When Was Your Real First Time?
A while ago, I wrote a post about how we define “sex,” with an emphasis on the notion that “counting” partners did not have any real purpose. At that time, I hadn’t yet finished the book. Now I have and I’ve read Hanne Blank’s essay, The Process-Oriented Virgin. In it, she says she was at first resistant to young women who toss out “objective” or generally accepted definitions of virginity and simply construct their own based on their subjective experience. And she writes that she has come, years and many stories later, to embrace the power of that subjectivity:
What they were depending on, on the other hand, was revealingly modern and female-centric. . . . [A] lot of the process-oriented virgins I talked to are working with criteria that closely mirror the goals of twentieth-century feminist sex reform. The sex that counts, for these young women, is sex in which they are involved and invested. For some, that means the first time they instigated sex because they really desired it. For some it means the first time they had an orgasm during sex with a partner. For some it means the first time they felt fully emotionally invested and present during sex. Indeed, it might even mean simply that it was the first time that they felt like they genuinely knew what they were doing. Sex “counted” the first time it felt like sex that was good for women, not just for men.
Color me flabbergasted — again. The thought that these revisionist historians of their own sex lives are radically redefining virginity on the basis of a bottom line that is fundamentally derived from feminist sex-reform philosophy was a stunner.
YMY at p. 293.
I’m even more convinced, after reading Blank’s essay, of the power of defining one’s own experiences — something men often take for granted and women are so often denied.
With that in mind, I’ll throw a question out there. What was your first time? Not what other people say, not what “counts” by anyone else’s definition; but your own.
To put my money where my mouth is, I’ll start; but I’ve been thinking about my answer since I woke up this morning and I’m not entirely sure of it. Certainly it was not the first time I had PIV intercourse, which didn’t seem like a milestone to me. It was with a long-time FWB, we were not good for each other, and it was physically pleasant but I think emotionally distant for me and probably alienating for her. Besides, by that time I’d been in an MFF and a MMF threesome and identified as a kinkster; I hadn’t had PIV intercourse mostly because I was busy doing other things. What makes the most sense to me is the first time I gave a partner an orgasm. It felt like what adult sex feels like for me. I wasn’t in love, certainly, but I wasn’t using her and she wasn’t a conquest. I cared about her; I wanted to be sexual with her in large part because I wanted to be intimate with her, I cared how she reacted to my touch and I wanted her to come because she would enjoy it. I’m not saying that sex must be about or defined by intimacy; just that that connection, whether the context is romantic or more situational, is much of what I look for in sex, and that’s the first time I found it. So there we are.