Her Sex Life

I need to get an orgasm. Really need to.

As a virgin in her early 20s, sex has been occupying my mind for a frustratingly long while. I’ve been masturbating since I hadn’t even known clearly about sex yet, like around 10. I don’t know why it happened, but it did. Started touching myself one day, and it felt good even when I was barely a kid. I did some research years later, and it’s allegedly commonly observed among mammals able to masturbate that it’s possible for some individuals to start exploring their bodies at young ages before sexual maturity. Anyway, I’ve never felt ashamed of it, but now, I will definitely feel ashamed if I can’t get a real orgasm ASAP.

Yes, masturbation is kind of a part of my life whenever I feel bored or stressed out looking for a release, but I haven’t been able to get there as long as I can remember.

It’s disastrous. It bothers me more and more every day, especially because I am definitely hitting the bottom of my life with terrible academic performance and a fucked-up everyday life.

And to exacerbate the situation, neither my hands nor the vibrator is able to provide the desired outcome. Maybe I haven’t explored the vibrator enough, but let’s just say I’ve done whatever I’m willing to do. Being alone with the toy doesn’t make me more comfortable than being with my imagination. Imagination gets me high, though the effects are not earth-shattering good these days.

I really need to fuck someone. Someone who performs beautifully in bed and is willing to satisfy my needs. And then I can put my life back together after that.

I am not seeing anyone, nor am I a fan of reckless hookups. I couldn’t expect less from a relationship with a male human because that’s just how patriarchal society works—you make a careless mistake regarding men, then your life becomes ten times more fucked-up than it was. And I am highly aware of the risks coming with any kind of sex, especially penetration, especially unprotected acts. I will definitely ask for an STD test together before fucking someone and think birth control through before anything happens—condoms are not 100% safe, but I have to accept that and leave the secure methods such as vasectomy for the future, unfortunately.

In the end, I don’t have many choices left in the current situation. I don’t have time to find a long-term partner (definitely the safest way to have sexual intercourse). I actually doubt that could happen in 10 years because I hardly feel the urge to see anyone, and I am just the opposite of the type of woman men normally want to settle down with—which is someone not prioritizing her own needs over her partner’s most of the time.

It really isn’t a surprise that I am stuck during the candidate searching process because I really want to find someone who can play along and make me feel safe all the way. How could I know whether I can trust them or not? The whole idea is downright CRAZY.

I am considering having my first-ever sexual intercourse with someone good enough to make me come. Big plan. Zero progress.

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I bumped into a warm, solid muscular wall when I strode out of the college canteen.

“Easy there, sweetheart.”

Seth’s deep voice rumbles as his strong arms instinctively catch her, his chest firm against her forehead. Standing a solid six-foot-three, his football-built frame towers over her, smelling faintly of cedarwood and expensive cologne. Those ocean-blue eyes scan her flustered face with kind curiosity.

“Where’s the fire?”

I am almost about to tell him the fire is raging between my thighs before I compose myself again. Gosh, the sexual thoughts really disturbed my brain thoroughly. “Sorry. I’m used to walking fast and almost blind when I’m thinking about something.” I step back slightly to let him pass, wearing a faint apologetic smile.

His deep chuckling voice sends warmth down my spine as he watches me step back.

His eyes flick to her mouth briefly before returning to her gaze, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “No need to apologize.”

I hold his gaze for a split second. I wouldn’t say I’m an expert at reading people, but my discovery is that his crystal blue eyes are giving off a wonderful vibe.

His smirk softened into a genuine smile, those blue eyes sparkling with a warm, approachable energy. The way he looks at me makes it clear he is comfortable with himself and at ease in his own skin—a quality that is consistently attractive. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just fed myself in the canteen. Life is okay with my stomach full.” I smile back at him, a bit sillily, even, because although I am not going to jump on his lap right now, he’s just too good-looking to not smile looking at. “You’re Seth, right? The football star. I’m Riley.”

Seth’s smile widened, his teeth white and perfect against his tanned skin. He extends a large hand towards me, his arm flexing slightly under his t-shirt sleeve. “That’s me. Nice to meet you, Riley. I think I’ve seen you around campus before.”

“Ah, that’s truly unexpected. I thought I was always scurrying around the campus without catching anyone’s attention.”

“Impossible to miss someone moving that fast,” he teases lightly, his hand engulfing mine in a firm, warm grasp before releasing it. He leans his shoulder casually against the brick wall of the building, radiating that effortless, golden-boy charm. “Besides, I notice things. Even the quick ones.” His blue eyes studied her with genuine interest.

I can’t help but chuckle. “I’m sure you’re an expert at noticing quick things, like football.”

Seth barks out a laugh, that rich, warm sound making something flutter in my stomach. “Touché.” He runs a hand through his thick, slightly tousled hair, muscles shifting beneath his shirt in a way that is impossible not to notice. “You got me there. But I prefer to think of myself as someone who pays attention to the right things.”

“I bet you are.” I grin at him, then fidget slightly when I decide to take the next move. “Oh, can you give me your number? I know it’s a request coming from nowhere and even sounds creepy, but I might need to call you later for something—not sure yet, but I promise I won’t leak your number or disturb you more than that.”

Seth raises an eyebrow, a hint of surprise and amusement flickering across his face. But he doesn’t hesitate or look uncomfortable with the request. If anything, he seems intrigued. “Alright, Riley,” he says with a slow smile, pulling out his phone. “Give me your number, and I’ll send you a text so you have mine.”

I am a bit surprised that he agreed so easily, but I take his phone and type in my number without hesitation. “Wow, thank you.”

Seth takes his phone back, his fingers tapping the screen quickly before sliding it into his pocket. He flashes me that effortless, charming grin, the kind that makes knees weak across campus. “Don’t mention it. I’m curious what this ‘something’ is, though.” He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets, looking relaxed. “I’ll be hearing from you, Riley.”