I wanted to blog on Xanga for fun, but let me have my serious emo moment right now. Pause the epic of the virgin, the virgin and I have some problems to adjust.

Monday night, my boyfriend calls me and asks me out of the blue if I was hiding anything from him. Surely, I was, but it was nothing that I found to disrupt our relationship. So I lied and said no. He then said, "Well, you put your phone on lock, and you were getting defensive about me checking your phone and camera."
Fuck, I was like a deer in front of headlights, I remained quiet. The awkward silence caused him to say he'd just call me back later.
Later never came, and I was left to sink in the thoughts about what he said. He was right, I do leave my phone on lock for a reason, and I didn't want him to see certain pictures that appeared suggestive to what wasn't even there.
Nonetheless, I felt horribly guilty for hiding stuff from him. And so, I was left to think about it all night, and the more I thought about it, the more fucked up I felt.
I wasn't cheating on him, that's probably what he was thinking. But I wasn't exactly honest about who I hung out with and what situations I put myself in. I figured, if I wasn't cheating, there's no reason to mention such things for they might just cause him to get paranoid. Its not like I would cheat anyway, I'm completely loyal in that aspect.
However way I tried to convince myself it was perfectly fine, by the next day, I felt the need to just tell him the whole fucking truth, as fucked up as it seemed.
I waited all fucking day to tell him. I texted him at night to tell him we had to talk, I also texted him in the morning as well. I didn't receive a reply until noontime, and he told me to go over so we could finally talk. After I got ready, he decided to change his mind because he had a headache and needed to nap first. Great, he wanted to put the luxury of a nap before an important serious talk. That got my nerves inflamed and rattled. But all I could do was wait, and I waited for 5 fucking hours.
I was to the point of saying fuck it, nevermind, I'm not going to waste my time on a stupid boy, but then he finally called to say he was ready to talk. Great. So I headed over to his house, ready to breathe fire, forgetting that I was the guilty one at the moment.
When I got there, I was ready to bitch-slap him for making me wait, but instead he hugged me before I could say anything. Then I remembered, wait....I'm the fucking guilty one here. As so I suddenly got choked up and became silent.
We sat on the floor of the hidden room next to his garage (ah, wonderful memories we had in there). We were both so very quiet, you could here the conversations that were going on upstairs. We didn't make any direct eye contact, our feet barely even touched each other. We just sat there for a good 15 minutes in utter awkward silence until he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and said, "I have to admit to you, I never really quit smoking."
Ahhhh, so that's why he asked if I was hiding anything, because he had his own dirty little secret as well. Fucker, I've dated enough smokers to know what Marlboro Menthols and Newports taste like. I wasn't dumb, I just never mentioned I knew I tasted tobacco when I kissed him. And so, he spent a good couple of minutes explaining himself and left the floor to me.
Great, my turn, he passed me the sharing stick. I didn't want to share anymore. My truth was too fucked up compared to his small smoking habit. So I sat there in silence, letting my bangs cover my face so he couldn't see the anxiety in my eyes.
Then he asked the question, the big obvious fucking question, "Are you cheating on me?"
I told him no, straight up without any hesitation.
"But then why do you lock your phone? Why don't you answer certain calls when I'm around? I'm not stupid. You're always on your phone with me, I don't mind that. But I've noticed you don't answer calls or open texts when certain names pop up, why is that? I don't want to accuse you. You know I'm not the jealous type, but what are you hiding?"
I remained quiet and let him continue his monologue.
"I trust you, I want you to know that. You could tell me anything, and I probably won't judge you. You know I'm not possessive or jealous, I always let you go out with your friends, who are mostly guys. Shoot, I even don't care when you go clubbin', so please just tell me."
Weee, that was when the floodworks started, and I was bawling like a fucking five year old who got caught playing with fire.
Then I admitted to him everything.
How I still hang out with guys who I used mess around with, but it wasn't in that way, we were just friends now, its just...they had the tendency to still flirt with me, and I'd innocently flirt back.
How I'd put myself in situations, like sleeping over their house, that would risk me cheating on him, but nothing ever happened, I never let it.
How I was a promiscuous one when I was younger, how I've done more guys than my fingers and toes could count. And I still talked to a handful of them.
How I had bench warmers, guys that were always willing to shower me with attention and affection, just in case I needed them for whenever I felt lonely. But I never used them during our relationship, they were just there for convenience.
I explained to him that's why my phone was on lock, because I didn't want him to see the messages from my guy friends who would text me "Hey hun, miss you." or "Darlin', whatcha doing? Come over." which would suggest that I was cheating. But in all fucking honesty, I wasn't.
So eya, I cried and cried, feeling like a horrible fucking idiot for having this secret when this relationship was going so well.
He picked me off the floor and hugged me. I bawled and shivered in his arms, apologizing profusely, telling him I wasn't cheating, I just didn't want him to take it the wrong way. He held me and just said, "I know babes, but I need to think about it. Give me time to think about it."
So he suggested he drive me home, and when I got out of the car and stepped onto the sidewalk, he sped off. He never does that, he'll usually wait for me to get into my house. So I fucking starting weeping again like a big baby into my house, and for the first time in ages, I cried on my mother's shoulder.
And since then, I've been feeling quite emo, to the point where I'm starting to have anxiety attacks and waves of depression (I was diagnosed with clinical depression when I was a teenager). I'm soo anxious now, waiting for him to give me an answer. I don't even care what answer he gives me, I just want to know what the fuck is going on in his head.
I can't blame him for taking so long. I mean, he's a virgin, hasn't been in a real relationship for eight years, and here he is, finding a girl that has a weird circle of friends and a very promiscuous past.
I feel utterly awful for putting him through this, but now he's putting me through the torture of waiting. I'm trying to give him his time and space, but I feel like horrible crap every second, minute, and hour I don't hear from him. I know, I know, UBER EMO.
When will this madness end?

