Guys, what's the most unexpected way you lost your V card? Story one. I was working at a beach resort in Maine called Point Sebago, organizing activities like kids games and Botchie tournaments for the adults. One evening, around eight thirty or nine, I was strolling along the beach when I noticed some girls swimming in the water. They started yelling and giggling at me. It turned out they were skinny
dipping and inviting me to join. Hell yeah, I wasn't about to say no. I sprinted about one hundred yards to the nearest bush, quickly shed some clothes, and jumped into the water. After splashing around and giggling for a few minutes, we made our way to a dock about fifty yards away. As we treaded water, I suddenly felt something brush against my leg. Then again it was soft. Wait another leg, smooth and perfectly shaved. I glanced to my left and caught my first ever doo me look. Somehow,
I just knew exactly what it meant. I swam closer and started kissing her. While we were kissing, she grabbed my hand and swam backward under the dock. I followed without hesitation. Things escalated quickly. After a few minutes, her friend started catching on and called out urgently for her to come back. You could hear the change in her voice as she realized what was going on. About five minutes later, we finished, or at least I did. She gave me a coy smile and a wink before swimming
back out to meet her friend. As she swam back to shore, I asked her name. She paused for a moment, then said Meredith. I could tell she was lying. Just as quickly as it had started.
It was over.
I stayed in the water treading for a few minutes, letting it sink in that this amazing girl, whose real name I'd never know, had made me a man. Tonight, Meredith or whatever your name really is. Thank you before we continue. You us a quick favor. Smashed that like button and subscribe to support our channel. Story two. There was a woman who worked at our school. I'm not exactly sure what her official role was, but she worked in the office, handing out forms to students, some kind
of clerk. At graduation, those of us with a three point five GPA or higher received a special, fancier version of our diploma. Mine had metallic blue detailing for a three point seven gpa. She was the one handing them out that day. I had seen her a few times before during school, and at that age, with raging hormones, you can find just about anyone attractive. She was definitely hot for an older woman. We'd exchanged eye contact and
glances before. That was the build up. When I collected my diploma, she congratulated me and slipped me a post it note with a number on it, one hundred and forty. She told me if I was interested to meet her there for an extra reward, there was a room number at a nearby hotel, the only one within a mile
of the school. I have no regrets. I was eighteen, she was forty eight, and I guess that's when my fascination and obsession with older wins and began to be honest, the banging part itself was underwhelming, and I was nervous as hell the whole time, But doing something i'd always fantasized about and with someone i'd had the dirtiest thoughts about throughout high school made it totally worth it. And yes, whenever I tell this story, people immediately call bs.
But who cares. I know, I got some that day.
Story three. I was a chubby kid with low self esteem, mostly keeping to myself and not socializing much. Then one day out of nowhere, my dad showed up. I hadn't seen him in months. As usual, he was drunk. He said, get in the car. We start going fishing. I climbed in and we headed south. I fell asleep somewhere along the way. When I woke up, it was dark outside. I asked, are we close to the lake? He just
laughed and popped open another beer. We stopped at a gas station, and that's when I realized we were in Mexico. An hour later, we stopped at a dimly lit cantina and walked in. There were about ten women and a bartender inside. My dad handed the bartender some money and told me take your pick, pointing at the women. Her name was Rosa. She smelled of cigarettes and sheep perfume. She took me by her rough, calloused hand, leading me upstairs.
Not sure if I knew what was happening, I looked back to for reassurance from my dad, but he was already on his way to a room with one of the other women. After that, my confidence improved, I got in shape, began talking to girls, and turned out to be a handsome, self assured man. I hardly saw my dad after that, but I owe it all to him and his present on my fifteenth birthday.
Story four.
Honestly, I'm not thrilled about how it all went down, but whatever. I lost my V card fairly recently, toward the end of twenty twenty two. It happened because one of my mom's friends, who travels a lot, was coming to visit. She has a daughter, though I didn't know that at the time. I was at school when my mom texted me telling me to greet them and all that. Afterwards, I was heading back home. Luckily, I was already looking nice from an event we had at school. When I
got home, I greeted my mom's friend like usual. Just as I was about to head to my room, she called out my name and asked me to greet someone else.
I didn't think much of it.
Then the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen came out of the guest bathroom. Instead of a handshake, she gave me a hug, which was really unusual for me, and I could feel my heart pounding later, we decided to grab lunch at a restaurant. Just as we were about to walk in, she suddenly turned around and started grooming my hair and eyebrows. She said, I just wanted to fix a small thing that was bothering me. I wasn't expecting that at all. I still remember every detail clearly.
