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Virginity Lost

Note : This story is completely fictional!

It was a hot summer morning, another one in a string of very hot days. The school was out and I should have been having the time of my life. However, as the faith would have it, Jackie was yet again grounded for being stupid and breaking her curfew, Hanna and Katie were on holidays with their parents and I was left here all alone. Alone and bored out of my wits. 

No doubt Hanna and Katie were to return in a week with incredible stories of wild flirting and necking with exotic, wild and handsome foreigners. In the worst-case scenario, the boys would embody all of the above. Hanna had had sex before with her boyfriend Keith, which seemed to have opened the door to a flood of sexual exploration to which every teenager is prone by nature. However, I always had a feeling that most of what she told us was going on between her and the boys in school were lies. Shy and always proper Hanna was hard to imagine as this wild love goddess, as she liked to portray herself. 

Katie was seriously considering giving her virginity to her now boyfriend Simon, but wasn’t too sure if she was ready yet. She hadn’t been sure for over a year, and unbeknownst to her or any of the other girls in our little group, Simon had cornered me in the bathroom at Katie’s birthday party a few weeks ago, kissing me and thrusting his tongue down my throat, grabbing my breasts and squeezing them as if he tried to milk the life out of me. It felt good, and of course it was very naughty, but that is as far as it went. 

Days following this little escapade, I was mortified that Katie and Simon would have a fight, no doubt regarding her unwillingness to “go all the way”, and Simon would have blurted out what had happened between us. But so far, so good. Katie never said anything, which I could not imagine she would have done if she even suspected something had happened between her boyfriend and me. Simon on the other hand, always seemed to be too busy to even acknowledge me any longer when I was around. That was fine with me. I did think Simon was kind of cute, but Katie was one of my best friends and I didn’t want to lose her over something this trivial and stupid. 

Jackie on the other hand was a completely different story. I loved her as a sister, but even I had to admit that she was nothing more than a tart. I have seen her with my own eyes, leaning against the wall in the alley behind our house, Craig’s hand thrust up her skirt, moving back and forth wildly, all the while kissing her as if she was the only source of oxygen on earth. According to her, he was only one of approximately twenty boys that she had slept with since losing her virginity a year ago. She claimed she had lost the count already. She was one of those girls, who were headed for early motherhood, washed out by the age of thirty, ending up with some loser because everybody else had had her in the bushes and didn’t want her in their home. 

And that left me. Good old Sam, a virgin with no prospects of being rid of this most annoying stigma in sight. I had no boyfriend and wasn’t about to open myself to just anybody’s prying hands. And cocks, of course. 

So, here I was, sprawled on the lawn chair, sponging up the sun, working on my already perfect tan, feeling dizzy from the heat and too lazy to get up and get a drink, even though I was thirsty enough to drink straight out of the little pond at the bottom of the garden. My little sister was blessedly on holiday with my Dad’s new family somewhere in Wales, and my mom worked mornings and evenings at the local pub. She would only come home in the afternoon to take a bath, a nap and if her toy-boy was around a quickie. And of course, to ignore me. 

I had to admit that for 40-year-old woman, my mum looked pretty good. She kept her figure and spent most of the money that she earned on clothes. She had a string of boyfriends since she divorced dad three years ago, most of them younger then her, which always embarrassed me in front of people. I could always see our neighbors nudging each other as she was walking out of the house proudly, on the hand of someone who could almost be her own son. My mum was just as bad as Jackie. 

This virginity business weighed heavily on my mind. The summer heat seemed to turn me on even more. Sometimes, I found myself sitting on the stairs that led to my mother’s bedroom on the second floor, listening to sounds of lovemaking, her screams and cries, her boyfriends’ grunts and dirty talking. Often, in bed at night, I would be reminiscing of what I had heard earlier in the day and my hand would slip down my knickers, rubbing wildly against the bud of my sexuality, but very disappointedly, I never seemed to have reached the ecstasy that Jackie was talking about. 

In my ripe, 19-year-old mind I had already given up hope on ever reaching this level of pleasure. Most of my friends have been way ahead of me here. I would stay a virgin forever. Everybody will know this and I will be a laughing stock of the school. My mother’s active sexual life most certainly did not help my frustration. 

I heard the front door slam and I sighed deeply. It was too early for my mum to be back, which meant that her current boyfriend Neil must have stopped by during lunch hour. He was younger than my mum, in his late 20’s, always creeping around the house at most unexpected times. He was a construction worker and his body was nice and strong, I had to admit that much. Otherwise, he was just an ordinary guy, with greasy black hair and dark, almost devilish eyes, giving me chills every time he looked at me. Of late, I noticed that he hung around me more and more, brushing against me when I stood in the kitchen making tea, or reaching over me to get something out of a cupboard. My mum never seemed to notice, though. She was oblivious to the world most of the time anyway, a consequence of constant drinking, I suppose. 

