Sex Life of a Virgin

Sex Life of a Virgin.

INTRODUCTON

Okay, seeing as I have decided to write this book much against my better judgment I may as well tell you the truth. I am a twenty four year old virgin.

I know what you are thinking, she must be a nun or she must be one of those people who don’t believe in sex before marriage but the truth is, I am neither of those women.

In fact sometimes I get so horny that it’s up to my battery powered friend which I keep hidden under my bed to satisfy my needs and, don’t get me wrong vibrators are great, in fact I have even had a multiple orgasm from one of my shaky little friends, I am just beginning to grow out of them.

You know, like a puppy grows out of his small collars or when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly. I need sex! I need sex!

Sometimes I want to shout it from the roof tops, sometimes I want to rip all of my clothes off and run around the village naked, calling out to all of the available men, screaming come and get me, come and get me!

I know what you’re thinking now, she’s twenty four, a virgin, she’s not a nun and she isn’t waiting for marriage and she owns a vibrator… she must be a minger.

Well true I am no Angelina Jolie but I like to think of myself as pretty. I have shoulder length dark hair (which is going sparse due to copious amounts of dying including one particularly bad weekend when I ended up looking like Frankenstein’s bride when I dyed my hair from black to blonde and it went a sickly shade of green) lovely green eyes (hidden behind lenses so thick that if you looked up at the sky with them you would be able to see the passengers in a plane) and a nice trim figure (not including arms so flabby that when I wave to my friends the spare flesh needs an extra few seconds to come to a standstill.)

All in all, I’m not bad. I mean it’s not as though I haven’t had plenty of offers for sex, it’s not as though I am some old spinster living alone and surrounded by hundreds of mangy cats (although come to think of it I do live alone and I do have a cat…and I thought that this book might help me come to terms with my life and who I am, instead it’s just making me want to kill myself! I mean, I live alone with a cat. How cliché is that?!) It’s not as though I have never had any sexual experiences because I have, I have just never had intercourse. What a strange term for having sex, it sounds like some new fangled sport; I could just imagine coming home from school and telling my mum and dad that I made the team for intercourse.

I mean, come on! It’s not rocket science, you stick it in and thrust it about a bit and if you’re lucky one of you might score… What about ‘sexual relations’, now that sounds like your family coming around for a nice evening in… ‘Yes, mum and dad you are both invited. Of course you can bring Aunt Betty and Uncle Ted to sexual relations, not a problem!’

I mean when did sex become this huge thing in everyone’s life? All of my friends have done it and are still doing it and all of my friends talk about nothing else, it’s as though once you have had sex you can never go back. If you have done it once then, well of course you need to do it over and over again to get it just right.

You see sex in films and in books, you hear about it on the radio and in songs you just can’t seem to get away from it and so I admire those few out there who are waiting for the perfect person to come along and rock their world, sex shouldn’t be some mad rush to get an orgasm that lasts for a grand total of five seconds (if you’re lucky) it should be something to feel special about… or am I really just one of those bitter old women who watch romantic films only to sneer at the sheer disbelief of a millionaire falling in love with a hooker?