I just said, oh, okay, I wasn't expecting that. After that, lunch became really awkward. We barely made eye contact and stayed silent throughout the entire meal. On the trip back home, we started chatting a lot and really had fun together. When we got there, her parents expected her to sleep in my room with me since I was supposed to sleep in the living room, but she decided to stay in the living room instead. Her parents were skeptical, but
eventually agreed. We started making small talk on the couch and decided to put on Netflix to watch a show. After a while, she began talking about my love life and shared how her ex had cheated on her. When I started opening up, she was surprised to learn that I don't have a love life and have never really been with anyone before. Then, she started asking if the girl on the show was hot sexy cute, and I shrugged, saying sure, I guess. Suddenly, she lay down on my
lap while the show played. I looked down at her and told her she was really beautiful. She smiled and thanked me. Then she mentioned how fast my heart was beating, and I instantly got flustered. I blurted out, oh, you can hear that.
She nodded yes.
I admitted sorry, I said, just never been this close to a girl before. She looked, really, so you seriously are virgin? I nodded yeah. She said, well I thought you were lying, but now I believe you. Okay, I said quietly. There was a brief pause, then she said okay. I sep tired of this. She got up, sat on my lap, facing me, and started kissing me. After a moment, she asked, are you okay. There was a small hesitation
before I replied yeah, I said in fine. We ended up making out on the couch for a while after that. After a few minutes, we both moved onto the inflatable bed and continued to make out. I nervously asked, is it okay? If we you know do it? She replied, yeah, it's up to you. By the way, she had an IUD, so we didn't use a rubber. Looking back, that was a really stupid risk, but I was caught up in
the moment and just horny. When I was done, she smiled and said, I don't know what you did, but that was actually good.
I liked it.
That compliment completely boosted my confidence and self esteem. After that, we basically took every opportunity we had alone to be together until she left, and we stayed connected for a while until she ended up ghosting me. Story five. When I was eighteen, I played in a pretty terrible metal band. I was dating this girl at the time, and she had been dropping some not so subtle hints that she
was ready to take things further. One day, during band practice, a few of the guys decided to take a break, light up some weed, and head across the street to toss around a football. I told them I'd stay behind and chill in the basement with her, not because I had some master plan, but mostly because I had zero interest in throwing a football.
As they were.
Leaving, my drummer casually told me he had a monster energy box stashed in the corner with rubbers in it. My brother, who played bass, in the band looked back at me and said, make me proud. We all laughed and they headed out. So we start sitting on the couch watching sixteen and Pregnant of all things. She turns to me with a sly grin and says, don't you
want to make your brother proud? At that point, I practically leapt off the couch, ran to the monster box and pulled out a rubber thought I ripped it, so I tossed it and grabbed another same thing. By the time we actually started, there were a couple failed attempts on the floor, like weird little trophies. We'd just gotten going mid action in my drummer's bed, mind you, when the door suddenly opens and the whole band walks in. My drummer absolutely lost it. I yelled at them to
get out, but the moment was kind of wrecked. At that point, we didn't get to finish, and to top it all off, a few of the guys wouldn't stop making jokes about my jiggling cheeks afterward. Story six. Once upon a time I was a closeted lesbian. My friends and I used to go into our rural walmart in the middle of the night to steal beer. When we were eighteen, we usually just pocketed like one two each and walked out. One night, around two am, we headed
to Walmart to do the usual. We were passing through the toy section to head towards the beer in the back, and we rounded a corner and saw Ben. Ben was in his early twenties. He had a two foot tall mohawk that I later learned was held up by Elmer's glue. He was riding a pink tricycle down the aisle as an employee followed him, trying to get him to stop and put the bike back. We all laughed at him, and my buddy struck up a conversation. It came to
Ben's attention that we were there to steal beer. He told us he would help. Sweet He grabbed a cart and proceeded to put an entire thirty pack onto the bottom of the cart. We thought he was being cool and was going to buy all of that for us, but no, he just wheeled that cart right out into the parking lot to my friend's car. Now, at the time I knew I was interested in women, but I was still trying really hard to make friends and family
believe I was straight. I decided that if I had to have a man, this was the guy for me. I started flirting and got his number. Next weekend, a friend down in Jacksonville was having a party. My best friend said we should go, and that she was bringing her boyfriend, Philip, and that they were going to do it for the first time the night of the party. My entire puberty thus far, i'd been following my best
friend's cues. I got my first boyfriend when she did, I kissed a boy the same time she did, etc. So I figured, well, crap, okay, I guess it's time to lose my V card now too. I invited Ben and we went down to Florida. Turns out the only private place to do the deed was one bedroom. My best friend and I lost our V card together in the same bed.
LMAO.
Long story short. Ben is actually a really nice and intuitive guy. He asked me later why I seemed uncomfortable. I admitted I was gay. He was one of the first people I was honest about it with. I am now married to a woman, and Ben and I still keep in touch almost twenty years later. Story seven. I used to be pretty clueless when it came to women. I became friends with one of my coworkers who was a total ladies man. He took it upon himself to coach me. Not that I got much better, but at
least I felt less anxious. Helping me lose my virginity basically became his personal mission. He set me up with two of his friends, but let's just say my guy couldn't rise to the occasion.
That was news to me at the.
