Looking back on the last 10 months, I wonder if I can remember a time when my sex life was different. I mean, of course I can. Of course I can remember being mercilessly teased for being overweight and being rejected by more guys than I’ve had desserts in my life. I had no sex life.
To be fair, I didn’t know much about sex back then. Fuck, I still don’t know an awful lot about sex, although I write about it on an almost daily basis.
I’m a rarity, I’ve been told. I may just be one of the only ones left. I mean, you don’t often see a virgin blogging about sex, do you? I’ve only encountered one other virgin sex-blogger in the past 10 months, and she’s had sex since.
My obsession with sex started when I was a wee nipper. My earliest memory was a futile attempt to stay up late and watch Red Shoe Diaries, but falling asleep whilst trying. Those days were marred by my parents’ twisted sex life. Not that I knew much of it, but I knew enough to know that my dad hiding his dirty magazines under my bed was a bad thing. I actually recall finding one of his porn movies in between stuff we had packed to move. Right next to my tape of Austin Powers that I still needed to bring back to the video rental place.
So, combine that with an incredibly poor sexual education, and it made for one very confused budding teenager, who thought the growing patch of hair on her pussy was a piece of dirt.
Fast forward a good decade and a bit, and here I sit, typing this very post at the request of Mr Beckett. What changed?
It was set in motion two years ago, when I started masturbating at the age of 18. I even remember the day, but not the date. I remember gasping a very excited “WHY HAVEN’T I DONE THIS BEFORE?” in the heat of the moment. The day I reached my first orgasm, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I mean, if that was what I had avoided for years and years, I ‘d missed out. Big time.
After a few months of nightly orgasmic bliss, I changed medication. I was (still am) on anti-depressants at the time, and I needed a different dose. If I had known that changing doses would fuck up my ability to feel pleasure, I wouldn’t have bothered.
I was in despair for a few months, until I changed meds again. And voila, there was my orgasm again, showing up after hiding away in a little corner for some time. The day after I got the orgasm I wanted, I sent out a minion (my mum, embarrassingly enough) to buy me a vibrator at the drug store. I still have it, and it’s one of my most cherished possessions. So much so, that I have even given it a nickname. I refer to it on the blog as “The Pin”, because it looks like an inverted bowling pin.
Fast forward a couple of months. My first sex-ed book in my hands, and I’m even more eager to learn now. I’ve developed a slight obsession with sex-ed books, by the way. As in, I have a lot of them.
I tried to write about sex. I aspire to be a writer, and at that time, I was attempting a novel. I couldn’t write sex without getting the giggles though.
In February this year, that all changed. After a small personal disaster, I started Lady Laid Bare, my blog, and my official venting ground for anything sexual. And a wonderful chain of events was set in motion. I met friends, who introduced me to friends. I got to know more about the world of beautiful porn and sex positive lifestyles. And I opened up and found what I thought was missing from my life.
Strength to go on.
And, most importantly, I figured out what I wanted to do in my life. I wanted to write my arse off and change erotica through the words flowing from my brain to my fingertips.
There are so many stories on my site, and so many still itching to come out, and I’m very excited to write more and do more. I even got an acceptance letter from a publisher a few weeks back! I’m actually being published this year!
Sex is a massive part of my life, and I wouldn’t change that, even if you gave me a bajillion euros. Every time I masturbate, I feel brand new. Every time I manage to write something about my sexual experiences, I feel cleansed. Every single fucking time I write about two characters connecting and having sex, I’m there with them.
Sex was a lifesaver.
So, I guess you wonder why I am still a virgin? Yeah, I can’t answer that one. Simply because I have no fucking clue. The obvious answer would be my weight; but fuck weight, anyone should be able to have sex freely and not be ashamed of how and what they want and do.
I’m slowly building up my self-confidence to flirt with men and women. That’s another thing that my blog helped me to do. Come out.
Ten months ago, I quit school. And I proved everyone wrong. I am proud of who I am today. And, with my 21st birthday only a week away, I can truly say that I’ve never looked more forward to it.
So, yeah. That’s how I became a sex blogging, sex positive virgin. I hope to lose the virgin part at some point in the next few months though. I’m too damn keen on sex to not have it.