LIKE A VIRGIN
A devirginized 20-something is touched for the very last time
I was a 23-year-old virgin laying lifeless on my back about to be deflowered. In true poetic fashion, the taker of my chastity was a guy who didn’t think I was good enough to be his girlfriend. There were no slow jams or sex by candlelight, just silence on a shaky futon in an unlit apartment. As he thrust in and out of me for about 10 minutes, I remember thinking, so this is it? When it was over I didn’t want to talk or cuddle, I just wanted to go to sleep, and hopefully forget the worst sex I never had in my life.
It didn’t get much better after that. A few weeks later, I decided to be proactive. “Harder! Harder!” I moaned in a disguised attempt to give instruction. “Chill!” he responded. Immediately afterwards, he forcefully pumped, causing the futon to bang against the adjacent wall, as if to mockingly say, “is that hard enough for you?” Three pumps later he abruptly stopped, put on his pants, and turned on the TV, while I lay there naked and dumbfounded. “What the fuck are you doing?” I asked. He smirked and continued staring at the TV.
“Were we not just having sex?” I asked again. “Why did you stop like that?”
That’s when he said, “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore. You’re no good.”
“What?!” I fired back. “I was a virgin before you. What’s your excuse?”
“Please!” he patronized. “I have references!”
“Fuck you and your references,” I said. I couldn’t believe the audacity of this delusional asshole.
“I couldn’t keep my dick hard. That’s why I stopped,” he confessed. “I’m just not feeling you.”
That day we agreed never to have sex with each other again. And even though my devirginized self knew that it was really him who failed to deliver, his words cut deeper than his dick ever could.