Time, but I later learned it's actually not that uncommon, especially when you're nervous. A few months went by, I started going on regular dates, but still nothing. Then he introduced me to a third friend, someone I hadn't met before. I got her number, set up a time to hang out, and drove over nerves kicking in hard. She met me at the door, took me to her room, and we sat on the bed. We barely exchanged more than a
couple of sentences before we started making out. I was still unsure, worried that things might go the same way as before, but things progressed. We did it and then just laid there cuddling for a bit. Afterward. It honestly felt like turning eight you don't really feel any different in the moment, but after it sinks in, you get that big man on campus vibe for a few days
before everything goes back to normal. For me, once the whole thing was demystified, it became way less nerve wracking, and I learned fast how important communication is with your partner. I was lucky. She was really kind and patient. Apparently my friend had told her it had been a while for me, so she assumed I'd just been out of the game for a bit. She had no idea it was my first time. Afterwards, she told me I did
really well for someone getting back into it. Looking back, I'm pretty sure she was just being nice, but it helped my confidence a lot. Overall, pretty decent experience, I said, say story eight. I made myself a promise I wouldn't risk having a kid until I had a job that paid enough to actually support one. As soon as I turned eighteen, I went straight into construction.
Where I live.
You can survive on about fifteen dollars an hour if you're not in the big cities, or if you don't mind the occasional crackhead neighbor. I was making fourteen dollars an hour, but pulling over fifty hours a week, so I figured I was close enough. I called up my buddy, told him I was ready. He called up a girl he knew, and the next thing I knew, we were going at it in the cab of his truck while he sat on the tailgate drinking a beer. He didn't
even finish his first one before we were done. He just shook his head and said, I stomped drinking at least three, so you stump, might as well keep trying. Next month, that same guy is going to be the best man at my wedding. Story nine. I was on a high school exchange trip, staying in a small town in Spain. One night, we went to a disco with the host kids, and I was hanging out with one of the Spanish girls I'd been crushing on, but I was way too nervous to even try dancing with her.
While we were chatting, a guy around our age, maybe a year or two older, came over and started talking to us. My Spanish was pretty terrible, thanks high school Spanish classes, but from what I could tell, he was in interested in talking to an American and was using the little English he knew the girl was trying to translate for us, and although her English was pretty good, she was struggling a bit. Still, we were having a good time, and after a while he offered to go
grab a round of drinks while he was gone. She nervously stammered, trying to fill me in on what I'd missed during their conversation. It turned out he was actually hitting on me, and she'd been hesitant to tell me because she wasn't sure how I'd react. This was the mid eighties, and since I was American, she thought I might get really mad and want to beat him up. I just laughed and kept reassuring her that it didn't
bother me at all. When he came back, I thanked him for the drinks and asked her to translate if he didn't understand what I was saying. I told him I was flattered, but that I'm straight. I also offered to buy the next round, but he refused, saying I was a guest. We chatted a little longer while we drank, then he said goodbye, and I thanked him again. After he walked away, she looked at me, clearly confused, and asked why it didn't bother me. I told her I had a friend who was gay and that I was
probably the only person he'd ever come out to. Then I added, honestly, I was surprised he thought I was cute enough to talk to like that, which made her laugh. She called me silly, grabbed my hand, and dragged me out onto the dance floor. We danced for a while, and when I tried to tell her I wasn't really into dancing, she just made me dance even more. Finally, I said I wanted to get another drink, and as we headed to the bar, I awkwardly admitted that I
needed to hit the bathroom first. She was waiting for me when I came out of the bathroom and suggested we go somewhere else for a drink since the disco was charging way too much. Taking my hand as we walked, she told me she needed to stop by her older sister's apartment to grab something.
On the way.
I agreed, and once we were inside, she basically pounced on me. I mentioned her sister, but she assured me her sister was working and that we were alone.
We ended up on the.
Sofa making out heavily, and she noticed I was visibly excited. As she reached down. I nervously stammered that I'd never done this before. She gave me a smirk that basically said no kidding, then gave me my first blowy. Needless to say, I didn't last long. Somehow during all that, I managed to take her shirt off. When she was done, I asked if she wanted me to return the favor, and the look of surprise on her face was priceless. She told me she'd never had that before, but was
definitely interested in trying. I admitted I'd never done it either, que another no kidding smirk, and hoped I'd be okay. Relying on all the skills I'd picked up from watching corn, I went to work. I figured I was doing all right when she practically crushed my head with her legs. After she caught her breath, she looked down and smiled
when she saw I was ready again. She told me she'd only had been intimate once before, most of this was communicated through a mix of pigeon English and Spanish, and didn't realize a guy could be ready that quickly. I told her, neither did I, and she laughed. She grabbed our clothes, and I thought it was time to get dressed, but instead she walked down the hall and led me to a small bedroom. She tossed our clothes inside and pointed to the bed. I went over and
she stepped away. Then she came back with a triumphant smile. It turned out she'd rated her sister's room for rubber after figuring out how to put one on. That's when I officially lost my v card. Story ten. I was eighteen and he was nineteen. We worked together and I had a huge crush on him. One Friday night, I ran into him while I was out and we ended up going back to his place. Things started getting hot and heavy, and at one point I excused myself to pee.
