[***This is an experiential piece that has graphic language, and I am working through shame around sexuality, female ejacuation and masturbation – so please read as if it is a diary entry – and treat it as such (in case you want to comment).]
I lost my virginity last night.
As my lover pushed me against the wall, I felt my emotional body quake.
Unsure of what I wanted, there was suddenly panic.
Confusion and fear mixed in with the position of being overpowered – though he just stood there, holding me against the wall, my feet were about to crumble from underneath me.
And I slipped to the ground. I felt reluctant to run and break the contact, but froze within my body, as his hand ran across it. He knelt behind me and held my legs in place, gentle but forceful.
I wanted to crawl into a bundle and be held but simultaneously I felt his arousal and mine, though resistance was strong. I felt the denial of sexual feelings in my system which added to the freeze. My emotional body was in turmoil.
I wanted to hide but I also wanted to be witnessed in my fragility.
So I crawled onto the bed and he followed, with his erection holding presence and focus and triggering my fear of being forced. This was not where he was going though, as he lay beside my tremoring body and I confessed my inner landscape. “I feel like a little girl, in panic and confusion and I feel ashamed of my sexuality”.
He looked at me and sighed and just stayed there, slowly caressing me. My body slightly relaxed and started to open into feeling my own arousal. I started caressing myself.
“Can you tell me what you find attractive about me?” I asked him.
“Your innocence, your purity, your erotic body, your physical body, your vulnerability, your mouth and your sounds, your wildness, your surrender…” I caressed my labia and clitoris. I felt the little girl in me being approved of, in her body and being. She started to be openly aroused. He watched and admired, caressed and just held himself there.
“I feel like I’m 7 years old.” I said. He nodded approvingly. “What do you want?” he asked the little girl that was now taking centre stage in my being, playing with her own sensations. “I want you to caress me softly with your fingertips.” and he did. The little girl kept caressing her wet vulva and felt the curious urge to touch his penis. She asked for permission and he gave it.
“You can do whatever you want”. That was one of those big affirmations that little girls should hear, but once they grow older, they stop believing. This moment, she did believe him and courageously ventured on.
She shifted her position and slid in between their intertwined legs and held the organ and it grew under her fingers. She placed herself so that she could rub her genitals against his. “I like this!” she gasped in innocent excitement, as the inner labia slid across the shaft, the tip of his phallus touching her clit. He let out a grunt and she gazed at him curiously. “Do you like this? I am having fun. I want us to have fun together, can I continue?” she voiced. He said yes and gave her permission to explore how it would be to put the phallus inside. She struggled and asked him to find the entrance. He did and slipped just the tip in. He held himself still, almost without breathing. She focused on her sensations and took a breath.
They were both curious. “How does it feel?” he finally said. “It feels snug, a bit like I’ve been spliced open and there’s different sensations on my inner skin, and I like this..” she replied as she rubbed her mid-vagina against the head of the penis. Slowly, the phallus eased itself into the inner chamber, and it felt to her as if there were two rooms, the tunnel around the entrance and a room in the back, where he now resided, the tip of the penis pressing against the backwall. “That’s exciting!” she gasped.
She felt his stiffness, as if he was worried about breaking her. “I want you to relax, you’re not hurting me, maybe lie on your back and just focus on feeling things with me.” she ordered and they changed position. Everything happened slowly and in the spirit of discovery, as if every micromovement was new and they were on uncharted territory together. She was now free to explore the motions and movements and kept gazing at him curiously.
“What would you like to do?” she asked. And he started moving his hips, to show her what he liked. And then it was her turn to discover movements that she liked. They continued this mutual discovery for quite a while, at times finding a pleasurable, wild rhythm and at times slowing down to a hilt to just feel, breath, and for his phallus not to lose his built-up energy.
After a while she found a point that felt really intense. “I feel like I have to pee” she said and paused, ready to feel embarrassed. He said “It’s ok, feel into it, relax and just let it happen.” And she did. First an energetic trickle began and the energy pushed out of her vagina. Then an actual water flow started as he continued little micro movements and the inner landscape was flooding with a gushing stream. It flowed out and over his torso and into the bed. She let out high pitched sighs and couldn’t hold any emotion back. The lower part of her body let go and released completely, with sound, with water, with breath, until serene stillness surrounded them.
They held each other a moment and continued to explore a few more. “What else would you like to do?” she asked him, feeling his pulsations continue within her. “Well, did you know you can also put this in your mouth and it feels really nice for me?” he said. “Oh!” she said. “Let’s try that!”. And they changed positions and he lay down beside the pool of moist on the bed.
She looked at the penis “It looks bigger from this angle!” and she caressed it with her fingers, softly, and then placed her lips around it. Softly, her mouth slid up and down and around. He moaned loudly. Everything was still done in a slow pace, in softness and discovery. “Wow, you are really good at this” he said. And she felt acknowledged and enthusiastic about carrying the task on, but carefully, making sure he had time to feel, to sense, to discover his own pleasure. His moans were exciting to her.
They enjoyed the reciprocity a bit more and then paused, curled up and shared about the discovery. The girl felt like this was the first time she had sex! How special and how delicate and how fun! Finally someone had held her in it, and shared the innocence of discovery.
I felt her in my 30-year old body. How she rejoiced this experience and I did too. I have not had many recollections of my first sexual experiences which happened drunk without any acknowledgement of how special this rite of passage is. Now I felt the re-introduction of sexuality that was complete innocence, done with pure joy and curiosity.
The experienced transformed the frozen shame back into curiosity and ecstasy.
“Why 7?” he asked. “I think that’s when I became aware of masturbation, my genitals, and also started getting UTI’s”. The shame around sexuality had started early for me, as the result was painful peeing in a jar faced with a fretting mother who got me on antibiotics time after time.
“And your parents breakup was around then?” he asked. “Yes, I was between 6 and 7.”
He pointed out how the loss of a father figure might’ve encouraged the seeking of bodily pleasure as a distraction from the pain of separation. I never thought of it that way.
I just thought I was an early bloomer. Ever since I can remember I was rubbing my genitals against teddy bears, big rocks, bicycle saddles, tree trunks… “Because I had no one to play with” the little girl added sadly. I felt the gratitude towards this man for playing with me. I am yet to fully know how great this reprogramming of ‘what pleasure is for?’ will be.
In the meanwhile, I encourage you to discover your own bodies, along with loved ones, again and again as if for the first time!