The Reflections Of A Virgin On Sex free porn video

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I’ve often sat and wondered what sex is like. I am a virgin in just about every technical sense. All I’ve ever done is kiss. And not even kissed enough for any real practice. It’s not that I’m asexual. I really like erotic literature, and I’ve even had thoughts of writing some of my own. But how can one write about something one has never done? All I really have to go on is my imagination and what I’ve seen in pornography. My intellect tells me that neither of those have much basis in reality. And so I’ve sat here for many long moments wondering what the experience of sex is really like.

What does it feels like? Hot. Sublime. I imagine the friction between their flesh and mine, so drastically different than when I am alone. So much more wondrous and profound. So much more to see and experience. What does it feel like to have another person deep in the heart of you? To look up into their eyes, watch their face, feel their breath even while you feel them inside you. Do they feel what I feel? Am I truly doing these things, wanting these things?

What does it smell like? Musk. Heavy. I imagine our scents would mingle in the air around us. Entwining as we have entwined. Joining as we have joined. Creating a single scent, as we were a single being for a time.

What does it taste like? Salty. Unique. I imagine what sampling your skin would be like, learning you with my tongue as I have with my hands. Seeking out the very essence of you.

What does real sex sound like? Fast. Low. Surely not like the theatric screams, moans, and grunts of pornography. I imagine the panting, the sounds in the back of our throats, the urge to shout and cry. Or quiet, hushed, muffled exclamations bitten into a pillow.

Do they see what I see? Am I as flushed and sweaty as they are? What is it like to have sex with another person? To see them, touch them, feel them. To have them see you, touch you, and feel you in return. Reading erotic literature, watching pornography, masturbating, and fantasizing cannot possibly equal the real experience. How can words be used to describe the sensations of sex? If I am so excited alone, then wouldn’t being with another person be that much more thrilling?

Imagining how it feels to jump from a plane isn’t the same as skydiving. Reading about seeing a ghost isn’t the same as actually being confronted with one. And so I haven’t ever written any of my fantasies down to share with the world. I suppose the world will just have to patiently wait until I lose my virginity. Hopefully my naïve ideals won’t be disappointed by the real thing, instead given new life and new desires that can be expressed and shared.

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After tea on the Friday evening Thelma stopped me as I was going into upstairs to my room. Her eyes looked wild and her breathing was heavy. “I’m going to a party,” She said in a low voice, “do you want to watch me getting undressed?” I nodded like a puppet. “Wait in my room…I’ll be up in five minutes.” I skipped up the stairs two at a time! I nervously let myself into my sister’s bedroom. I’d been in many times before – borrowing her dirty knickers and stuff to use...

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