I Lost My 3 Virginities Because of My Scarcity Mindset
There’s always time to do it right
Virginity’s kind of a tricky concept.
Which isn’t all that surprising, because sex is pretty complex and not all that straightforward.
And yeah, I’m aware that plenty of people think it’s really obvious. You’re a virgin until the moment a dick snuggles into your pussy’s warm embrace.
But I don’t know, it never seemed that clear cut to me.
Like okay, sure. Once you bang it out like that, you’re probably not a virgin anymore. I can get on board with that.
But what about grinding on a guy’s knee until you come? That feels like a pretty big leap forward into your sex life.
Then there’s the first time you play with someone’s dick. Or the first time you part your lips and put your mouth on one. If that doesn’t count as fucking, it’s at least fuck adjacent.
And then there are the ladies, who I happen to be extremely attracted to.
When you get it on with another girl, where’s the cutoff? At what point does it stop being a pillow fight that went too far and turns into a proper grownup slumber party?
It can’t just be when one of you busts out the strap-on. By that point you might already be married and trying to spice things up.
So yeah, it’s kind of a confusing concept.
But I think I’ve pinned it down - at least for me, personally. If I look back on my own personal history, I’d say I’ve lost my virginity a total of three times.
They were all moments when I felt like I hit some kind of big sexual milestone.
They all changed me in some pretty major ways.
And they were all things I did for the wrong reasons.
I was young and foolish, so I didn’t lose any of my virginities because I felt horny and ready. I didn’t do it because the sex stars had aligned and everything felt right.
I did it because I had a scarcity mindset about sex. And like every other kind of scarcity mindset, it meant I didn’t always make the best decisions.
Losing My Traditional Virginity
Being a virgin at sixteen really isn’t a big deal. But it sure felt like one to me.
For whatever reason, I got it in my head that it was a problem I had to deal with. I couldn’t finish high school and still be unfucked - that would be all sorts of embarrassing.
The clock was ticking, and I was convinced I only had one shot. And that shot happened to be the boy with the soft lips who agreed to go steady with me.
See, I didn’t have the best self-esteem back then. So I was kind of shocked that any guy liked me at all - and such a good kisser, no less. And I was convinced that if I lost him, I’d probably end up single until high school was over - maybe even forever.
I knew I’d let him hit it sometime before graduation. I just wasn’t sure when.
But then he decided he was through with me and started courting one of my friends.
I felt him slipping away, so I played the only card I had left. I told him we could have sex.
And because a bird in the hand is better than two in some other virgin’s bush, he stuck it out with me - long enough to stick it in me, anyway.
I wasn’t actually ready. I was more nervous than excited. But at least I knew I wouldn’t go to prom still hoping someone would deflower me.
It wasn’t a horrible fuck, either. It was awkward. There wasn’t nearly enough enthusiasm. And zero romance, because there usually isn’t much of that when you’re fucking someone so they don’t leave you.
But it still felt good. As soon as he was inside me, I realized why sex was worth obsessing over.
I just didn’t know it was sometimes worth waiting for. Because it didn’t have to be subpar sex with someone who didn’t really love me, so much as loved the fact that I put out.
Losing My Anal Virginity
There was something thrilling about being the girl who did buttstuff.
Not because I wanted to brag about it or anything - though yeah, I might’ve done that a couple of times.
It was more that I found the idea really hot, vaguely kinky, and sort of essential. Like my sex journey wouldn’t be complete until someone had a really good go at my ass.
And it didn’t take long for that to happen. But it probably should’ve. Because like a whole lot of women before me, I gave my ass to the wrong guy.
I didn’t realize that at the time, though. Because I was still young and wide-eyed, and he was so attractive and sweet to me.
For a while, anyway.
Our little honeymoon period faded pretty quickly. The super affectionate guy I was head over heels for had turned chillingly cold. The undivided attention he gave me practically disappeared.
And he stopped fucking me in a way that left me feeling like I was floating on a soft cloud. Instead, he started getting annoyed at me for not fucking him the right way.
Because I had two little tiny boundaries at the time.
I was happy to suck him off - like, seriously overjoyed to pleasure him with my mouth. But I didn’t want him to come between my lips and I certainly didn’t want to swallow his load.
I also knew that I would eventually arch my back, push my bare ass in the air, and beg him to slide his cock into it - gently, slowly, but all the way down to the base of the shaft please. Just not yet - I didn’t feel ready to do more than fantasize about it.
He didn’t want to wait, though. He pestered me about it constantly - real charming behavior, I know. And the more time passed without me swallowing or letting him hit the back door, the colder he got with me.
And look, nowadays I know emotional manipulation when I see it. I can suss out love bombing as soon as the fuse is lit.
But back then, I was just scared. I thought I had scored a great guy and I was about to lose him - all because I’m no fun to fuck.
So, I decided to get fun.