I vividly remember sitting on the toilet, thinking, oh my god, it's about to happen. I'm about to lose my v card. I went back to his room, and well, it happened. He hadn't believed me when I said I was a virgin until he encountered a bit more resistance than he would expecting. He was generously endowed, not that I had anything to compare it to at the time, and I ended up sore and bleeding for a couple of days.
The next day at work, he completely ignored me. I even overheard him mocking my inexperience to one of the other guys. I felt awful, embarrassed, and small. It definitely hit my confidence hard, but luckily it was just my pride that got bruised, not my heart. He didn't deserve to be number one on my list. Fast forward to when I was about twenty four, I bumped into him again. This time I invited him back to my place. It
was one hundred percent an ego move. I wanted him to want me to see what I'd learned in the years since we hooked up, and afterward he asked if he could see me again. I told him no, never saw him again. That was twenty years ago. Story eleven. I was eighteen dating the twenty five year old. He picked me up during my thirty minute lunch break for my first job at Walgreens. We drove back to his place, banged,
and then he dropped me off like nothing happened. I went straight back behind the register and tried to act like everything was normal. When I got home that night, I cried. At the time, I didn't really register how sad that all was. It just felt like something I needed to get over with. Looking back now typing this out, it hits differently edit. I still wrestle with how to feel about it. Part of me thinks I agreed to it.
I wanted to get it over with, but another part of me feels deeply uncomfortable, like I was taken advantage of the things that happened after makes it even clearer now that I was being prepped when I got grounded. He bought me a phone so I could sneak around and still see him. He once called my school, pretending to be my dad, just so I could skip and hang out with him. He also recorded us doing it without telling me, which I didn't even find out about
until later. I'm thirty. Now it's been a long time and I try not to dwell on it. But one thing that really sticks with me is how many people in our friend group just looked the other way.
No one said anything, no one stepped in.
So if you're reading this and ever see a situation like this happening, please speak up. Stand up for the girl who might not realize until years later that she deserved so much better. Story twelve He was my first boyfriend and we were both twenty at the time. I think I was his fourth or maybe fifth girlfriend. Before him, I'd only been kissed once. Growing up with just one parent, I never really knew what to expect from having a boyfriend.
What do people even do when they date? Movies and TV offered every kind of answer, but nothing that really prepared me. Every time we went out, he kept pushing for more. I told him again and again that for now I was only comfortable with holding hands and light kissing. This was just a week or two into the relationship. But he wouldn't listen and kept pushing until I finally gave in. His line was always just touching you. It's not banging. It's not a big deal. Everyone does it.
I felt guilty, so I led him, and every time we met he pushed for more. I started to dread going out with him, but I convinced myself it was my fault, that I just needed to grow up. He also humiliated me in front of others. Once we were out with a group of friends and the conversation turned to physical intimacy. Suddenly he loudly declared I wouldn't know. I'm not getting any Everyone turned to look at me.
At the time, I thought they were judging me, wondering how I could deny him, But now looking back, I realized they were probably thinking, how does she put up with this a hole? Anyway? A week or two after that, I finally gave in. He had already pushed me into giving him hj's and bjs, which made me really uncomfortable. At that point, I thought, what the hell I salled, just get it over with.
But I hated it.
I hated that it felt physically good, yet emotionally it was so painful. Even though it felt nice, it wasn't something I wanted. It was something I felt pressured into. It wasn't my choice. Anyway. I hope you're doing better now, and I hope you found someone you actually want to be with, not someone you feel like you have to be with.
Story thirteen.
My first real relationship was back in twenty eleven, when I was nineteen, dating a girl i'd known since high school. Early on, I told her I wanted to wait before we become intimate until I was married. I wanted that experience to be special and just for one person. She wasn't a virgin, but that didn't matter to me. About two weeks in, she started doing little things to get me all up and charged, but I kept reminding her
that I wasn't ready to have intimate relations. A couple of weeks later, we'd moved in with my best friend and we're watching a movie at the apartment when she started nibbling on my finger and then asked if I'd rather she do that to my dong. I wasn't really comfortable with it at first, but she kept saying, it's not banging, just a blowy. Well, I was nineteen and my little guy was excited, so we went to the bedroom and she gave me a blowy. The next night,
we had a small get together with some friends. I'd been drinking and was pretty wasted, while she stayed sober. After the party ended, we went to bed. She started giving me blowy again and told me she just wanted to put the tip in. I just lay there while she banged me. Afterwards, she said, you don't have to tell me you love me if you don't want to. I still remember those words clearly. I had rolled away from her and was facing the wall. Flashed forward a
couple of years and we were engaged. We moved about eight hours away from home for my job. She stayed with me for two weeks before heading back to our hometown to help a friend. What she actually did was sleep with at least three guys I know of. We broke up, but even then I tried to work things out with her. I took a job back home so she wouldn't have to move away again, hoping she'd come back to me. She never did. Instead, she slept with several of my friends and even tried to sleep with
my best friend. She told him I'd broken her heart when I ended things because of her cheating, and that she wanted revenge. She ended up giving him a blowy, but they never had intimate relations. He called me to tell me everything, which put a long strain on our friendship, but despite that, we're still close like brothers today. It took me a long time to see that her leaving was actually the best thing that could have happened to me.