Knowing that Neil was in the house and will probably see me lying in the garden, I was torn between packing up and going to my room or staying out here. I decided I would stay where I was. I reached under the lawn chair and pulled out a bottle of sun oil, beginning to apply some more on my already glistening skin. Then, I closed my eyes and hoped that he would leave at any given moment. 

After a few minutes, the kitchen window, which was facing the garden opened up and through my half-closed eyes I saw Neil’s head popping out. “Oy!” he shouted and the annoyance that had been simmering inside me since I heard him enter the house shot up to the boiling point. He could be such a lummox. I ignored him, pretending to nap. 

“Oy, Sam!” he wouldn’t be swayed and I finally opened my eyes.

“What?” I asked rudely, hoping he wasn’t coming out into the garden. 

“I made some lemonade, you must be hot.” He said and despite my wish that he would just leave, the thought of a cool drink was very inviting. As if sensing my indecision, he dangled a tall glass of yellowy liquid out the window and I could hear the clinging noise made by ice cubes floating on top. 

“You want some?” he asked, looking at me intently. 

I was very aware of the skimpy little bikini that I was wearing. I never thought much of myself, but I was told before that I had inherited my mum’s nice body. I didn’t want him to look at me half naked anymore. 

“Yeah, alright,” I said. “I’ll be right up.”

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I stood up and bent down to pick up the huge gauze scarf that I used as a long skirt sometimes, and sometimes as a mini dress wrapped around my body. The thought of Neil looking at my bum while I was bending made me straighten up on a double. I wrapped the scarf around me, tying it in a knot just above my boobs. I turned around and looked up into the kitchen window and could see Neil still staring at me. 

I entered the back door and was temporarily blinded by the darkness of the house. The strength of the heat made me slightly woozy and I climbed the stairs to the first floor holding onto the wall with one hand and clutching the railing with the other. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, the wooziness went away and I was grateful for the coolness of the house. 

Neil was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching the news on TV. When he heard me, he turned around and patted the empty seat on the couch next to him. The glass of lemonade was sweating on the coffee table by the couch. 

I will never know what made me sit next to him, but I plopped down on the couch, letting my weight pull me down, letting out a deep sigh. I was very tired, the heat had exhausted me. Very prissily, I pulled the scarf over my legs, as if just remembering that I was half naked. 

Neil looked at my hands as I did this and smiled. He looked at me and for the first time I saw that his dark eyes were quite pretty. Not devilish at all. I smiled back and turned my attention to the TV.

After a few seconds, when he didn’t look away from me, I giggled: “What are you staring at?” I asked, very aware of the dangerous waters that I was entering. 

“You’re very pretty, you know?” he said. 

“You’re disgusting!” I responded and the giggling sensation was gone. I didn’t feel amused anymore. I felt something else. Oddly appealing, but also uncomfortable, I felt a stirring inside my stomach, reaching further down between my legs. I was getting turned on!

“No, I’m not!” he didn’t protest really. It was just a statement. “You don’t think I’m disgusting, you’re just jealous.”

“OF WHAT?” Now, I was really bewildered. “Jealous of YOU?”

He nodded. “I know that you sit on the stairs sometimes, listening to your mum and me.”

He caught me completely off guard. I blushed and my eyes must have been the size of teacup saucers. 

“I do not!” my voice was unnaturally high-pitched. 

“Yes, you do.” He said and his hand brushed his thigh as if flicking off invisible crumbs. “I heard you. More than once.” 

This was the biggest embarrassment of my entire life. At this point, I understood the saying of hoping to be swallowed by the earth. 

His hand left his thigh and reached over to me. Ever so gently, he pinched the corner of my scarf and let it fall off my leg, clearly exposing my oiled, tanned thigh and a part of my tiny red bikini

I should have jumped up. I should have hit him and screamed. But, I didn’t. I giggled instead and kept my eyes on his hand that was now smearing the suntan oil deeper into my skin. I couldn’t bear to look at his face. “What are you doing?” I asked and this time my voice came out hoarse. 

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” he asked, squeezing my thigh lightly. 

I shook my head no, but still didn’t move. 

His hand traveled all the way to my knees, circled around it and came back up the thigh, touching my bikini. “Are you sure?” he asked and I shook my head again. 

He bent over and lightly kissed me on the lips At the same time his finger slipped under the elastic of my bikini and expertly found its way between my legs. It landed on my little bud, which was so familiar to my fingers. The feel of someone else’s fingers on it was quite different, however. I gasped, my mind racing between the sensation of his tongue rubbing against mine and his finger rubbing my clitty. 



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