Lesson 04: Serially lost — ah shit, where’d I put it? My virginity

Lesson 04 of learning blogging asks me to write about loss, good or bad. I’ve lost someone or something forever, how does it feel?


And so, quite obviously:

Ah shit, where’d I put it? My virginity

It was a surprise. Oh sure it was nice, once I understood that that’s what you’re supposed to do. 2 bare bodies bumbling about — didn’t you find it absurd at first? Quite ludicrous.

I was around 16 when I lost my virginity the first time around. The ordeal involved something I named ‘twat twine’ and this walnut thing I found and didn’t like, and the whole experience left me quite unnerved. I mean, I can appreciate but — um — no, no, not for me.

Fast forward 4 years  — from the back-end of Wales to the armpit of England — and I’d gotten over the disappointment of coming out for the 2nd time (I do these things in 2s you see). I’d wanted a scene but my friends ruined it by already knowing. Bastards. They just shrugged — what sort of scene is that?! Piss-take. True, I would’ve hated the scene but at least I would’ve had one.

Anyway, so I’d met this guy and I think his name was James — Jim? Jim. We’ll go with Jim — he was a good 15 years my senior. Nice man. Bit of a weak character and I eat weak characters between meals.

It was my birthday, one thing led to another, and I got jiggy with his mate.

I don’t think I even knew his name then so today I’m not even going to bother (I’m not good with names; faces and other places, maybe). Once done, it was alright — I didn’t write home about it and he wasn’t exactly gentle, but then gentility in this area isn’t a given. He was very polite, though, and I didn’t mind.

Surprised but didn’t mind.

The walk home the following morning was also an experience.

So there you have it. I lost it twice — twat twine and a one-night stand. Would I go through it again? No. Do I appreciate it done? Yes. Not only is twat twine a good story to tell, which I do at every available opportunity, I think loosing your virginity changes you.

It’s an innocence that’s lost and these eyes opened. And these first times are rarely classy, often clumsy — coital calamities, the lot of them — and that’s important too.

In time, some of my best hours have been filled by someone in my bed, under a bridge, on the kitchen table…

Happy shagging, folks!

Remember: Lube and a big smile.

Tomos James