Young Virgin Sex Stories

Young Virgin Sex Stories




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Young Virgin Sex Stories
My parents helped me to lose my virginity
Boris Fishman … ‘I wanted it to resemble the epic lovelorn couplings in Marquez’s books.’ Photograph: PR
Original reporting and incisive analysis, direct from the Guardian every morning
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When he was 16, Boris Fishman and his girlfriend felt ready to have sex but he wanted the setting to be right and there was nowhere to go. Then he had an idea ...
W e were each other’s firsts. I was 16, a stressed-out immigrant kid, she was the daughter of Colombian Catholics who were quite fond of the church’s policy on pre-marital sex. So it took us quite a while to awkwardly, semi-defeatedly concede to each other that we had run out of excuses to avoid sex. “This weekend?” I said grimly.
On Saturday morning, when the springtime sun finally made a strong showing outside after a dreary, wet winter, I came downstairs, where my parents and maternal grandmother were gathered around breakfast, and asked, as casually as I could: “Are you guys doing anything tonight?”
My father, not one for socialising or reading between the lines, wrinkled his forehead and said: “No?”
But my mother, who reads between the lines, needed only one look at me to say: “Of course!” She didn’t know why she was being asked, but she knew she was being asked.
“Why not go out for dinner?” I said, feeling guilty. “My treat.” Since arriving from the Soviet Union a decade before in 1988, none of our immigrant habits had eased; we almost never ate out – too expensive.
But I had been hoarding dollars from my summer jobs landscaping and lifeguarding. My offer must have indicated to my mother how badly I wished for the thing I was asking.
“But we’re not going anywhere tonight,” my father repeated, confused. My mother smacked his arm with the back of her hand: “Yes, we are.”
My grandmother only lolled her head, smiling. Whatever the adventure, she was in, as long as it included the family. (She had lost most of hers in the Holocaust.)
With curiosity, scepticism and goodwill, my parents and grandmother piled into the cramped, rusty Buick that was our first car in America and fumed off to whatever discount place they were going to for dinner. Newly permitted to drive, I jumped into our other car and sped off to a linen shop, in one of the nondescript shopping malls that surrounded our town like a blockading army.
I had been reading quite a bit of Gabriel García Márquez – my girlfriend’s compatriot – and I wanted her first time to resemble the epic, lovelorn couplings in his books. I wasn’t sure how things would hold up at my end, so at least everything else could be perfect.
After buying sheets (surely, I was the only unaccompanied 16-year-old male in the store), I stopped at the florist’s and asked for two dozen roses, rapidly depleting the funds I had set aside for my family’s dinner. I was so anxious that I gashed a finger trying to open the cellophane packaging in which the sheets were packed. I laid them down and wondered how tacky it was for the folding creases to show. Márquez had said nothing about folding creases. I tore the sheets back off the bed, yanked my mother’s ironing board from the hallway closet and got to work, the clock marching forward without mercy. My girlfriend was almost due and my family surely soon after that.
I gashed another finger plucking the petals off the thorn-riddled roses. (You thought I was going to give my girlfriend the flowers? No, like a maestro unveiling his circus, I would peel back the bedspread to reveal … fresh sheets covered in rose petals!)
Trying desperately not to bleed all over the enterprise, I stretched the ironed sheets over the mattress, scattered 300 rose petals on top and covered it all with the bedspread.
The main event was nothing like my literary hero had promised: primarily, we were relieved it was over. Now we could savour the falsely sweet memory of a milestone achieved. We turned on the television, called the diner and ordered a takeaway.
However, there was no sign of the adults. It was dark by now; I couldn’t imagine them choosing a restaurant that took serious time with its meals. There was no such place in our town, in any case.
They weren’t back when I drove my girlfriend home and they weren’t back by the time I returned. Eleven turned to midnight to 1am, and I turned from amusement to worry to terror at having consigned my family to catastrophe all because I wanted to lose my virginity.
I paced the living room and waited.
Though I would be unable to explain the feeling until many years later, the unease in my chest that evening had less to do with the awkwardness of a first coupling than the knowledge that it had been an obligation performed by two young people who felt a tremendous amount of affection for each other and desperately wished that could be enough.
I wrote my first poems for Gloria and she listened patiently to my complaints about the pressures of all that was expected from me at home. She came to my tennis matches and I wrote her term papers. But there were too many silent moments between us and the fact that our parents did not see us together – a Catholic and a Jew – only deepened the gloom. Our parents’ opinions mattered to us with all the weight they suspected was lacking.
Gloria and I would never regret that we had given ourselves to each other, but among the many other lessons with which adulthood awaited us was the news that for a life together it was not enough to love someone; you had to like them, too.
She was one year older than me and when she went off to college we unravelled. All the same, when I went to college, my mother demanded to know whether I had chosen it because it was only half an hour from where Gloria was studying.
“It’s Princeton, Ma,” I said. “Who cares why I chose it?” (I had selected Princeton because it offered the most financial assistance and because my parents would be footing the bill). But having spent their formative years in a country that lied to and abused its citizens, especially if they were Jewish, my parents were always alert to a con, even from their own flesh and blood.
As for Gloria, we reconnected several years ago after more than a decade. We have dinner every few months, each meeting as if no time has passed. The intense feelings that we experienced in those impressionable years have left us with a seemingly ineradicable tenderness available only to people like us. Sometimes I wonder: would we have stood a chance if we had ignored our parents about our relationship, too? There is no way to know.
So, this is adulthood: being old enough to have questions that will never be answered. Now, the parents listen only sometimes. Gloria and I laugh and commiserate about it when we meet at dinner. In those moments, our friendship feels like a secret and a gift.
But back to that spring night in 1996. When I heard the garage-door rumble open at 2am, I leapt off the couch where I was napping fitfully and burst through the connecting door in the front hallway.
“Where were you?!” I demanded like a parent sighting children who had violated their curfew. “It’s 2am!”
“We wanted to give you your time,” my mother said, taken aback.
Recent immigrants don’t eat out, not if someone in the family is paying (my pocket was as good as their own, as far as they were concerned). They had spent seven hours parked in the lot outside Shop Rite down Hamburg Turnpike, next to the diner from which my girlfriend and I had ordered food. They had made sandwiches. They snacked on turkey slices with mayo and cucumber and talked about all the things they wished their only son to achieve. Seven hours they had talked and they could have gone on until dawn.
A Replacement Life by Boris Fishman is published by One, £12.99.To order a copy for £10.39, including free UK p&p, go to theguardian.com/bookshop or call 0330 333 6846

