
The liquid-filled bed was like a third person in the room with us, gurgling and sloshing around like a big fat blubbery stomach. It made way more noise than a regular bed frame, to the point that J stopped in the middle and said the worst thing: “I can’t stop thinking about my parents.”
“You…you what?” I stammered, hoping I’d misheard him.
“No, not like that or anything weird,” he quickly backtracked. “I’m just worried that this damn bed is super loud!”
Well, it would have been the only loud thing. Based solely on movie sex scenes, I expected to either be in serious pain or serious ecstasy my first time. But really, I didn’t feel all that much. At least not in my lady regions. Emotionally though, I was more in love with J than ever. He was sweet and slow and nose-to-nose, always asking me if I was okay. It was so Cruel Intentions!
But, eventually J’s paranoia got the better of him and we stopped. It was a fairly anti-climactic experience (in every sense of the word) but the real fireworks came the next morning, when my two best friends, Sam and Chrissy, met me for lunch.
As I gushed about J and how happy I was and how I thought this really marked the turning point in our romance, I noticed that my friends were wincing at every word.
“We need to tell you something,” Sam began. “Remember that rumor that J was sleeping with Lizzie?”
How could I forget! I’d had a meltdown over gossip that he was hooking up with one of my friends. But J swore up and down that it was totally false.
“Well,” Chrissy finished, “he was. We drove around all night looking for you to tell you before you slept with him but we couldn’t figure out where J lived! We’re so sorry honey!”
I sat there numbly as they poured out the details. I’d waited 21 years for this experience—who knew I needed to hold out 21 years and one day?
I ended up escaping to Italy for my study abroad about a month later and spending the entire time getting over J. Now, when I meet a boy I’m dying to have sex with, I make sure that I take a good hard look at the kind of dude he really is and wait as long as possible before sleeping with him.
Then I wait one more day.
Are you waiting a long time to have sex? Did you wait a long time? How did you know the time was right for you to lose your V-Card? Tell me everything in the comments!