If V is for vagina and B is for butthole, then this is the story of loosing my B- ginity.
None of the great virginity-losing scenes of the early 2000s teen movies prepared me for what more was to come. After the much-sought-after initial deflowering, popular culture rarely touches on the possibility of 'other' first times.
This unforgotten gem of sexual purity had remained with me through my more scandalous years as a reckless hussy, and stayed loyal throughout my first long term relationship. My small frame and high standards of personal hygiene had convinced me that this ‘second’ virginity was here to stay.
That was until a darling man in a matching two-piece came knocking at my door.
Within days of our first date he was curiously inspecting parts of my body that were before now reserved only for gynaecological and orthodontic examination. I trusted him, I allowed it, and I even liked it.
So when he came knocking at another door, I just said yes. I trusted him, I allowed it, and I really fucking liked it.
Losing my anal virginity wasn’t like losing my first virginity. It was sexy, special and super comfortable. Actually, it was all of the things that the teen movie virginity scenes had promised, orgasm and all.