She didn't work, spent my money like crazy, and I found out she had been cheating on me since we had started dating. I will say I did have a lot of fun with her. I have great memories from that period of my life, but all in all, it was time to move on.
Story fourteen.
Back in two thousand and nine, when I was twenty one, I noticed this new girl at church. She was nineteen, and I thought she had a really cute cakes. I always carried my DSLR camera with me, and when she walked in, she stopped and asked if I was a photographer. Later, I went out to eat with some older friends and she showed up with a few of them. I hoped I might get to take her home since I found out she didn't drive, but another girl ended up giving
her a ride, to my surprise. About a month earlier, I had started attending a very casual Bible study held at her aunt's house. She had just moved in with her aunt and uncle to get away from her old life. Her upbringing felt like it had been in a cult. The night I first met her, I went to the Bible study and we ended up talking late into the night. I also learned from her aunt that my own aunt, uncle,
and cousins were close friends with her family. She even invited me to watch Over the Hedge with her in the basement. She giggled through the entire movie, which I thought was really cute. When it ended, she asked if I had a girlfriend. A week later, we went on a date dinner in a movie and ended up making out for almost the whole film. Then sometime the following week we were fooling around in her aunt and uncle's
basement and things escalated after the movie. I was driving her to work every day since she didn't have a car, so we were spending a lot of time together. I didn't have many obligations then, I was living off a small life insurance payout for my mom's passing. Most days we hung out in her aunt and uncle's basement. Then, probably two or three weeks after we met, she came over to my apartment. I don't remember much about that first time, mostly feeling really nervous how amazing it was,
and pretty much falling in love with her. Afterward, I realized the rubber had broken, so we went to the local pharmacy where I bought her plan B. After that, she moved in with me and we dated for several years. I took tons of pictures of her during that time. Edit my wife would probably insist I mentioned that after dating for several years, I married the love of my life her in twenty twelve, and now we have two amazing kids.
Story fifteen, senior year of high school.
I was taking some college classes and started hanging out with the Canadian hockey crew.
There.
I got pretty close with the team captain. They were, to put it, mildly heavy drinkers. His girlfriend was absolutely stunning, though. One night we all ended up roadloading in a van, basically cruising slowly down empty dirt farm roads in rural Iowa, drinking and playing. Never have I ever, I admitted I'd never had a satisfying blowy, and his girlfriend gave me a look of pure pity. Later we crashed at a
friend's place. I was on the couch in the basement with four or five others passed out on the floor nearby. Around two am, I woke up to his girlfriend unbuttoning my pant, still drunk. It seemed like a great idea at the time. Instead of the expected blowy, she got all bare and started to do her thing. Not exactly proud of my endurance, but hey, that was my first time. I think her boyfriend was passed out in the same room. It's a little blurry. I definitely felt like a jerk.
Once I sobered up the next day, I still haven't had a satisfying blowy story.
Sixteen.
I was nineteen and enjoying myself at my first real house party. There were tons of people, plenty of alcohol, and a wild energy in the air. The crowd ranged in age, some as young as seventeen, others in their mid twenties, probably around twenty four or twenty five. You might wonder why teenagers and twenty somethings were at the
same party. It all came down to connections. The seventeen year olds were friends with the eighteen and nineteen year olds, mostly through high school, shared classes, clubs, sports, or band A lot of the older teens were younger siblings of the twenty somethings who had their own older friend groups. Basically, it was a big web of mutual acquaintance's six degrees of separation kind of deal.
Anyway.
I was usually a pretty reserved kid, though still social in my own way, but that night I got absolutely wasted and turned into a way more outgoing version of myself. I was cracking jokes with people I normally wouldn't talk to, and flirting with people I'd never have the guts to flirt with, like the older sister of my friend's sister's friend. I was nineteen and she was maybe twenty. I'm not
entirely sure either way. The flirting got intense throughout the night, finding ourselves alone together in a quiet room down a hallway away from the crowd. Flirting turned into kissing. Kissing turned into hands roaming. But the party was huge, the music was pounding, and people were everywhere, so nothing more happened just yet. The vibe was there, but the timing wasn't. Flashed forward to the end of the night, I bition
blacking in and out, absolutely wasted. One minute I was sitting at the kitchen table, and the next I found myself slumped at the end of the hallway, barely standing, with a friend telling me prospero, Finch, you need.
To lie down now.
I nodded and let him guide me into one of the spare rooms that had unofficially become a crash zone for the overly drunk. It was the kind of setup with makeshift bedding on the floor, a few people already passed out in random spots, and a large bucket in the corner just in case someone couldn't hold their liquor. I was lying there in the room, drifting in and out of sleep, or maybe blacking out, it's hard to tell. Cross the room, I noticed my makeout partner half asleep.
