A Powder Room Talk reader sent us an email sharing her story on how she lost her virginity to a married man at the age of 26.
I never expected rose petals and candles, some raw part of me thrilled at the seediness of motel rooms with battered mattresses and on demand porn. It seemed dangerous and exciting, sex on the down low with my secret soon to be lover. For the longest we would flirt in his office and he would always tell me "We could go any where you want, it will be special."
His hands touching me with his hard on straining to get through the layers separating us. I was 26, a virgin, and so ready. This was different from frisky fondling in back seats, basement apartments, or the petting in the back row of movie theaters, those boys I dated were toys I played with until I met the one. I was determined to follow my Christian beliefs and be a virgin until marriage. I never suspected I would be 26, single, and lusting after an older married man who was my coworker.
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Once when I was 23 I decided that my virginity was too much of a burden, it was preventing me from having the carefree sexual escapades my friends bragged about. I had never had a steady boyfriend; I had no hook up stories, or friends with benefits. It seemed my choice was limiting me with men; no dates had flourished into relationships once the guy realized we wouldn't get beyond the boobs. I was boring and my life was one straight line of prudishness. After holding out for so long I decided to finally do "it" with an older man I was friendly with and had already fooled around with briefly. As I lay on his bed watching him put on a condom, my naked body was rigid with tension. I felt nothing for him and couldn't imagine my first time would feel so cold; I wanted to be in love and to be loved. As he began to climb on top of me I couldn't help cringing and easing away from him, he stopped and stared at me, he said very softly "we don't have to do this" and with those words I was up, getting dressed, and apologizing. I cried all the way home at my own foolishness but pleased that my virginity was intact.
Three years later after months of groping in an empty office and hungry kisses in stair wells during the lunch break, I was ready. I was in love with a married older man who made my body quiver with longing. I didn't care about his marriage, his family, or our work relationship, I wanted him. No one had ever aroused such desire in me; his winks when we passed each other through out the work day would send me into frenzy. He was my secret; our times together were fast, hot, and left me craving more. I had already broken so many commandments it seemed ridiculous to come this far and do nothing especially when I wanted him. I said yes and he made the plans.
It was to be on a Friday after work. He had already arranged with his wife that he would be late getting home. He made a show of having work to do and wished everyone a good weekend. As my co workers headed to happy hour, I walked a few blocks in the opposite direction to an almost empty deli, bought a bottle of water and sat in the back waiting. Twenty minutes later he came he stopped at the counter and bought a fried chicken meal before walking over to me, "ready?" he asked, I nodded and we stepped out to get car service.
He ate the chicken in the car which annoyed me, I didn't want to smell or taste fried chicken when I kissed him. He directed our driver and at one point turned to me and said it would be great if she could join us, he rubbed my thigh when he saw the look on my face, "just kidding." I was starting to have doubts, what would happen, would this change us, would he spend more time with me, can we go out, will he stay married, and does he love me? I think I love him, I know I want him. No turning back, this would finally be our time together, no rushing, no jumping at every sound; we can be comfortable and do everything.
The motel was that typical looking motel. I was surprised when he requested the 5 hour rate, I was hoping we could spend the whole night together, I had a change of clothes in my bag, and I wanted to sleep next to him and wake up curled against him. He shrugged and said he couldn't do an overnight. Everything began as usual only with more intensity; I was going to finally do it!! I pushed all reservations aside and opened myself up to him. He put my legs over his shoulders, raising my behind slightly off the bed and began to push into me with vigor. I felt a flash of pain and cried out he said to relax it will feel good soon. It didn't feel good it didn't feel like anything, after that one burp of pain I felt nothing and wondered if he were still in me. He was there working away and I felt useless. When he was done, he looked at me and said with a tinge of surprise "You really were a virgin; I've always wanted to do a virgin." I realized I was no longer a virgin, no longer in lust, and couldn't understand why being with him had seemed so all consuming, I just wanted to be in my own bed, alone. Getting dressed was awkward, he was eager to go and I wanted to go but I also wanted him to say something loving or assuring, where did that intensity go? We left the motel together, he hurried a kiss to my cheek and said, "you can take the A train home, right?" "What?" I asked, not believing I heard correctly. "I'll call you later, "he said and quickly walked away towards the corner, he turned and he was gone. I walked to the train station and caught the A home.
Carmen Sutra is the pseudonym used in the Powder Room for any woman who wants to write but keep her identity private to protect the innocent and the not-so innocent.
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