I lost my virginity when I was 18. I lost it in ‘love hotel’ near Mt. Fuji to a man who was my first-ever boyfriend (I don’t think the three day relationship I had with the gay guy in high school counts!) He was the first man I’d ever kissed and it so happened that that man also happened to be a virgin at the time. Seven years later that particular man ended up becoming my husband- with neither of us having had sex with anyone else but each other.
As we drove into the underground car park hidden by a curtain of hanging plastic strips – strategically placed to hide the number plates of the already parked cars in case any snooping spouses were around – I had a feeling that the moment of the big event had arrived. I didn’t tell him that I’d never kissed anyone before let alone done the deed, so his first comment when he saw the red spots on the sheets the next morning was predictably, “Nande oshienkatta no?!?!!” …because of course, it was Japan and he was Japanese! I believe though, that the sentiment behind his, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me??” translates across cultures between men everywhere who have popped the cherry of a young lass.
As you can see from this story, it’s obvious that I didn’t spend my formative years as the town bike. And for all my amassed knowledge from years of reading Cosmopolitan, I was sorely lacking in the sexual experimentation area. While I wasn’t planning on making an appearance at a purity ball anytime soon, I did feel that kissing and all that jazz was something special that I didn’t want to do with just anyone. That’s probably why the ‘princess by day, slut by night’ role required of me stretches the limits of my skills and is slowly but surely erasing the last vestiges of a purist morality belonging to my former self. ‘Princess all the way’ is probably something more akin to the the person I used to be.
Inside my head has always been a bit of a different story though. My fantasies are nasty and verge on the ‘dirty little slut by day and night’ kind. Fucking in all holes, group use peppered with beatings…any and all acts of the wantonly slutty kind run through my head on a regular basis. But they’re nice and safe thoughts because they exist only in my head… and up there I’m a different person.
Up there I’m a sexual animal that is comfortable with her sensuality. I revel in my power to please men. I’m comfortable in my skin and know that I am desirable and attractive.
My task at the moment is to make the me ‘up there’ a reality for the me ‘down here’. At times it seems like a bit of an impossible task, but I suppose it’s just another step on the way to self-actualisation, and another thing to add to my growing list of ‘things to do’.