I was almost 24 before I lost what some people refer to as my “virginity”. But that I mean that I was almost 24 before my hymen was broken. And I broke it myself. I broke it myself so that someone else wouldn’t get to.
Ok, so here’s the thing. When I came out as lesbian, my parents freaked out. And my mom made me promise that if ever a guy asked me out, unless I had a good reason to say “no”, then I’d say “yes”. Umm… what about having a good reason to say ‘yes”? What about not wanting to being a good reason to say “no”? Those are quibbling kinds of questions. I was 22 at the time, my parents were freaking out, I agreed to try so we could get back to peace.
Fast forward nearly 2 years. During that time I’d been sexually active with women, but I don’t think I’d ever been penetrated. Certainly not with more than a single finger. But I was definitely not a virgin by any definition than that of hymeneal integrity. Still, hymeneal integrity is a pretty strong standard of virginity here in the land of “I’ll do anal but not vaginal so I’m still a virgin when I get married” and “oral sex doesn’t really count as sex”. Plus I was fiery about my queerness and equality and SO SICK of people thinking that lesbians don’t have sex, or that lesbian sex doesn’t count because it doesn’t involve an ejaculating cock.
Anyway, the month or so before I turned 22 a guy showed some interest in me. He was part of my Dungeons & Dragons gaming group. A new guy, and pretty aggressive. He asked me out and that old promise I’d made to my other kicked in like a geas. Did I like him? Meh. He was The New Guy. Did I have a good reason to say “no” other than my lukewarm reaction to him? Sigh, no.
But I did start to get a bit worried. We talked A LOT about sex in that gaming group. And while I don’t remember exactly what was said, I do remember that the guys there vascillated between being dismissive of my sex life and being really intrigued by it. My brother was a part of that group, too, and we all got a kick out of grossing him out through talking about fisting and double dildos (even though I’d never done either at the time). Anyway, I don’t remember what was said, but I do remember that the guy who asked me out, at least, was pretty held up on the “specialness” of a girl’s virg– NO, hymeneal integrity. Which I was pretty sure I still possessed*.
Ok, so we go out. He wanted to do dinner and a movie. Ok. Unimaginative, but acceptable. But then the movie turned out to be Last of the Dogmen on VHS. That he wanted to watch at my house. Gah. Whatever. Now, I had a rather over protective dog at the time. Part pit bull, part rottweiler, all crazy in love with me and sure everyone not in my immediate family was trying to kill me. I was doing private one-on-one training with her and specialist for aggressive dogs, but she was still pretty difficult. I had a muzzle for her, and most of the time when I had people over to my apartment, I kept her in my room. But this time… I put her muzzle on her, just in case, but I let her stay out in the living room. I had a feeling that the movie was just a ploy to get me alone, in my house, on a couch, in the dark. Phooka took care of that for me, inserting her growling, bristling, 80lbs self between me and my would-be suitor and staring at him with hot, amber eyes that promised a painful death to him if she could ever get that muzzle off. He didn’t get far that night, which is a good thing, because, like I said in previous posts, I have a hard time saying no to people who are in my house and want sex.
He kissed me as he left that night (the growling dog forced between our legs keeping us from getting too close) and said he definitely wanted to go out again. After he left I started thinking. I didn’t see how I was going to be able to keep saying no to sex if we kept going out, and while that wasn’t great, but wasn’t THAT disturbing, what was disturbing was the premium he placed on virginity. And the way he defined it. And, DAMMIT, I didn’t like him enough to want him to feel special, or like he was special to me. (Which, you know, maybe was a clue that I shouldn’t be thinking of having sex with him, but whatever, I was young and stupid.)
So I decided to break my own hymen. Own my own body. Take my own “virginity”. After all, it was MINE.
Now, a friend a year or so before had given me a rabbit vibrator. The kind with a rotating dildo part and a rabbit with vibrating ears for the clit. Not being one for penetration, I used the dildo part as a handle to better control the vibrating ears on my clit. The night after the date I decided to use this handy toy to break my hymen. I bought some lube even though I’d never needed it before (my own being plenty for my general needs, but just in case this required extra) and after dinner lay down to DO THIS THING. I gave myself an orgasm first so that I’d be all soft and squishy and high off endorphins.
Then I gently started easing that thing in. Dear god, it hurt! I stopped when it was barely inside me and breathed and tried to relax, tried to accommodate. Eventually the burning sensation stopped and I tried pushing it in some more. OW OW OW OW!!! I stopped, and breathed, and tried to relax. Now two things about me you should know. 1) I have a really high pain tolerance. So when I say this hurt, I mean it FUCKING HURT. 2) I subscribe to the bandaid theory of painful things: just fucking RIP THEM OFF. So after a third time of moving the damn thing inside me maybe half an inch, only to be stopped by pain, I thought to myself: what would a guy do? Why, a guy would just fucking go for it.** Still, my cunt was throbbing and sore and this wasn’t fun anymore, so I decided that I had time and I pulled it out (and yes, there was some blood), cleaned up, and went to sleep.
The next day I decided to finish the job. Again, I masturbated. But this time I didn’t masturbate to orgasm. At the time I was a one orgasm a night kinda gal, and I thought I’d give myself an orgasm to look forward to after finishing the job of getting that dildo all the way in. So I got myself feeling warm and squodgy and then lubed the dildo up and began inserting it. Again, it hurt, but this time instead of stopping I gritted my teeth, took a big breath in, and on the exhale SHOVED THAT THING INSIDE ME.
Oh my holy fucking hell did it hurt. But with it all the way inside me, hey! the rabbit ears reached my clit, so I turned them on and masturbated to orgasm with the dildo inside me. It took a long time. Like I’ve said before, I don’t find pain to be erotic so much as distracting. But eventually I did come, the contractions of my orgasm sending more shivers of pain through me. But welling up with the pleasure and the pain was a sense of triumph. I had done it! I pulled the dildo out and looked at the blood with something close to joy. Now no man, and particularly not that one I thought most likely, would get to preen about having taken the lesbian’s virginity.
Years later when I would hear girls talk about wanting to screw some lame guy just so they could get rid of their virginity, I would tell them this story. Some of them looked appalled, some of them looked pitying. But some of them looked thoughtful, and those were the ones I was telling the story for.
As for the guy? He insisted on a second date, me making him dinner, and then he stood me up. I had dinner all ready and he never showed. He called the next morning saying he’d had a work emergency, but while this was before cell phones, it wasn’t before work phones… that gave me a reason to say “no” that even my mom could approve of, so I gleefully said no and never looked back (though later that summer he tried confessing a powerful love for me during a large camping trip that he coincidentally also attended). He gamed for another couple of weekends, but then dropped out of the group. And while I had never told the guys what had happened, they all said they were glad to see him gone. He was a player, but not a good one.
*there are girls whose hymens aren’t the bloody barriers to penetration that our popular culture has made them out to be. Particulary when you’re not “taking” them shortly after the onset of menstruation. So while I’d never been penetrated with something larger than a finger, I wasn’t sure that I really had anything to “break”.
** ok, maybe not EVERY man, but the ones I figured I’d most likely run into wanting the job…