I got sent two different stories on the same day last week from two different women. The first dispensed with her virginity in much the same way that one might throw a pair socks in the bin. She titled her story, ‘My first time, funny, drunken, but not regretted’. It was the story of several generations of young people (of which I include myself) who have very little standing in their way when it comes to the loss of virginity.

‘I wouldn’t recommend young people to lose their virginity in this way’, I wrote, ‘mainly because the margin for error i.e. assault when drunk is that much wider but at the same time, alcohol related issues aside, I get so many tormented stories from people who feel like they didn't give it the 'right' person in the 'right' way at the 'right' time’ that I’ve begun to think that jettisoning one’s virginity in a devil may care manner may not be the worst thing that we could do.’ Why put so much pressure on ourselves, after all, to make the first time ‘just right’? We’d all like to have the ‘perfect’ first time but this is real life. And it’s only the first time. The first, hopefully of many different, and perhaps more satisfying times.

As if by magic, the second story dropped into my inbox, this time, from someone who did give a shit about how they lost their virginity and that’s the fascinating thing about this subject area. No matter how much time elapses, no matter how many choices we have (particularly as women), the way that we view virginity and its loss remains a deeply personal matter. My second storyteller has given herself a profoundly hard time about the way in which she dispatched her virginity. If she could fight herself in a boxing ring, she would knock herself out in less than one minute. ‘I feel angry with myself for being so submissive’, she writes, ‘and letting myself do something I knew I didn't want.’

‘You were experimenting’, I returned. ‘You were pushing your boundaries to see what it felt like….and how else would you discover what is right – or wrong – unless you tried it out? I'm guessing you probably need to get to know someone a bit better before you have an intimate experience with them’, I continued’, ‘but at least you know that now.’

We must learn to be kinder to ourselves. We have to make what we consider to be mistakes in order to learn. It’s such a profoundly human thing to do! I can’t tell anyone that though. It’s a conclusion that people have to reach on their own time and in their own way. I can only throw in my ten cents worth and say, as I would to both of these young women, you’ll have a lot of different experiences in your life but when you have your first really great time with someone, you’ll remember that. For all the right reasons.

My first time, funny, drunken but not regretted.

‘So I had been hooking up with boys for a little while at this point. I was a late bloomer, and I hadn't officially lost my virginity around the end of my sophomore year. A friend that I had not seen in a few months invited me to his house to day drink, play games, and drink some more.

My roommate and I decided it would be a good idea to go and I decided an even better idea would involve a bottle of tequila, a tiny bit of margarita mix, and approximately 5 limes.

We go over around noon and start drinking, head to dinner around 6, and pick up a keg on our way back. So the night gets pretty fuzzy from this point forward. Oops.

The boys decide they want to make a slip and slide down a tiny hill, so they take their shirts off, we soap them up, and off they go. I watched for about 10 minutes, got bored, but when the boys came back inside they all smelled deliciously soapy, and shirts did not reappear. Great look for the party.

I end up playing beer pong with the boy who invited me over, T, and I assume we did horribly. Considering after we finished our game, we headed to his room. Apparently no one at the party saw this happen, he does not remember, and I most likely didn't even know my own name at this point so I am no help.

According to my sources (other boys), they walked into the bedroom, saw him and I half-clothed and tried to get us to rejoin the party. That obviously didn't happen.

I wake up out of my blackout, to his d in my mouth, and just continue with what I was clearly doing during the blackout. He pats my head, tells me to hold on a second, and goes to his closet. After about 15 minutes of searching he walks back to his bed with a condom, puts it on and lays back down.

Well this is my first time buddy, I think. There is no way I know what I am doing, let alone am trying to do all the work. I use my really effective whiney voice and cry, ‘I have never had sex before, can you puh-lease just get on top.’

He is not going for it. He shakes his head, and I think the alcohol and all the slipping and sliding has caught up to him, because it seems he does not know English anymore.

I whine again, and he rolls over on top on me. ‘Perfect,’ I think, ‘my first time will be official, and I know he doesn't have AIDS so that is always a bonus, and he is doing all the work.’

After a few thrusts we both realize we are wayyyyy too drunk for this, and we decide we're done. As I am laying in his twin bed, imagining how I plan on getting home in the morning, I decide it is not worth it at all to spend the night. I grab his sweat shirt, his shorts, stuff my bra, underwear, and the 2 shots I have left of tequila in my bag, scoop up my phone and begin the walk home.

I call my roommate when I get outside the apartment, and although it is 4:30 am, she answers the phone and screams ‘DID YOU HAVE SEX WITH HIM?’

I have no idea how she could have known that, tell her I will tell her the story, (as much as I can remember) and then half the buttons on my phone stop working. Cool, I love walking in the dark in the middle of the night in clearly walk-of-shame-clothes.

Two boys approach me, tell me I look like I could use some company and I drunkenly decide to tell them my whole really great story. They agree that Tee should have walked me home, and I laugh and tell them I am a big girl, and plus I never would have made friends with them if he was there.

I get home, tell my roommates about the greatest loss of virginity story ever, and go to bed. The next day I wake up to a text from him saying, ‘Hey, I don't really remember what happened but lets just not talk about it.’

I respond: ‘Yea, gggts not a bgggg deal.  Gggd rather just forget about it.’

-Yeah, my ‘GHI’ key wasn't really working on my phone. Apparently I had dropped a whole pitcher of beer on it the night before. So great work me.

All in all, I would say this definitely proves I saved myself for someone special, and made that night one I will never forget.

hahahahahah.’

Check out my blog at: http://afterthemorningafter.wordpress.com

Story 2

'Recently I've been struggling with the fact that I'm no longer a virgin. I have very mixed feelings about the whole thing. It happened this past October when my long distance boyfriend was in town staying with me. I more or less made the decision I wanted to sleep with him before he had gotten here thinking 'what's the big deal?' I'm 20 years old, who cares. No big deal.

So the first night that he was here we were lying in my bed and he said something along the lines of 'I really want to have sex with you' and I remember saying something to the affect of 'okay then, why not. I don't care.' And so we did. And the entire time I remember feeling strange. I wasn't ‘excited’ or felt like I was in the throes of passion, I was just indifferent, bored. I wasn't enjoying it, it didn't feel good. I was unimpressed.

I don't necessarily think it had to do with him or his performance. I just wasn't into it. So for the next five or so days he was here we had sex several times and every time I never felt any different about it. If anything, I was upset because I felt pressured into it half the time and he assumed that because of my body's natural reaction to get 'wet' from clitoral stimulation that meant I was outrageously horny and wanted to have sex. I didn't. After the first time I just really didn't want to have sex, but I just let it happen anyway. The entire duration of his stay, I faked every orgasm he thought I was having. The whole thing never really bothered me too much, except for when my boyfriend would bring it up later in phone conversations because it always made me feel really trashy and it made me feel like I wasn't myself.

It wasn't until now, months later, that I'm really recognizing how much I regret it. I'm just unhappy with the decision I made. I wasn't ready for it. I wasn't comfortable enough with him yet. We had only been dating about a month, and only ever met each other face-to-face once before. I had gone 20 years without sex with boyfriends I had dated and known for months if not years. I feel angry with myself for being so submissive and letting myself do something I knew I didn't want. I feel like I betrayed myself and my own morals, I'm mad because I more or less allowed myself to be objectified and used. I wish that my loss of virginity was something a little more special or enjoyable, but it wasn't.’