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Losing virginity is a huge issue, especially in a country like ours. After your first sexual intercourse, you may have plenty of concerns about your body. Other than the hymen, which does not end up ‘breaking’ in most cases, there are many other changes that a woman’s body goes through post their first sexual experience. Here are some of them:

VAGINAL CHANGES: The elasticity of your vagina changes after you start having sex. Since the vagina is still getting used to this new activity you have introduced to your body, it takes some time for the vagina to become used to penetration. However, this gets better with time. Even how your vagina lubricates itself will change over a period of time.
CLITORIS AND UTERUS KNOW WHEN TO CONTRACT AND EXPAND: When in an arousal position, your clitoris will swell up and the uterus will rise a bit. After some time, your body will become used to sex and every time you arouse, your otherwise inactive clitoris and uterus will go through these transformations and return to normal post the act.
BREASTS BECOME FIRMER: During and after sex, the tissues in your breast swell up and the blood vessels dilate leading to firmer breasts. But, this goes back to normal post sex and is only a temporal state.
Vasocongestion is actually is the swelling of bodily tissues which is caused by increased vascular blood flow which leads to breast, nipples, labia and clitoris becoming enlarged. During this sexual arousal, well-oxygenated blood is supplied to your genitals and breasts. As a result, the outer lips, inner lips and clitoris may begin to swell and your heart rate and blood pressure may also increase momentarily.
Yes, you read that right. This is actually one of the hidden yet truly amazing benefits of losing your virginity. When you have sex for the very first time, it may have a direct impact on the glow on your face-- especially if the act finished with an orgasm. The logic is simple, when you have sex, it improves your blood circulation, which helps in pumping oxygen to your skin, giving it that heavenly, youthful glow. Also, when you have sex, your brain releases happy hormones like Serotonin and Oxycontin, which help in cutting down the stress levels and make you feel relaxed. The result? You get clearer-looking skin with a lit-from-within glow.
NIPPLES BECOME MORE SENSITIVE IN GENERAL: Once you start indulging in sex, your body goes through a variety of new experiences. The blood circulation around your nipples increases and the muscular tension increases making them tender than usual.
HAPPY HORMONES: Happy hormones are the reason for that glowing skin. As a result, the feel-good hormone of your body, serotonin, gets secreted. Other than this, when you orgasm, it releases another hormone known as oxytocin, which makes you feel happy and relaxed.
DELAY IN PERIODS: Since your hormones get active, there are chances your period may get delayed. Fret not, this is not a pregnancy alarm but rather your body's way of telling you that its going through changes.

EMOTIONAL ISSUES: Post losing your virginity, you may have emotional outbursts, both happy and sad. This is due to the hormonal changes and can make you feel extremes of either of the emotions.
Remember, everyone's first time is a different experience, but it is important to use protection to prevent pregnancy and STDs. When you have sex for the first time, it may hurt or feel uncomfortable, due to the lack of lubrication, owing to the friction. If sex continues to be painful for you, you can either try different angles or positions to reduce the discomfort and ask your partner to go slow when it comes to penetration. Always seek an expert advice if sex continues to remain painful.
Losing one's virginity holds great significance for some. But it is important that you do not lose your rationality in that excitement. Make sure you practice safe sex by using a condom, dental dams, and/or latex or nitrile gloves.
Sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) may lead to poor quality of life, making you more prone to reproductive problems in the future.
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