I rolled over toward her, She saw me, and before long we were kissing again amid the pile of pasted out partygoers, with our inhibitions completely gone and surrounded by others just as drunk. Things quickly escalated and we went all the way. I barely remember the actual banging part, just that it happened. I'm guessing it was awkward and clumsy because we were both so wasted. I can't recall if either of us got to finish, or how it
even ended. One moment I was caught up in it, and the next I was waking up the next morning with a pounding headache and a craving for Jack in the Box. She was already gone. We ran into each other at parties over the next few years, and did it a couple more times. Those moments were definitely better. We never dated, though, and eventually we both drifted away from that friend group. Lena, if you happen to recognize yourself in this story, twenty three years later. Just know
I really enjoyed our time together. You were an amazing kisser, and I hope life has been good to you. Story seventeen. I lost my V card to my current boyfriend two years ago. We've been dating for six months, and for my birthday, we went on a hike to my favorite hot springs tucked inside a slot canyon. By the time we reached the springs, it was already dark and completely deserted. We ended up doing it half in and half out of the water. It was honestly such an amazing and
unforgettable experience. On the hike back, it suddenly started pouring. We had to book it through the three mile Slot canyon, which usually takes about three hours to navigate because of all the rock climbing and tricky terrain even when it's dry. We made it out in about an hour and a half, running almost the entire way because we were genuinely worried about flash flooding, which is no joking canyons. Luckily, we
made it out safely. Definitely learned to check the weather next time, but it still stands out as one of the wildest adrenaline rushes and most incredible memories. I've ever had. Story eighteen. I was twenty six, and it was our wedding night. We took our time, slowly undressing each other, just smiling and soaking in the moment. She gently touched me, then said she wanted us to take a bath together. We washed each other in the warm water, soft and slow,
letting the nerves melt away. Back in the bedroom, we did it three times before finally falling asleep in each other's arms. Somehow I lasted a solid fifteen minutes that first time, which honestly felt like a miracle. A couple of hours later, I woke up to her quietly climbing on and taking the lead, and she continued until I couldn't keep my eyes open. We woke up again in the morning and did it all over again. That was nineteen years ago, and it's only gotten better, a lot better.
There's something really special about being able to look back on that night, smile at the memory, then turned to my right and see her still there beside me. Story nineteen. I was twenty nine. There was this girl I'd known for a couple of years. Aren't beautiful The kind of person who just draws you in. She was in a relationship that was clearly on its last legs, and I had just come out of a breakup myself. Somehow, we
started texting again and things escalated quickly. We got close, really close, spending time together at her place, talking about life and eventually what a future together might look like. Once she and her boyfriend officially ended things, our connection deepened, and soon our conversations turned into it daily texting, sharing fantasies, photos.
She even started sending me pictures in lingerie. As exciting as it was, I had mixed feelings she was still technically in a relationship and that didn't sit fully right with me. But after twenty nine years of feeling like relationships just weren't in the cards for me, dealing with rejection after rejection, it was hard not to be swept up in how amazing it felt to have someone like her be into me. I kept saying that nothing physical would happen until she was single, but the chemistry between
us was undeniable. We were absolutely crazy about each other. One evening, the three of us were watching a movie at their apartment. He was on one end of the couch, she was on the other, and I was in between. I never imagined I'd find myself in that kind of situation. But under the blanket, she and I were secretly doing things while her boyfriend sat obliviously beside us. It was a surreal mix of guilt and arousal, like my mind and body were at war. Then came a Saturday night
I'll never forget. I was driving home from work when she called. She said they'd gotten into a fight and that she was going to stay at a friend's place. Then she asked if I could come over instead. I told her i'd call back once I made up my mind. I knew that if I said yes, it would cross a line we couldn't uncross. The logical part of me screamed not to do it. I didn't want to be the guy someone cheated with, But I was in love with her completely, and after a lifetime of heartbreak and
miss chances. The emotional side of me was just I'm so tired of always ending up empty handed. I called her back and told her I was coming over. I was a mess of nerves when I got there. I just sat in my car for ten minutes, trying to calm myself down and get my head straight. Finally, I texted her that I was outside. She said she'd meet me out front. I got out of the car, and as she walked toward me, we didn't even say a word,
no hello, no small talk. We just reached each other and kissed like the rest of the world faded away. It felt like something out of a movie. To this day, that moment still stands as one of the best of my life. We went back to my car and ended up making out for a solid half hour. For context, that was only the second time I'd ever kissed a girl, so I was definitely riding a mix of excitement and nerves. Eventually, we headed inside and hung out with her friend for
a bit. After about thirty minutes, we made our way up to the guest room. I was incredibly nervous. She didn't know I was a virgin, but she was aware I'd been through my fair share of letdown when it came to relationships. We sat on the couch talking for a long time, just connecting. When we finally got into bed, she made me feel safe and at ease, which meant a lot. When we finally did it, I was still too tense to finish. Nerves got the best of me.
