The sexual disillusionment of a virgin who waited pragmatically to be deflowered!
By Stanley Collymore
Did he have any idea whatsoever, I ended up asking
myself, as to what he was doing? For I must say
I was wholly confused by it all throughout our
fleeting and dispiriting sexual affair. And
as far as his patently ham-fisted shenanigans
were concerned I was also evidently perplexed by
them! He who brashly but now it would appear
artlessly made himself out to be the assured
and vastly experienced lover, yet in reality
not having a solitary idea of what was
sexually expected of him, much less
so what to actually do in a wholly
collaborative situation like that
one, that for the love of God
we had rather deliberately,
in anticipation, and most
embarrassingly as well,
at any rate for me, did
result in placing me
securely in the very
awkward state of
affairs that quite
appallingly I’d
imprudently
put myself
firmly in.
18 years old I was and I’d wilfully lingered this long prior
to my freely and expectantly, in the given and entirely
controlled circumstances I’d consciously created
for me, decide to surrender myself to any man,
since I wanted when eventually I had chosen
through sexual intercourse to dispose of
my purposely guarded chastity that it
would absolutely be with someone
who, very unlike me, was vastly experienced sexually;
extraordinarily accomplished in the art of seduction
and pleasurable lovemaking and, of course, knew
precisely what he was undertaking in my case:
literally and figuratively blooding an utterly
receptive and healthy young woman that
in pragmatic and carnal terms moreover
though an exceptionally willing and
bona fide virgin was nevertheless
in coital terms a relative sexual
novice, which I suspected he
would already have guessed,
and that I now willingly
and honestly confess
to you that I was.
That essentially and until this carnal tryst between him
and me I’d embargoed sex with everyone, deliberately
and expectantly waiting in earnest anticipation for
what I truly regarded not only to be a romantic
but additionally and most fundamentally too
the essential virile, marvellously sexually
experienced and what I further saw as
the ideal man for me. Clearly, someone that unquestionably
and in terms of myself instinctively knew what I wanted
and furthermore was prepared to go out of his way to
concertedly ensure that I got it. And so unlike most
other girls in my general social ambit, either
incapable of or unwilling to exercise such
prudent discretion I, on the other hand,
was most willing and also prepared to imaginatively
postpone my sexual inauguration, while in the
meantime rather compensatorily, but oh so
pleasurably and satisfactorily all the
same, relieving my progressive
and intensive sexual urges
that were predictably
ongoing, through
habitual acts of
masturbation.
So I could not have been more elated when pleasurably
and totally unexpected for me, but truthfully all the
same I freely admit, and with all the rapturous
anticipation a passionately yearning woman
after an inordinately long wait such as my
own could envisage, muster or deliver
at avidly encouraging myself to be
uncompromisingly, consistently
and even savagely mated as I happily thought at the
time when he came along. For there he was built
like a well-rehearsed, fully knowledgeable
and purposely committed stallion, and
so maddeningly erotic with it, there
was no way I could possibly have either avoided or resisted
what I was challengingly faced with, even if I’d wanted
to, which I most certainly didn’t; and besides having
already and inescapably been visibly seduced by
him, my love-juices liberally and unrestrictedly
flowing and me spontaneously thrust into a
permissive situation where I was entirely
besides myself with unimpeded lust, I
had in effect willingly become that
corresponding and submissively
compliant mare that in eager
anticipation was most keen
to ardently copulate with
her robust stallion and,
as such, I just could
not wait for him to
correspondingly
stimulate me too, as he
unreservedly, ardently
and impatiently for
me, embarked on
the congenial
task of him
fucking
me.
So in a heated and unashamedly libidinous
anticipation of what I yearningly wished
for and realistically expected would
single-mindedly happen to me by
him and conducted in the most
persevering and sedulously
lustful manner that not
only me but also any
similar coition-craving female could creatively
and welcomingly perceive, and additionally
fully cognizant too that my now swollen
breasts, their rigidly erect nipples and
my palpably bloated clitoris, guardedly
perched atop my unmistakably gaping
vagina that sensually, unstoppably
and liberally was gushing forth
its own pithy contribution of
carnal outpouring, it was
unquestionably, I happily
persuaded myself, the
critical moment of
the long anticipated
wholly liberating
and momentous
beginning to
a euphoric
dawning.
And in this conjoined process of “les zones érogènes”
that summarily and unchallenged heralded in the
acute and prolonged escalation of lubricious
passion that thoroughly and altogether
transformationally swept through
my entire body and whose
overall effect, I freely
admit, involuntarily, but most pleasurably too
as my mind focused on him, successfully,
conspiratorially and most happily in
all of this triggered a succession
of highly intensive and hectic orgasms in me
that induced no other personal desire than
for me to willingly submit; and since
I wasn’t in any way intimidated by
anything and furthermore fully
appreciated everything that
was happening to me and
consequently there was
nowt amiss, why on
earth then would
I pragmatically
have wished
to resist?
But he most effectively ruined all that, and in
the process of doing so he not only made
me feel but also look like a prized prat!
For while he was decidedly keen to
charge at, mount, essay to and
eventually with his colossal
salami penetrate and brutishly ramrod my sopping twat
with the inelegant finesse of a bull in a China shop,
his frenzied and ungainly sorties inside my pussy
immediately and unceremoniously brought the
curtains down on my earlier, ludicrous and
manifestly fetched fantasies about him;
with me now earnestly wishing that
he would hurriedly discharge his
seminal load and finally relieved
of it, and doing the decent thing,
promptly dismount from my
body; and afterwards with
categorically no further
chance ever given to
him of being able
to have sex with
me just leave.
