Lauren Cole

I’ve never really been comfortable with the concept of sex. Of course, that doesn’t mean I’ve not had it. My first real kiss was at 14, my second at 17. In both cases, the guys groped me without much skill, which made me feel strange but I’m not going to lie and say some of it didn’t feel good. These experiences weren’t about me, they were about guys trying to score with a girl. They were short lived relationships for me.

I’ve always felt that sex should be intimate and beautiful. It should happen at a time when both parties are ready and they really feel something for each other. All I used to feel was lonely when I ended up in the arms of guys who merely wanted me because they didn’t want to be virgins anymore. Fortunately, I was independent enough to have stood my ground and say no as soon as I got uncomfortable. The furthest either of them got was still on top of my clothes. I never touched them back.

My third kiss, though…that was something else. Just shy of 18, I was out with a guy whom I had approached and discovered liked me. We flirted shyly for a while and then, in the park, below the stars, he leaned over and kissed me. Fireworks literally went off, as there were people celebrating somewhere in the neighbourhood. I smiled and my body tingled, but I didn’t let him see my fear that this would just be another guy trying to take advantage of me. Instead, we kept talking, cuddling, kissing a little more, and we kept it innocent.

I was ecstatic to find a guy who was not just using me for my body. I might have been getting As in all my classes, but my Ds were what really got the other guys’ attention and I couldn’t stand it. In this case, though, my new guy genuinely liked me for me. The flow of conversation never seemed to stop between us.

Like any teenagers, we didn’t just talk, but we did a decent job of keeping things slow. We started out by massaging one another’s backs while kissing, then progressed to kissing around the neck. Eventually, I allowed him to touch me in ways that drove me wild. Simply having his hands under my shirt, even if they were still only on my back, was a huge step for me.

The most intimate experience occurred in my house late on a Saturday night. He and I had watched a movie with my mom and her boyfriend and then they went upstairs to give us privacy. Not really in the mood for another movie, I turned on some music. We lay on the couch and talked for a bit, but soon we were kissing. He kept his hands to my lower back and hips, knowing that was what I was comfortable with. With being so close and him on top of me, we started to move together. It was at a relatively slow pace and we were still just kissing, but I ended up having an orgasm. I had masturbated (many times) and brought myself over the edge that way, but this was the first time someone had managed to make me feel that kind of pleasure, even though we were both still wearing our jeans! Right after it happened, we looked at each other, he brushed my hair out of my face and said, “So beautiful.” I smiled and settled into his arms.

I’m still a virgin and I’m still with him. We haven’t got much further physically than that experience, but being with him is intimate and beautiful. I can see myself with him long term and losing my virginity to him because I may be young, but I’ve never been happier. He makes me feel safe, never pushes me beyond what I’m comfortable with, and he cares for me on an emotional and intellectual level. I enjoy being with him in every single way, because I know I’m not just some girl to him.

Lauren Cole is a Christian teen who craves knowledge.