She was really understanding about it, though, and we eventually drifted off to sleep. We woke up again in the middle of the night, did it for the second time, and that time it went way better. I actually got to finish, which was a huge relief. Honestly, we spent the whole day at her friend's place, just talking and hanging out. May was completely in love with her and she felt the same, or at least that's what I believed. I genuinely thought I'd found my person, the one I'd
been waiting for. Over the next few weeks, we slept together a few more times at her apartment, and for a moment it felt like everything was finally falling into place. Sounds like a happily ever after, right, Not quite. Eventually she started having doubts. We hit pause, broke up with her boyfriend, and then turned around and left me for a guy she'd known for all of three weeks.
That wrecked me.
I felt used, betrayed, and completely lost. I'd gone against my own values, let myself cross lines. I said I wouldn't for what a few nights where I finally felt wanted only to get tossed aside. I cut ties completely blocked her number, deleted her off socials, and tried to move on. The next five or six months were rough. I was in a bad place, but life has a funny way of turning around. About nine months after everything went down, I met my current girlfriend and now we're
just a week away from having our first child. Life's good. Now really good. Story twenty My virginity story is a three parter. Hear me out. My first boyfriend and I had talked about being intimate and planned to do it in his room when his parents were out. After giving him a blowy, I got on to take the lead, and just then his friends walked in. They high fived me while I was right there on top before leaving. Needless to say, that completely killed the mood. So we
tried again. Since both our parents were strict, we went for a walk and planned to do it in a glen near his house, but there wasn't nearly enough foreplay. It just wouldn't fit and people kept walking nearby, so once again we couldn't make it happen. We stopped planning it, and then it happened whilst we were both away at a brass band competition in a hotel room story twenty one.
I was nineteen and he was almost nineteen. We'd been together just under a year, and at first we both said we wanted to wait until marriage to have intimate relations. But after trying other things like hj's and BJS, we started to realize maybe waiting wasn't what we really wanted. For weeks, we talked about when and how it might happen, figuring out if we should when parents wouldn't be around, and all that. I was firm that it had to be when someone's parents were out of town because I
wanted us to be able to spend the night together. Afterward, after a weekend away with friends where we shared a bed and got a little touchy under the covers but didn't go further because our friends were nearby, we got back to my place. My parents weren't home and we had a few hours before they'd be back. He asked if I wanted to do it, and I said yes, so we drove to the pharmacy to get rubber. When we got back, neither of us had changed our minds,
so we went to my room and went for it. Honestly, it was pretty good for a first time. Now we were married story twenty two. It was with my girlfriend, who was about nine months younger than me. We'd been together for around four months, and she was actually my first girlfriend. My family had just moved in across the street from hers, and we ended up going to the same school. We walked to and from school every day. We're both on the swim team and bonded over the
same music and TV shows. Our physical relationship developed gradually. We started with kiss and cuddling when we had the house to ourselves. Eventually her mom caught us, and instead of freaking out, she told us it was okay as long as our clothes stayed on. That conversation gave us a little more freedom, and we definitely took advantage of it. My girlfriend's parents were kind of hippies and definitely more liberal than the usual church going crowd we grew up
around in Texas. She told me her mom gave her the talk, took her to the doctor, and got her started on birth control. I even had a version of the talk myself with her mom, not mine. My own parents never really covered that topic, but her mom was refreshingly direct and didn't shy away from it at all. She trusted her daughter to make good decisions, but made it clear that if she didn't like me, she wouldn't
hesitate to step in. So with her support, we picked up a few books on intimacy, including some with illustrations, and slowly began exploring more together. Things continued like that for a couple of months until my birthday was coming up and she told me she had a special gift planned. Her parents and younger sisters went out of town to visit relatives for Easter, but she stayed behind. I told my family I was sleeping over at a friend's house and ended up spending a long weekend with her. It
was incredible. We took our time, got comfortable being around each other, and just enjoyed each other's presence. At one point, while we were kissing, she told me she was ready to give me my gift, and I already had a feeling what she meant. We ended up doing it throughout the weekend, and with each time we got more in sync, more confident. By the third time, she was no longer sore. By the tenth, I was the one feeling it. She
was and still is incredibly tight. A few days later, the two of us sat down for another talk with her mom, this time about what had happened and the new boundaries moving forward. She let us know that we were allowed to be intimate in the house as long as we were quiet and discreet. Her dad worked on an oil rig in the Gulf and was usually gone three weeks out of their every month, so we did our best to stick to the rules, though her mom did catch us at least once, including one time in
the poolhouse. As for why, well, I loved my girlfriend and I still do. We are married and have kids, and we continue to bang vigorously almost every day. Story twenty three. In my late teens, I went through a phase of extremely intense Christianity.
Basically, I was in a cult.
