I lost my virginity in two parts. Okay, maybe that's technically impossible. I officially lost my virginity after a prom, probably like many other girls that night. It wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible either. The guy just turned out to be a jerk. The second time a few months later was with the guy I wish had been my first. Looking back now, I like to think of him as my first lover.


I don't know why I've been thinking about losing my virginity. Maybe it's because I've written recently about my first facial, then my first experiments with candle wax. Whatever it was, I spent some time reminiscing about the good and thinking about what wrong with the bad.

 The first was Justin. 

“Do you want to go to the prom?” He asked casually a month before prom in a text message.

“Of course,” I typed back. I heard through the rumor mill that he was looking for a prom date after his girlfriend dumped him. I didn't think he would ask me. He was a senior, drove a Mustang and one of the cool kids that spent more time worrying about what to do that weekend, then homework.

 My parents tried to change my mind. I was just sixteen. He was older, a senior and didn't have the best reputation, but my parents weren't going to stop me if I really wanted to go with him. However, they ordered me home by midnight.

In the month before the prom, we went on a few dates. A couple extremely hot dates that ended up in the back seat of his car.

“I'm not ready yet.” I said as he smothered me with his kisses, with his hands and with his body in the back seat.

“You're a virgin?”

“Yeah,” I said softly as I nodded my head. How did he know? My face turning bright red.

“Is there anyway you'd want to change that tonight?”

“Not tonight.”

“Okay.” He said okay, but his frown said otherwise. “What about after prom?”

“I have to be home by midnight that night.”

“If you want to, I can get us a hotel room. Some of the guys were talking about getting a room for a party, but I'd rather just spend some time alone with you.

“My parents would kill me if I'm not home by midnight.”

“We'd have time after the prom is over and I'd make sure to get you home by midnight.”

“Let me think about it.”

As he drove me home in his Mustang that night, I was sure that we wouldn't be having sex prom night. I wasn't waiting for marriage, but I always pictured losing it with someone special. Someone that I cared about deeply. Someone that I had been seeing for a long time. However, things changed.

I went dress shopping with my friend Becky. Then lingerie shopping. She wasn't a virgin and was very much planning to sleep with her boyfriend after prom. She helped me pick out a tan and black lace bra that would work with my dress and a matching thong.

The nylon fabric was soft, the lace sexier than anything I had in my underwear drawer. What was the big deal. It was just sex. He was hot, an amazing kisser when his hands weren't groping all over me. Plus, he seemed to care about me. He said he imagined this lasting longer than just prom.

I put on that lingerie that afternoon before prom thinking there was a good chance that he would be taking it off. He didn't end up taking it off for me, but it didn't end up staying on either.

When the prom ended, he made a beeline for his father's BMW. I struggled to keep up in my heels, but we were one of the first cars out of the parking lot.

We were the first to check into the hotel too. As we registered, the hotel clerk watched me. He eyed the low v-neck of my dress. He starred at my cleavage flowing out of the dress. I felt his lust. I felt like he knew what I was going to do upstairs in the hotel room.

The elevator ride up, I couldn't believe that I was going to do it. I was going to lose my virginity to him. In this hotel. Very soon.

My heart pounded. My hands jittery as I followed him into the room. Not as nice as I fantasized. Just a plain, generic hotel room with a tan and green color scheme. The TV wasn't a flat screen, but at least the bed looked clean. It would do.

I imagined him serving wine, or lighting candles. Instead he offered me his flask, then sat on the edge of the bed.

“So,” I said. “We're here.”

“Yes, we are,” he smiled. “We don't have much time.”

I expected him to push me against the door, take me over with his lips. Or maybe pull me on to the bed and let our lusts take over. At least, give me some sort of instruction. I knew he wasn't a virgin.

He just sat there. This was real. This wasn't a fantasy.

“Why don't you take off your dress,” he said finally.

“Okay.” I breathed in sharply. I was nervous about this part, almost as much as the actual sex.

I had never been completely naked in front of a guy before.

