I was a unicorn among humans on my college campus. When I would tell people about my status, they would look at me like I had two heads. I was a rarity, a spectacle, an oddity on most college campuses. I was a virgin in college, up until very recently.
I come from a religious family. My parents were virgins when they were married and my sister is not a virgin but lost her virginity to her boyfriend of like a billion years, so there’s always been this expectation for me to follow that same path: either wait until I’m married or at the very least wait until I’m in a serious relationship with someone I can see myself marrying.
But after a few years in college, I began to really resent my virginity. It started to feel more like a burden rather than something I cherished. I was already considering losing it to someone more casual than a serious relationship when I started talking to this guy, who we’ll call Lee.
Lee and I had been talking for awhile when the subject of sex came up. He knew I was a virgin and that I was unsure if I wanted to have sex yet, but at the same time, I had implied many times that I would have sex with him eventually. And I really meant it. I liked him and trusted him, we were really good friends and had been hooking up for around five months, so I was comfortable around him. I figured of all people, he’d be the best person to do it with. It also didn’t hurt that he was insanely attractive and from the stuff we’ve been doing for the past five months, I could tell he wouldn’t disappoint in the sack.
I got the text from Lee that night to come over and I was stoked. I hadn’t seen him in awhile, but we had been sending each other dirty Snapchats in the mean time, which built up a ton of sexual tension. I practically flew to his apartment. When I got there, we continued our routine of making small talk in the kitchen (“How are classes? What are your plans for summer?” etc.) and then heading downstairs to “watch Netflix.”
That’s when tragedy struck. As I walked down the steps, my natural clumsiness and slight inebriation caused me to slip and fall (or as Lee describes it, dive) down half the flight of stairs. Luckily, he caught me at the bottom before I slammed my head into the front door, but his saving catch did not save my foot from slamming into the steps. The pain immediately shot up from my foot and I knew it was more than just a bruise.
My first reaction was to laugh uncontrollably as I tried to wrap my head around the fact that I literally ate it right in front of my hookup. He was really cool about it and didn’t make me feel more embarrassed than I already was, which was good. (See? I told you he was a good guy.)
But as I laughed, I simultaneously gripped my foot and exclaimed how bad it was hurting me. My hookup continued to reassure me that I “would be fine” and “not to worry about it.” I think he just didn’t want to lose his chance to get a blow jay out of the evening, but for some reason, I believed him. I tried to ignore the throbbing pain in my foot and continue on with the sexy times.
After a solid make out and blow job sesh, we transitioned to the privacy of his bedroom. At this point, the pain in my foot was rough but not unbearable. After some more hooking up (including another blowjob…what can I say? It’s my thing), he asked me the question I knew was on his mind all night: “Do you want to have sex?” I knew it was coming, but for some reason, I still hesitated. Oh yeah, maybe because my foot was two times its normal size and it hurt to wiggle my toes. Even though I knew I was technically “ready” to have sex, this wasn’t how I imagined things would go down. I managed to justify it by reminding myself that no one’s first time is perfect, and I pulled him closer into me.
I asked him to get a condom (I was not about to risk getting pregnant on the night I lose my virginity — this is not The Secret Life Of The American Teenager), so after speed texting his roommates to find one, he finally returned to bed, wrapper in hand.
At that point, there was no turning back. I was scared and nervous but mostly excited. This was the moment I had been waiting for my whole life. He asked me one more time if I wanted to and I said yes, and the next thing you know my knees are by my ears and I’m literally experiencing the best feeling/sensation ever (who knew I was missing out on so much?!).
The actual virginity losing part hurt for a solid two seconds before transitioning to amazing greatness. I didn’t bleed, I managed to try out a few positions, and I even had a few of awkward moments, but it was pretty much your standard “first time” scenario, except for the uncomfortable pain of my broken foot. Honestly, I expected to feel different afterward, like something had changed, but I really felt the same. I actually had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t a virgin anymore.
In the morning I got up to leave, only to realize that I could not walk at all. My foot was so swollen I could barely stand on it. So after frantically calling all of my friends to come pick me up, one of my friends drove over to come get me. I went to the hospital and found out that, indeed, my foot was broken. Yippee.
Looking back on it now I guess I’ll say that even though I broke my foot and had to go to my first day of classes on crutches with a little boot, it was definitely worth it to ignore the pain and have sex.
Hey, sometimes a girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do..