Ramblings of a 20 Year Old Virgin

Hello, reader. Firstly, I would like to thank you for clicking on my story. At this point I can't assure you that you won't be disappointed; in fact it might be most honest to warn you of impending disappointment. There is not any actual sex in this story, and why you would come to literotica.com to read a story without sex is simply beyond me. But if you're still with me, we shall see.

My name is Jen, and these are all my worries about sex.

I am a 20 year old virgin. I have never given or received oral sex, never been fingered, never given a handjob, never even been kissed. People are shocked to hear that any girl has reached her 20th year without getting laid. Instead of being ashamed, I find the amazement rather entertaining. You see, I am a virgin by choice. Those who know me well often cut me down for stating that it's by choice, because I've never had a boyfriend. I see their point, but it doesn't entirely void my explanation. If I went out onto a street and asked the first guy I saw if he'd like to have sex with me, I'm confident he would say yes. I've gotten my share of proposals from random perverts. This is not the problem.

Now I'm usually modest, but if I write this with modesty you'll have no way of knowing that it's not entirely accurate, so I'll be frank. I am a decently attractive girl. Not a beauty queen by any means, I don't quite turn heads, but if I look around I'm usually glad I have my body instead of the others I see. I've got nice teeth, a small nose, hazel eyes, and eyebrows nicely shaped by nature. My hair is very light brown, some call it dirty blonde, straight as a ruler and it hangs just past my breasts. I'm not trying to spice up the story by mentioning breasts; there's just no other landmark in the general area. But while we're on the subject, those are not very impressive either; I barely deserve to be a B cup. I could have lied to you and said I'm DD but on this site, it's unusual NOT to be DD, so I'll tell you the truth. I've been told they look larger than B because I'm slim and it throws the proportions off. 5 feet 7 inches and 115 pounds, you decide. I don't keep my weight down on purpose, it must be my metabolism. Whatever it is, a lot of my female friends are jealous, and that's fine by me.

But back to the boyfriend thing. I've been asked out a few times but I politely decline. I just don't like anybody I know, and I won't have a boyfriend just for the sake of having a boyfriend. It defeats the entire purpose. I want the right guy, I want to love him and I want to marry him. I already love him, if you can understand that. The main problem is that I haven't met him yet. But, he's going to be terrific. Maybe I'll show him this little time capsule someday.

You'll be suspicious of this situation once I tell you that, for a brief period, I thought I might have been a lesbian. Partly to blame is this site, if you ask me. I found it a couple of years ago and I'd read a story or two almost every night before bed. I masturbate a lot, I should tell you. Girls aren't supposed to admit it, but here I am. Anyway, I stuck mostly to erotic couplings, you know: guy meets girl, they get naked and fuck, not rocket science. I'd sit in my computer chair and rub my clit while I read, I'd make the most of my orgasm, clear my browser history, and go to bed.

And then I read one story about two female friends who discover feelings for each other. There are about a thousand stories here with this plot, but something about this one struck a nerve. I don't even remember what it was called now, and it started this whole odd chapter of my life. I got into the lesbian section a lot, and it was exciting to me. Then I got to thinking – I read all these lesbian stories, I've never had a boyfriend, I've never really even had a really serious crush on a guy – maybe I need to put 2 and 2 together. So for a couple of months in high school I considered myself to be secretly lesbian. I never told anybody, and I'm thankful I didn't, because I've long since abandoned that theory. I'm sure of myself now, and the real deal is that the lesbian element turns me on, but I absolutely would not want to really have sex with a woman. If I imagine myself having sex with a woman, it makes me frown a little, and that's it.

This was pretty hard to determine, because I'm bad at imagining myself having sex with guys, too. I recently realized that of all my fantasies, of all the things that play through my head while I'm masturbating, none of them involve me personally. Is that strange? If I imagine myself starring in my mental porn, it's an immediate turnoff, because I feel silly. Maybe it's just because I've never done it for real.