After learning zero lessons from my last serious relationship, I decided to let him bang my butt. And all of a sudden he was sweet and affectionate again. Go figure.
And it went about the way it usually goes when you have anal sex you don’t really want.
It was uncomfortable. He wasn’t careful or gentle with me. I wasn’t turned on in the least.
The only thing that helped me power through were the butterflies in my stomach - the feeling that he finally loved me again, that he was going to stay, and that things were going back to the way they were.
And I guess in a way they did - they went back to the way they were before I met him. Because he still dumped my ass even after I let him have his way with it.
I came out of that relationship with a bit more experience. I learned about a few red flags. And even though I wasn’t one when I met him, I definitely felt like less of a virgin after getting it from every end.
Losing My Bisexual Virginity
I was only 19 but felt like I’d already done it all.
Hand stuff, mouth stuff, buttstuff. I’d been in the middle of a couple of threesomes. I had outdoor sex, risky semi-public sex, and the guy who ran the local sex shop always recognized me.
But the thing is, I did all those things with guys.
A lot of it was fun and exciting, but I still didn’t feel totally complete. Because I was also really attracted to women, and I had a really strong desire to explore that side of myself.
There was only one problem. I had already met the love of my life. Like, for real this time. Not just some asshole who gave me hormonal butterflies, but a guy who treated me so well I ended up marrying him.
Which was great. Except I felt like my window for experimenting had closed.
I’d never get to date girls, kiss girls, and sleep with girls. I was locked in with a dude and locked in good. It’s not like I was going to leave him or anything, but it still really bummed me out.
Fast forward to my next birthday and things got kind of weird kind of quick.
It was a really small celebration. Just me and my boyfriend, my friend Abby and her boyfriend, some cake, and lots of cheap booze.
It happened once we were all nice and tipsy. Abby put the moves on me - and she wasn’t subtle about it.
Things were about to go down. Like literally, we were less than half an hour away from going down on each other.
So, I had a choice to make and I had to make it fast.
Abby was cute and I liked her quite a lot. Though not really in that way.
I kind of worried it would make things awkward between us, too.
And I didn’t really think there would be two guys involved the first time I’d get frisky with a lady.
But this was it. This was my chance to get it on with a girl before I locked it down with Mr. Austin and started my long and blissful wife life.
So, I let Abby put the moves on me. I put a few back on her, too.
And I wish it would’ve all led up to group sex that was as hot as a foursome should be. But mostly, it was awkward.
I was drunk and clumsy. I was nervous the whole time, and not in an adorable way. And because we started our little pussy party without really talking about it, I was never fully sure what the guys were going to do - I don’t think they knew what they were supposed to do either.
So, the guys watched. Their hands got involved, but they only danced with the girls they came with.
Abby and I made out, played with each other’s tits, and licked pussy like it was just a normal thing we did on any drunken evening.
Then Abby and her boyfriend got into a bit of a fight. Things got tense, uncomfortable, and way too quiet. They called a cab, probably had a louder fight when they got back to their place, and I spent the rest of the night processing everything that had just happened.
I stayed friends with Abby for a while, then we drifted apart. But because I panicked and decided to let her feel me up that night, she’ll always be my first.
There’s Always Going to Be More Sex
I rushed into all my first times.
None of them happened because I was turned on, felt ready, and found the right person.
They all happened because I felt like my options were running out.
I had this major scarcity mindset about sex because on some level I felt like I didn’t deserve it. I was convinced that I wasn’t cute or charming enough to get laid. Every time it happened, it felt like a fluke.
When a guy liked me or a girl put the moves on me, it caught me by surprise. So I clung to it, because I always worried it might be my last real shot.
It would be my last chance to get laid before I turned into a college-aged virgin. And yeah, of course now I realize how fucking hot that is. But at the time, it kind of scared me.
It would be my last chance to hold onto a guy I thought was totally out of my league. Who knows, maybe even my only opportunity to get a dick in my ass - and I didn’t want to die without trying that at least once.
And quite possibly my one and only shot to bury my face between a girl’s thighs.
So, I went with it because I was kind of scared. Which isn’t the best reason to fuck anyone, let alone for the first time.
And I kind of wish I could go back and tell myself that.
Because there’s always more sex to come - especially if you actually put in the effort to get some. There’s no reason to jump on a dick like it’s the last one you’ll ever see.
I cheated myself out of having great first time experiences. Instead of filling my spank bank with my hot stories I can still masturbate to, I just did things I sort of regret.
And I was totally and completely wrong. Because there was lots of great sex ahead, with plenty more to come. All I needed was to hold out for the right person and the right moment.
If you liked this article, you should totally check out the Sexy Semi-Naked Ladies (Legwarmers, Fancy Hats, and Goth Cowgirls) episode of my dirty and intimate sex podcast, Pillow Talk With Emma Austin!
