A Virgin with Fantasies of Sex

by Onania MasturBOT | inspired by masturbators like you

I was a lifelong porn addict—one of those cut-and-dried, textbook cases you could use for a PSA, except I was always the one laughing hardest at those. In fact, I don’t remember a time before masturbation, probably because I started so early on the dial-up computer in my parents’ house, hunched over a keyboard, training my mind and cock to respond to nothing but pixels and pixels and pixels again. By the time I hit my twenties, I could scroll through porn like an analyst and come over the weirdest, most specific things—all while my real-life dick wilted at the sight of a naked human woman.

By twenty-six, I had racked up enough pseudo-experience to power an entire dorm of horny undergrads, only without the actual, you know, sex part. My balls would ache after a marathon jerk-off, but the idea of putting it in another person’s body, of actually doing the P-in-V after all those years, made my brain seize up like a car engine running on Mountain Dew and regret. Not to say I lived like a monk: there were girlfriends, flings, a few random one-night stands that fizzled out before either of us got out of our pants. I was funny, not ugly, and I knew how to talk to women—several of them told me I had a ‘boyish charm’ that made them want to corrupt me, knock the innocence out of me, turn me from a theoretical virgin into a real, practical one. It never quite worked.

My longest relationship lasted about a year and a half, and even then, my girlfriend at the time—let’s call her Casey—never got to actually fuck me. She wanted to, oh god, did she ever. At first, she laughed about it, said it was ‘refreshing’ to date a guy who wasn’t always trying to paw at her. She was a few years older than me and definitely more experienced, and I think she had a little bit of a thing for the idea of being my first. But after a month or two, when I’d go down on her and make her come and then jerk off into the toilet after she left, it started to wear thin. When we did try, it was a comedy of errors. Condom on, dick off. One time, she even tried to put it in herself, grabbing my soft cock and mashing it gently, almost tenderly, against her wet opening while I just apologized over and over again like some weirdly polite robot.

Eventually, she broke up with me, and even though I pretended it was fine, it haunted me for months. I retreated into porn even harder. I started reading forums about porn-induced erectile dysfunction, and the more I read, the more I realized I was probably the poster child for the phenomenon. My whole sexual education was online, and all my fantasies were shaped by things that didn’t even happen in real life. If I ever did have sex, I worried I wouldn’t know what to do, or that my body would betray me in every possible way. I started to wonder if there were other virgins out there like me—slightly older, kind of funny, desperate for connection but trapped inside a feedback loop of shame and lust.

For a while, that shame was a constant background noise. Whenever I matched with someone on Tinder or Bumble, I’d get to the inevitable ‘what are you looking for?’ question and freeze up, thinking, I don’t even know. The fantasy of sex was so overwhelming and perfect in my head that I feared anything real would be a letdown, or worse, a total failure that would haunt me into my forties. Sometimes, I’d chat with girls for weeks, get really emotionally vulnerable, then sabotage the whole thing as soon as they wanted to actually meet. I told myself I was just picky, holding out for something ‘special,’ but really I was just terrified.

This didn’t mean I stopped fantasizing. If anything, my imagination became this lush, overgrown jungle of sexual scenarios—some dark and primal, some hilarious or bizarre, some so gentle and intimate I could cry just thinking about them. I found myself obsessed with the idea of body worship, of giving pleasure, of making someone lose control. Oral sex, especially, became this holy grail; I’d spend hours reading guides or watching videos, taking notes in my head, promising myself that if I ever got the chance, I’d be the best at it. I’d make her come so many times she’d forget my dick never worked right. The thought of that was almost better than actual intercourse—at least porn had taught me something useful, right?

After a while, I got a little more comfortable talking about it. Not to my parents, obviously, but to friends, sometimes even to women I dated. I’d say things like, “Isn’t it weird that nobody actually teaches you how to do sex? Like, you just have to figure it out, and most people are too embarrassed to even talk about it?” Sometimes they’d agree, sometimes they’d roll their eyes. A few times, women told me about their own awkward first times, or how it took years for them to actually enjoy sex. That helped a little.

But I still had this core of longing, this desperate ache for someone to see me, want me, and not care that I was a total amateur. I dreamed about finding a girl who was just as curious and goofy as I was, someone who’d be into exploring every weird thing together and who’d laugh if we failed, then want to try again anyway. I didn’t care if we came at the same time, or if neither of us did; I wanted to roll around in the sheets and kiss until we were both sweaty and out of breath, then make fun of each other while we lay there naked and happy. I wanted intimacy, not just the sexual kind but the dumb, giggly, inside-joke kind.

Sometimes, I’d read stories about people losing their virginity in their late twenties or thirties, and I’d get this sick thrill in my stomach, like maybe that would be me. Maybe the buildup was just making it better. Maybe, when it finally happened, it would be so mind-blowingly intense that all the years of shame and awkwardness would melt away in one sweaty, sticky session.

I’ve had girlfriends in the past, but I’m waiting for someone really special to give my first time to. I want it to be with someone who I can laugh and explore with and who I know I’ll have a great time just goofing around naked with even if neither of us are able to cum the first time or two, and I know it will just be wonderful to connect my body with someone like that. In the meantime though, there’s so much that I’m so curious about! I wish I could find a girl to hang out with and just talk about sex and vaginas and orgasms. It would be so nice to just relax and be horny with someone even without having sex.

 

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