I slipped off my heels first and he starred at me, which made it even worse.

“Help me with my zipper?” I turned around and he stood up behind me. His hands ran up my arms, then found the zipper on my back. He pulled it down and I held the shoulders so it didn't fall down right away.

I turned around and looked into his eyes. His eyes were busy studying my body, eager to see the dress fall. I debated grabbing my handbag and running out the room. Part of me really thought about it. Wait for the right guy. It wasn't him. However, the other part of me wanted to get it over with. See what it was all about. Wanted him to be my first. That side won.

Here goes nothing. I slid it off my shoulders and it fell to my feet. I stood in front of him wearing not much. His eyes explored me, examined my curves. I'm nowhere near skinny like his ex-girlfriend. But we did have something else in common. His eyes focused in on my over developed chest.

I reached back and unhooked my bra. It fell to the floor. His grin grew.

The only sound besides my nervous breathing was the air duct. Awkwardly, I pushed down my thong. I stood back up in front of him completely naked except my beaded necklace. I'd never felt so naked.

“Why don't you have a lay down here?” He stood up and pulled the cover back.

I still debated running out of the room, but instead I climbed on to the bed. It felt like any other hotel bed. The sheets a little rough from being washed hundreds of times. This was the bed where I was going to lose my virginity.

I rolled on to my back and watched him rush through taking off his tux. Under a minute, he had all his clothes on the floor next to mine. I assumed I was supposed to be turned on by his naked body – the first male I had ever seen, his cock erect.

I had seen cocks before. I wasn't completely innocent. I had given a few handjobs and a blowjob, but there cock didn't compare to his. Thick and long. I had been fingered before, but I had no idea how he would fit into me.

He climbed on to the bed and I opened my legs for him. Would it feel amazing? How much would it hurt? Should I have waited? What if somehow my parents found out? What if he told the other guys at school. Would I be different afterward?

He climbed on top of me, his warm body weighing down on me. His hands fumbled with my tits. His hard cock pressed against my waist. He kissed me. My doubts and worries faded away.

It was happening. His cock pressed against my lips. We awkwardly moved around for the right position.

For one last second, I was still a virgin. Then he pushed himself into me.

I wish I could say it was amazing. I wish I could say it turned me into the sex addict that I am now. I can't say either of those.

His cock pushed painfully into me. I could feel his cock invading into me. It hurt, later I'd figure out because I wasn't turned on. I wasn't wet.

“You're so tight.” He spoke, completely unoriginal.

Painfully, his cock filled me. He was slow, but I wouldn't call it gentle. It hurt like someone tearing me apart from the inside, but we were having sex.

He wrapped his arms around me as he slowly started slide his cock around inside of me. I couldn't believe a boy was inside of me. I was having sex.

“Does it feel good?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I lied. It didn't exactly feel amazing that's for sure, but I was one of those girls who had sex.

At one point, it did start to feel a little enjoyable. Not great, but pleasurable. Enough where I started thinking this might be something I want to try again. However, my lack of wetness soon replaced those thoughts with a sore feeling I couldn't bear. I couldn't wait for him to finish.

Of course, I didn't have to wait too long. He lasted probably two or three minutes, maybe five. He came, his cum flooding inside of me. I felt a growing wetness inside of me, but that was about it. I probably should've made him wear a condom. I wasn't on the pill yet and who knows where his cock had been. But I didn't think of that until after he came.

He rolled off of me. Like the lack of foreplay in the beginning, he didn't cuddle or anything along those lines.

I knew by the time we climbed out of bed, that I wished my first time had been with someone else. I didn't regret it, but I felt used. I felt like I was just a tight pussy with a pair of big tits to him. With his cum deposited inside of me, he took me home – an hour before my curfew.

His text messages slowed over the weekend, then stopped by Monday. He avoided me in school and when we finally ran into each two days later, he didn't have to say a word. He just wanted to fuck me. I learned my lesson, but it did open me up to the world of sex. Three months later when I had sex the second time, I was ready, willing and maybe even craving it.