Because of this, I'm concerned that I'm going to be bad at sex. I intend to wait until I'm married, and I'm pretty sure I can do it, but we'll see how it goes. First of all, I'm going to be horrible on my wedding night. Don't get me wrong, I'm really looking forward to sex. It's just that I want my first time to be so sweet and perfect, that I'm scared as hell I'm going to screw it up. I'll cry, I'll probably even wimp out and leave the poor guy hanging. I want to be good at sex. I want a lot of sex and no kids. I want to be the kind of wife that will give her husband a blowjob, completely out of the blue. He'll come home from work, plop down in a chair, and I'll blow him. I'm expecting to like BJs now, I don't actually know that they're like. I'm worried about being bad at that too, because I have a super strong gag reflex. Maybe you can train yourself out of that. I don't know.

Getting oral sex makes me worry too. I'm the type of girl that gets nervous when you look at her for more than a brief moment. In gym class, I changed into my uniform in a toilet stall instead of out in the open with the other girls, even though nobody was looking anyway. I would probably die of embarrassment if I had to stand naked with a guy I knew looking at me. I actually have kind of a nice body, but something about that would just kill me. So having a guy stick his face up between my legs is possibly one of the most unsettling situations I can imagine. Even if I got comfortable with that, what if I can't come? What if it's been like 40 minutes, he's still licking around, pulling out every trick he has in his magic bag, and nothing happens? He'd feel bad, and I'd be embarrassed. And I can't fake an orgasm, either. I'm worried about that for 2 reasons.

Firstly, I don't think I'm going to be able to make a lot of noise during sex. Now I've had an orgasm almost every night since I can remember. I started young. I don't drink or smoke, this is my addiction of choice. But all of these orgasms were had at night in the house of a family of five, meaning I've trained myself to be dead silent the whole time. Even when I'm home alone, I still don't make any noise, because that's the way it is now. When I finally have sex, and I'm supposed to moan and everything, I don't know if I'll be able to. I have to have the moans, because moaning is a turn-on, at least for me. I really hope that it'll be so much better than I expected, that I won't be able to stop myself from moaning. That's what I'm counting on, because if I'm totally quiet, it'll be so awkward. I'll have to put some music on or something.

The other thing is, I don't even know if I'll be able to climax during sex. I hardly ever finger myself. It feels good, but it doesn't build up to anything, so then I'm left feeling silly with sticky fingers. So when I want to get off, I just rub my clit. That's convenient, I guess, because I don't even have to undress. I keep reading that some huge percent of women can't actually climax from penetration. Knowing I'm not just broken makes me feel better, but it's not really going to help when I'm married. What are you supposed to do? If I was a guy and I couldn't get my wife to climax while having sex, I'd feel pretty bad, even if it wasn't my fault. My hope for this category is that a real cock is way better than whatever I'm doing with my fingers.

But losing my virginity, that's going to suck. I'm afraid, even though I don't know how afraid I should be. It apparently hurts a lot when your hymen breaks, understandably. Makes me shudder to think of it. To be honest, the whole hymen thing mystifies me. I don't know if I have one. If you finger yourself, are you supposed to feel the hymen? Because I don't feel anything in there, and I don't remember ever breaking what might have been it. Maybe it's more of a girth thing than a depth thing. Either way, that's going to be a bitch. I'll probably stop the whole process right there. It'll be like when I was little, and my dad was going to pull the string tied around my loose tooth on the count of 3. He'd keep getting to 2 and I'd keep crying wait, stop, stop! My poor husband, whoever he's going to be, has got to be a really patient guy. It'll pay off though, when I get the hang of things.

But even though I'm scared for 100 reasons, it's fun to have such a big deal to look forward to. Even if it turns out to be a let down, the anticipation is giving me a good time. It's funny, I've written a handful of stories on this site, and it looks like I'm a convincing liar, or so the little red H icons say. I've got some nerve, writing about things that I know nothing about. When the day finally comes, I wonder if I'll have learned anything from all this literature. Probably I'll just lay there like a moron.

So, now you know all the worries and insecurities of some girl that you never met. There isn't really a poignant way to end this, so I'll just wish you a good time with the next story you click on. Thanks for reading.