Chicken Soup for the Slutty Soul

I'm a 30-year-old woman, and I lost my virginity bit ago --March of 2023 when I was 28.

It's not like I was saving myself for marriage or anyone special. Honestly, the opportunity just never really came up. No big, dramatic reason--just life, I guess.

I ended up losing it to my friend's brother. We were kind of seeing each other at the time. I never told him I was a virgin, and to this day, I don't think he knows. After we had sex, we stopped talking just a few days later, and nothing ever happened between us again.

A few months later, I got bored and decided to make a Tinder account. At first, I was genuinely looking for a relationship. I even lined up a few dates, but every single guy bailed. So much talk, but no follow-through.

That's when I said, fuck it. 2024 was going to be my year.

I have two incredibly supportive friends who've been with me through every step of this sexual journey. In January (2024), I had my first casual hookup--and since then, things have taken off. I've been with 12 guys this year alone, taking my total from 1 to 13. And number 14 is already on the calendar.

What I've discovered? I have a crazy high sex drive. I can go for hours. I stay soaking wet. I can go multiple rounds a day and still want more.

And yet... not a single man has made me cum.

Chapter 1

I'm a 30-year-old woman, and this story is about the very first guy I matched with on Tinder in January 2024. He was 29--not overly tall, a little on the chunky side, but I didn't mind that at all. He was slightly below average in size, but honestly, he had a really aesthetically pleasing cock.

Soon after matching, we planned our first hookup. Neither of us had a place, so our best option? Our trucks. Luckily, we both drive pickups, so we had space to work with.

We agreed to meet halfway in a small village-town. It was winter, so it got dark early--perfect for some parking-lot privacy. We ended up in the lot at the local baseball diamond. The whole thing was super awkward from the start. We shuffled into the back seat, started making out, kind of fumbled with each other's clothes... mostly undressing ourselves.

After a bit of touching and teasing, he got on top of me and started fucking me in missionary. And then--he came. Fast. Like, really fast.

He did try to finger me for a few minutes after, awkwardly and earnestly, but after about five minutes, he said his hand and wrist were tired... and just gave up. I tried to initiate more by kissing him again, thinking maybe we could go another round, but then he asked if I could take him back to his truck. So we got dressed, and that was it.

A few days later, he unmatched me on Tinder. I remember thinking, "Great. I must be bad at sex." After all, it was only my second time ever.

But apparently not--because two weeks later, we hooked up again.

Same location. Same setup. But this time... it was literally a quickie. It took longer to drive there than it did for him to finish. It was a total wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. I didn't get much out of it, physically, but I'll admit: it still felt kinda good just having a hard cock inside me. There's something about that stretch and fullness, even if it doesn't last long.

Fast forward nine months--Labour Day weekend--and we hooked up again. Yep, same small-town rendezvous. But this time it was daytime, and we had to drive around looking for a semi-private spot. While I drove, he was feeling up my tits (I wasn't wearing a bra), and when he pulled one out and started playing with my nipple rings, I was getting so turned on.

We ended up parked in a field entrance off a gravel road. But by then, I had slept with eight other men since our last time--and let me tell you, it showed. I had experienced different sizes, rhythms, positions... things that make sex feel good.

This guy? Not the same as I remembered. He came quickly again--almost before we had even really gotten started. And just like that... it was over. Time to get dressed.

We still randomly talk from time to time, but I know I won't sleep with him again. At this point, I've learned what my body likes--and I know it's not going to get any better with him.