Illustration by Thomas Pitilli
Male • 19 • Miami, FL
I had made it through high school and my first year of college as a virgin. I never really discussed my status with anyone — I just played along like one of the experienced ones. Being in a fraternity, I had access to girls, parties, alcohol, and drugs. There were girls who I hooked up with at that point — sometimes getting as far as third base — but I had never had sex. It wasn't for lack of trying either. I'd prod potential partners with alcohol, suggestions, whatever I thought might work other than a relationship. Finding a girlfriend was one avenue I had no interest in, and having little experience, I didn't quite know how to hook up.
After my freshman year away at college, I came home to find a summer job. There was a cute girl two years younger than me who'd had a crush on me in high school. When I was a senior and she was a sophomore, she used to write me poems and notes which she'd cleverly hide in my locker or somewhere else for me to find. We had flirted but never really dated; she was cute and all, but like I mentioned, I wasn't into having a girlfriend.
When I got back to town, I called her and we started going out. I still wouldn't call her my girlfriend really — more like a party friend. She probably thought of me as a boyfriend, but I'd just bring her along as an alternative to hanging out with my buddies. Plus, then we'd go somewhere and make out or she'd let me feel her up. I was starting to see the benefits of this girlfriend thing. And all my friends thought she was pretty cool.
One night we found ourselves at a friend's house. We ended up smoking some pot and drinking some beers. My friends ducked out and we had a bedroom all to ourselves. After we made out, I began my advancement on her, heavy petting, under the shirt, bra off, hand down her pants — nothing we hadn't done before. She told me she'd had sex before and I didn't say anything; I let her assume I was experienced too. She told me she was on the pill but still didn't want me to come inside her. I was fine with that — hell, I was about to have sex!
I got inside her and was really enjoying myself. Then it all went downhill fast. She asked me if I'd come yet and I said no. Maybe it was the beer or the pot, but I was lasting longer than an inexperienced virgin should last (probably a good three minutes or so at that point). Then she asked me to stop, and I did. She said that we shouldn't be doing this because we weren't in love. I can still remember her words: "We're not making love, we're making like." Making like was fine with me, but apparently not her. She cried and made me take her home.
Despite the trauma, I was still pretty jazzed about no longer being a virgin. That unique feeling of being inside a woman was so thrilling to me. As soon as I got home, I went right into the bathroom and masturbated. We spoke several times after that, but I think she realized I just wasn't a relationship kind of guy. I really didn't love her and I'm not the kind of person to just say it to get my way. I ran into her a few years later and she was quite cold to me — not that I blame her — but I've evolved quite a bit since then. The rest of my college career and a little beyond was filled with many more partners, some more, some less memorable. But like most people, good or bad, I will always remember my first time.