Confessions #1: A Virginity Story

A couple of months shy of my 19th birthday, I was desperate to finally lose my virginity. And so, one early evening in May of 1993, I had “sex” with one of my brothers friends.

Well, I don’t know if you could really call it sex. It was 40 seconds of something that happened down there that I’ve rarely ever talked about because it’s so shameful. (Which I’ll be explaining in a second.)

It’s on my Top 5 list of “Why the Fuck Did I Do That?” 

We all have one.

I had always thought that he was really cute and funny. He was at our house so often it felt like having him around was normal and sometimes we’d lightly flirt with each other, but I never let myself think of dating him because he was 15, close to my brothers age at the time.

He looked older than he rightfully should have. He even had stubble on his face a few times. (Yes, I stared at him plenty, while sighing inwardly, so I noticed.)

Anyway, I was lounging on the couch watching television after coming home from my job as a teacher’s aide at a nursery school when Melvin (not his real name) knocked on the door.

“Yo, come in,” I said or some kind of shit like that.

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“Where’s your brother?” he asked me.

“Not home from school yet,” I replied.

“Can I hang out?”

“Sure.” My heart skipped a beat, but I acted aloof, cool as a cucumber. He was one of those people, who when they shined their attention on you, made you feel slightly giddy and bedazzled.

We chatted about nothing of much importance for a few minutes, joking back and forth like we often did. Then he paused and looked at me sorta funny, scrutinizingly, like he was trying to figure out if he was attracted to me or not.

Was I a SILF?

“Do you want to have sex?” So matter of fact, if I recall. My goodness, he was quite the charmer.

Now, keep in mind that I hadn’t even really kissed a boy yet, no tongue at all. (I was a late bloomer.) Sure, I had many male friends, but that’s where it ended. If any of the boys liked me more than that when I was in high school, they never let the cat out of the bag or I was too naive to notice. 

Most of my friends had already done it. I was approaching the ancient age of 19. And, up to that point, I had yet to have anyone approach me sexually since I was 13…by a 14 year-old altar boy.

“Yes,” I said, a knee jerk reaction, for I had fantasized about him many times.

Plus, this could be my only chance to lose the virgin thing. Such a stupid thought, I know now, but back then it seemed to be of the utmost importance that I rid myself of that title. 

Call it Catholic rebellion.

A condom! We needed a condom, of course! Did I have a couple of dollars? The local head shop was just a block away on Detroit road and they sold them individually. It would take him about 10 minutes by bike and back, he promised me. 

I gave him a couple of bucks and he went to go get the condom. While he was gone, I went to the bathroom and took a quick look at myself in the mirror. My make-up had that 12-hour fade thing going on and my hair was flatter than a Necco wafer.

But, I didn’t have that no so fresh feeling (you know what I’m saying, ladies), so I was good to go in that department.

This was really going to happen. Holy shitballs. I started to panic.

The minutes ticked by slowly while I waited for him to get back with our solitary prophylactic. I was also so afraid that my brother would come home and ruin it all. Or worse yet, interrupt us mid coitus.

As I mentioned above, I shouldn’t have worried.

“But he’s so young, Mer,” my inner voice whispered. 

“Shut up, inner voice! Can’t you see that I’m about to finally get laid?!”

He finally came back and we rushed upstairs to my room. I took the clothes and blanket off of my bed and laid down. I had no fucking idea what I was doing. Didn’t he have to be the one to take off my pants? Wasn’t he supposed to kiss me?

Touch my boob or something?

He was standing there looking down at me, then he quickly whipped his shorts down. I followed his example, taking off my jeans and undies.

And then…

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…well, it was over before it even began. I knew something had happened, since he threw away the now used rubber in my mini garbage can. He left my room without a single word and then I felt the front door slam.

I guess he decided not to wait on my brother to come home after all.

I remember lying there in a daze for a few minutes, trying to understand what the actual fuck had just happened.

I finally got up and redressed myself, then I walked over to the nursing home kitchen that my best friend at the time was working at. I’d often go there to wait around for her to get done, talking to the residents while she served them fish sticks. Then we would go get an ice cream cone and sit on the swings at the park.

I told her what had happened and she consoled me the best that she could.

Melvin didn’t come around much after that and I was glad. It would have been awkward.

So, I pushed the whole incident out of my head until a couple of months later when my brother confronted me. I guess Melvin had been bragging to his friends about our short interlude and my brother had gotten wind of it.

When I confirmed that it was indeed true, he looked disgusted.

“Dude, he’s only 14!” (He still ribs me now and then about it, but to his credit he has never told our mom and he so could have.)

My stomach dropped, because 15 was technically okay, maybe, but 14? That was just too young to be anything but immoral and wrong.

I still think so. I wish that I would have said no to the fucking kid and laughed him out of the house.

Wait for my brother on the porch, you flaming asshat.

It turned out that Melv often lied about his age in order to woo girls. If you take into consideration his lack of sexual prowess, I don’t think that it worked all that often.

I still refuse to count it as the first time that I had sex, but don’t be waiting for me to write about that, because it was unspectacular and not illegal. 

A total snorefest, really. 

No, it was an act of desperation from a girl who seriously didn’t think that she’d ever have sex, like ever. I seriously thought that, which I think is truly sad.

This is the first time that I have ever written about this sordid chapter in my life and I have to admit, I do feel a little bit lighter.

Thank you for reading.

12 thoughts on “Confessions #1: A Virginity Story

      1. I think there still has to be some kind of coitus for the eggs to be fertilized (Especially if the men chicken are called cocks), but I’ve never really thought about that before…

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  1. I will share with you one of my ‘Why the fuck did I do that?’ moments since you have so bravely shared one of yours.
    After wooing me with stale draft beers, I slept with a guy I had just met, in his hotel room (I COULD HAVE BEEN MURDERED), and afterward, we were lying there talking, telling each other our last names. We ended up whipping out our driver’s licenses because it turned out we had the same last name. I am adopted, so thankfully, I hadn’t just shagged one of my long lost cousin’s. And, blessedly, I was also spared from some murdering. Bad news though, my mom heard him talking about it in a restaurant a couple of days later. Not sure which was worse, the wrath of your brother, or Charlene. Either way, shit happens, and we live to tell the tale! Oh, and in my case, my mom can tell it as well. Whoopsie.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh shit! Thankfully, my mom isn’t aware of most of my past debauchery.
      I’m glad that you didn’t get murdered. Scary stuff out there!!
      Thank you for sharing, makes me feel less alone with my embarrassing tale of robbing the cradle.

      Liked by 1 person

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