And true to form this self-centred narcissist, even
though I’d not mentioned any of this to him out
of personal embarrassment to my self, none
the less faithfully delivered on my silent
request as I’d fervently but all the same
humiliatingly hoped he would. For
shortly afterwards as if privy to
my unwavering aspiration that he forthwith terminated
his ham-fisted copulation of me, I felt him forcefully
seize hold of me and in this vice-like grip of his
that he frenziedly now exerted on me, plunged
his phallus energetically into my womb. A
few sporadic jerks from him afterwards
as it embedded itself there; a grunt
of contented pleasure too to my
accompanying disguised sigh
of relief that my emotional
nightmare as was my
sexual ordeal were
fortunately at
last over.
Barring the finalities that is; for despite him shooting his
sizeable load of cum inside of me and which frankly
was the only really substantial thing he’d successfully
managed to achieve I must say, he nevertheless
expressed his keen intention of staying indefinitely
on top of me and with his penis encased at the
same time within my fanny– triggering a
reflexive emotional consternation but
all the same verbally unexpressed
response from me that instantly
surged through my mind of
no way, not that day or at
any other time! For in the far from comfortable and
unsatisfactory situation that I was evidently in, it
made no sense whatever to me and therefore
wasn’t what I wanted him to do; and so I
convincingly persuaded him, as I also
encouragingly, lyingly and physically
assisted him in quite acceleratedly
dismounting from my body, that
pleasurably as it previously was
having him lying recumbent
on top of me, I needed at
that particular moment
however, to urgently
and unavoidably
get myself off
to the loo.
He readily accepted what I said but before I
could manage to vacate the bed we shared
he rather pathetically and egotistically
asked how it had been for me sexually.
I smiled winsomely. “What do you
think?” I purred dishonestly and
non-committedly. “Good!” he
responded effusively. Patronizingly adding: “It’s
not every day that a most charming and clearly
heterosexual young woman like you quite
consciously and so practicably opts to
relinquish her virginity as you have
done to the right and obviously a
vastly experienced man like me.
Make a bad decision and she
could so easily end up being
emotionally scarred for the
remainder of her life, repulsed by
sex and never able to fulfil her
romantic dreams.” I smiled
guardedly and answered
sardonically: “Yes; as
it happens, I know
precisely what
you mean!”
© Stanley V. Collymore
28 October 2015.
(2015)
The Author’s Remarks:
This is the real-life story, personally recounted to me and with the acquired permission of the lady involved to encapsulate it in a poem, of a heterosexual virgin who for her own pragmatic reasons – nothing to do with putting off having sex until she was married or any of those hackneyed moral reasons employed by supposed good girls for not getting laid but everything to do with having herself properly mated and thoroughly satisfied on her first sexual outing when that occurred, and therefore with total self-restraint intentionally eschewed having sexual intercourse with any man as she resolutely waited for her version of the right man to come along and unabashed deflower her. Only to be acutely disappointed and herself personally mortified by the reality of what happened to her when she eventually chose to voluntarily surrender her virginity. Throughout the retelling of this story I’ve carefully sought to retain its raw spirit, imagery and authenticity without which the poem would have been utterly meaningless and therefore have provided no good reason for me to write it.
Français: Ceci est l’histoire de la vie réelle personnellement raconté à moi et avec la permission acquis de la dame impliquée de l’encapsuler dans un poème d’une vierge hétérosexuels qui, pour ses propres raisons pragmatiques – rien à voir avec la mise hors d’avoir des relations sexuelles jusqu’ à ce qu’elle soit mariée ou l’une de ces raisons morales écules employées par soi-disant bonnes filles pour ne pas être licencies, mais tout à voir avec le fait elle-même correctement accouplés et complètement convaincu, sur sa première sortie sexuelle quand cela a eu lieu, et donc avec la maîtrise de soi totale intentionnellement évite d’avoir des rapports sexuels avec tout l’homme comme elle résolument attendait sa version de l’homme droit de venir et éhontée sa déflorée. Seulement être gravement déçu et se personnellement mortifié par la réalité de ce qui lui est arrive quand elle a finalement décide de se rendre volontairement sa virginité. Tout au long du récit de cette histoire, je l’ai soigneusement cherché à conserver son esprit brut, l’imagerie et l’authenticité sans laquelle le poème aurait été tout à fait dénué de sens et ont donc fourni aucune bonne raison pour moi de l’écrire.
Deutsch: Dies ist die wahre Geschichte persoenlich zu mir und mit dem erworbenen Erlaubnis der Dame beteiligt, um es in einem Gedicht eines heterosexuellen Jungfrau, die zu ihrem eigenen pragmatischen Gruenden einzukapseln erzaehlt – nichts mit Ablegen Sex, bis sie verheiratet war oder nicht einer dieser abgedroschene moralischen Gruenden von vermeintlich guten Maedchen fuer nicht beschaeftigt, sich mit insgesamt Selbstsbeschraenkung festgelegt, sondern alles, was mit mit zu tun sich selbst richtig gepaart und an ihrem ersten sexuellen Ausflug sehr zufrieden, wenn das eingetreten ist, und deshalb absichtlich vermied Geschlechtsverkehr mit jeder Mann, als sie entschieden wartete auf ihre Version der richtige Mann zu kommen und ungeniert entjungfert sie. Nur akut entaeuscht sein und sich persoenlich von der Realitaet dessen, was mit ihr passiert ist, als sie schliesslich entschied sich freiwillig ergeben ihre Jungfraeulichkeit gedemuetigt. Waehrend der gesamten Nacherzaehlung dieser Geschichte habe ich sorgfaeltig bemueht, ihre rohen Geist, Bildsprache und Authentizitaet, ohne die das Gedicht waere voellig sinnlos gewesen und haben daher haben keinen guten Grund versehen fuer mich, es zu schreiben zu behalten.
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