So, my current boyfriend is…well, was, a virgin, a fucking twenty-six year old virgin. How the fuck? I don’t know. And me, well, obviously, I’m not.

Since I'm quite fascinated with the aspect of my boyfriend being a virgin, I've decided to make an epic out of it. I'm going to try my best to put all the events in chronicological order, but if not, who cares, no one would realize it anyway. It's sad and a bit obsessive, I know, to be logging this all down, but I find it highly enthralling. An entertainment worth sharing.
I have never been with a virgin, so my expectations are a bit askewed. And this boy never fails to arou..i mean amuse me. Virgins are fun. XD

It was kind of funny how I found out. The fucking craphole was too shy to tell me in person and decided to send me a text right after he dropped me off home one night. I’m kind of happy he did that though because I cringed when I read the text. I made that face of utter shock and well..horrid disapproval.
I had just barely met him about a week and a half prior, and here he was, telling me (through text, of course), that he had to confess that he was a virgin because he had felt strong feelings for me and had hoped I had felt the same way.
And since I know how guys are, I basically translated to:
“Okay, I haven’t lost my virginity yet. it’s a bit pathetic I know, but I’m telling you this because I hope I can finally lose it, so eya…..will you take it?”
Feelings or not, that motherfucker’s hormones were finally raging, and of course, I am the kind of girl that is quite open with her sexuality. So he was smart enough to collaborate with his dick and chose me to “confess” to.
So at the time, I was thinking to myself, there must be something wrong with him for him to still be a virgin. I mean, he’s a pretty decent looking guy, for god sakes, I’m dating him. A bit reserved and quiet, but overall, I’m sure he can nab some pussy if he were to try. Then the possibility of him having a little weewee dawned on me, which would be sooooo bad considering my previous boyfriend was Black, and that’s just plain self-explanatory. This boy is already Asian, so I already knew he couldn’t match up. But man, if he had a pencil dick, I would have to crawl to the corner and cry.
Therefore, I just had to pry, so I had to ask him. He wasn’t very clear about it either. He just told me that he had a girlfriend when he was eighteen and that he was about to do it with her, but something didn’t feel right to him. And he was quite thankful he didn’t because they ended up breaking up anyway.
Eya, that story didn’t help clarify much to me because helloooo, there’s an awful big time gap between the ages of 18 and 26. So wtf was going on during those eight years that he couldn’t seem to get laid? Still to this day, I don’t know. And it bugs me, horribly so.

So when we started fore-playing, yay second base!, I was quite surprised that it wasn’t too awkward. It was moreso enjoyable than anything, because eya, two hours of foreplay?! Since when the fuck does a guy have the patience and consideration to give a girl the pleasure of a two hour long session of pure foreplay?! That shit you can only find in romance novels, even porn doesn’t go through foreplay for that long.
I was in heaven, of course. To bask in heavy make-out sessions and dry-humpings, felt like high school. For about a week, we were simply sucking face and rubbing each other down through our clothes. It did get us hot and steamy though, uberly so. I didn't know so much tension would take so much effort.
But of course, through the whole time I had to fight an urge to yank all his clothes off and just rape him. However, I kept reminding myself that he was a virgin. That kept my "beast" down from ravaging him. I didn't want to face the awkward moment of de-virginizing him just yet, especially when foreplay was getting me off. I knew if and when I would take his virginity I wouldn't be getting off that night.
When he finally decided to take my clothes off, I was absolutely thrilled. For one, our make-out sessions were getting awfully hot and stuffy. And two, I wanted to see if he had any experience touching and licking.
And THANK FUCKING GOD HE DID.
With the exception of him rubbing my clit wrong, a common mistake guys make, he did quite well in the oral and manual department.
*Note: Guys, most girls hate getting direct stimulation on their clits. It fucking hurts. Do not rub up and down, and DO NOT TAKE IT OUT OF THE HOOD. The clit complex has like 8,000 nerve endings, when your dicks have only 4,000. So eya, our little tiny nubs are sensitive as hell. Be gentle, rub side to side or in circles. Feels much better, thank you very much.
So one day, I asked him "how virgin was he". Luckily, I did it coyly because I so happen to be taking a human sexuality class in college anyway. I made up a story of the professor giving us a survey that asked if we ever watched porn, oralled, fingered, fucked, analed, etc to calculate how much experience we have been through in comparison to statistics. My boyfriend told me that he had NO experience whatsoever. He had never touched, licked, or sucked a girl, EVER.
WTF!? I was utterly baffled because he seemed to know what he was doing, and I had no awkwardness in trying to teach him how to do this or that. I never been with a virgin before, but he was going past my expectations of him. I told him I was skeptical, and he got a bit annoyed with me. The look on his eyes were of hurt, as if I did something wrong. Eya, maybe I shouldn't have asked, but still, how the fuck would he know what to do? Then I remembered, porn, duh. Fucking PORN.

To be continued..