I started university at twenty and finally broke free from it. Since I had spent so many years believing I should wait until marriage, I decided that if I was going to do it, it had to feel meaningful. I felt the same way about my first kiss. I waited until I was nineteen, and in my first real relationship, it was less about the rules I used to follow and more about making sure those moments didn't feel like the years I spent waiting had been for nothing. The reality
wasn't special at all. It happened on my twenty second birthday. I was drunk, far too drunk to truly give consent. The guy was a friend of someone I was in love with at the time, unrequited love, and that person had hurt me earlier that night by kissing someone else. The guy had a girlfriend, though he'd confided in people that he'd been unhappy in the relationship for years. He took me back to my flat and I don't remember much after that, just waking up the next morning, hungover,
sore and filled with regret. He used me to vent his frustration, and I was too intoxicated to even understand what was happening in the moment. Even now, seven years later, I still find myself crying during movies or TV shows where someone loses their virginity in a safe, loving and meaningful way. It hits a tender spot because that's what I wished i'd had. It still makes me sad. Story twenty four. I was nineteen and had been dating my boyfriend,
who was twenty two, for about three months. That summer, I worked as a camp counselor and only saw him on weekends, he'd drive three hours to see me, or I'd make the trip to see I really liked him, but I hadn't told him I was a virgin. I just wanted to take things slow since I'd been in relationships before, but never anything beyond kissing or touching. He eventually brought up the fact that even though we'd been together for a while, we hadn't been intimate yet and
said he was a little worried about it. At first, I thought he was just trying to pressure me, but then he asked if I was really attracted to him or not. That honestly broke my heart a bit. I told him that I was attracted to him and admitted that I was a virgin, so I just wasn't ready yet, but I promised I would be soon and asked him to be patient with me. He was patient, and we waited until camp ended another two months before finally booking
a hotel and doing it for the first time. It was really special for me because being in a hotel allowed me to relax and get out of my head since we both still lived with our parents. Every time he tried to initiate something at home, i'd hear people downstairs and feel awkward, like it was gross to be intimate when they were so close. I've been together ever since and recently celebrated our fourth anniversary. Story twenty five. This is my favorite story. When I was young, I
worked at stop and shop. I went to Catholic school, but I worked alongside all the public school kids. There was this one boy who was really cute. Let's call him d He flirted with me for a while and finally asked me out. We went on a bunch of dates, and then he asked me to be his girlfriend.
I said yes.
I had always planned to stay a virgin until marriage, the whole Catholic school thing, but I was in love. On my nineteenth birthday, I snuck out and went to his dad's house, which was about half a mile away. It was amazing. Then just three weeks later, he broke up with me. Over the next few years, we hooked up here and there. Meanwhile, I married someone else, moved away, had a child, and gained a stepchild. Eventually, I got
divorced and moved back home. One day, while apple picking with my kids, my mom, and my original mother in law, I saw Dee's families company truck and thought, hmm, I wonder if he's around. Three days later, there was a dozen roses on my parents' doorstep with a note that said, you're as beautiful as ever. Give me a call. D I texted him, and now eight years later we're married. He adopted my son, we're working on adopting my stepchild, and we just had a baby. I always knew he
was the one, it just took some time. Even my ex husband was happy when I told him about death. He said, you were always in love with him. I'm so glad you found your way back to him. Story twenty six. I had been fooling around with my stepbrother for a while. Every night he would come into my room and we'd mess around. Sometimes I'd pretend to be asleep and he'd do his thing till he was done, rubbing his dong against my cakes. Sometimes I'd give him an HJ or he'd do it to me, and eventually
I started giving him blowies. On my birthday, I decide that I was old enough. I shared a room with my sister and his two sisters. Four mattresses sprawled out on the floor of this small room. We had to be quiet and careful, but that made it thrilling. The night of my birthday, he snuck in like usual. I stopped him and said no. He sat back, confused for a minute until I built up the courage and grabbed his dong and said use this instead.
His face lit up like a fat kid with cake.
I would know I'm a fat kid, but it hurts, so I gave him a blowy until he was done that night. The next night he came in, I told him to lie on his back.
He did.
His little guy was already excited. I pulled it out and took the lead, and we did it until he reached the finish line.
Story twenty seven.
I first saw my brother's best friend when I visited him at college. He lived in a dorm, and the moment I saw him, I liked him so much. He was twenty one and I was seventeen at the time. The second time I saw him was when I started to college at nineteen. They were still living in the same dorm and I moved in with my then roommate. We all lived in the same building for a year.
College started in October, and by January it was obvious to everyone around us, including my brother that what me and his friend had wasn't just chemistry, it was something real. We went on our first date in February and spent some time sneaking around until March, when everyone knew we were officially together. We did it for the first time that March, and it remains one of my absolute favorite memories. I was so in love, completely uninhibited, and we were
incredibly compatible in that way. He never loved me, though, so my college years involved a lot of heartache on my end. Fortunately it ended eventually, and I met my husband, who showed me that good intimacy and respect can absolutely coexist in the same relationship. Thank you for watching. If you enjoyed this video, be sure to give it a thumbs up, subscribe, and hit the bell icon so you never miss an update.