So…. the other day my significant other and I had THAT conversation. You know the one – “How many people have you slept with before me?” This conversation always fills me with dread, as I’m sure it does most women out there!!! Let’s be honest about this ladies; we aren’t virgins anymore. Far from it. We have had as many sexual experiences as men, if not more these days. We are open about our sexualities, openly admit to our girlfriends, (some of us) about our adventures – good or otherwise, and quite frankly, have a damned good time! I don’t think my number defines me as a person. I’m not the same person that I was when I wracked up the bulk of my number. These days I am far more dignified about it…. or so I hope.
My best friend, who happens to be a man that I have never had a sexual escapade with despite coming pretty close on more than one occasion, has often tried to help me figure out my number because I, quite frankly, never kept count, nor cared to. In fact, most of my sexual escapades I would rather just forget. The problem is, in this day and age, it would seem that my number was more important and said more about me than me, myself. If the number is too high, I am a whore. If my number is too low, I’m a frigid bitch. Is there a right number for a girl of my age? What’s yours?
In order for me to figure out whether my number was too high, I decided to compile a list. This is what my list consists of so far, and if I’m totally honest with myself, I know there are more than a few that I have forgotten about: (This list is not in order – I couldn’t think about it that logically!)
- The first boyfriend – broke his “banjo string”, blood everywhere, horrifying. We dated for almost a year and he never took my underwear off when we slept together… weird, huh?
- The policeman that was pretty blah in bed. I suggested using his handcuffs; he decided to tell me about the scum he had contained within his handcuffs… not sexy!
- The guy I had a foursome with in a garden shed at the age of 18. Me, my boyfriend at the time, my girlfriend from school, and her boyfriend. After this random and incredibly drunken “shed” night, me and her boyfriend hooked up a couple times. They are still together and expecting a baby, (so Facebook tells me) and me and the guy I was dating carried on for 2 years, and occasionally sleep together every now and again when we are both drunk enough and not necessarily single. He had the biggest cock I had ever seen – another story for another day.
- The boyfriend I was dating as mentioned in number 3, AKA massive cock!
- The guy from high school that used to bully me. We later hooked up after another drunken night out. This night involved drinking Baileys out of his belly button in a single bed at my Dad’s house, if I remember rightly. I always had a soft spot for him; he used to make me laugh. It was only a one night thing though… he wasn’t that great.
- Another guy from school that I had a major crush on as I grew up. We met in a bar, he was off his face on drugs, I was mashed on every alcoholic drink I could lay my hands on – back to his for a night of noisy and great sex, after he had shown me his “mixing” skills on a set of decks, and some rather loud jungle music that I’m sure his parents were pissed off about.
- The husband. Goes without saying really. Amazing sex. The best sex of my life. Apparently, I was the only girl that could make him climax via a BJ. It made me feel like a Queen. I later realised this is a line spun by many men in a feeble attempt to get head.
- The husbands best man. Oh yes, I went there! I broke up with the husband, moved back home for two weeks and met up with the best man that was, at the time, drunk and dressed as Superwoman. I started my period that night; there was blood everywhere. It was horrifying and he has been trying to finish that night ever since, hahaha!
- The prison warden. Random threesome with hubby, ended up sleeping together again years later. This is definitely a story for another day – the threesome started with a random joke about football socks, and ended up with him blurting his load all over my back.
- The supervisor. Coke addict, self harmer, low self esteem meets battered wife with confidence issues and a need for mindless sex. He fell in love, I left the husband and moved on.
- The fake Italian. Italian name, beautiful tan, covered in tattoos, smooth demeanor. I was crying because I was leaving the husband; he soothed my tears away with a gram of coke and a good f***ing!
- The asshole. I had a bad time with the hubby, got mashed and slept with the asshole. Let me just tell you that my marriage was horrific; something I will talk about another time. Please don’t judge me. This guy threatened to tell everyone if I didn’t sleep with him again; he made a vague Facebook post about me and everything. Not enough for everyone to realise it was me, but scared the hell out of me anyway. Funny story – met the guy in my home town years before this in a bar, we almost slept together but didn’t; he was the spitting image of man number 4 – that’s why I wanted him. Years later, after I got married, I bumped into him in another country, and that’s when we slept together.
- The bus driver. Now I’m not even sure if we slept together but stuff definitely happened. He was the bus driver for an agency where I was working in a warehouse. All of the warehouse lot went out drinking, me and the bus driver included, and we all ended up back at mine for an after party. Bearing in mind I was 18, he was 40-something, and everyone else was in between, we played spin the bottle and ended up in bed. He had stripy briefs on – BRIEFS!!! His tongue was like a washing machine, and he actually put his entire tongue in my ear! IN MY EAR!!! The morning after was awful, I couldn’t get rid of him and had to rely on the male best friend, whom I lived with at the time, to remove him from my apartment.
- The postman. This was a mild flirtation that had been going on since I was first dating man number 4. He was engaged and I didn’t know this when we finally got together. They split up, we dated, and he turned into an asshole. He started ignoring phone calls and not turning up at mine when we had made plans. I turned into a bunny boiler that hid his passport so he couldn’t go on a lad’s holiday. He shouldn’t have left it at mine, really! *Evil grin!*
- The lapdog. This guy has been going on for years. We dated years ago, it didn’t work. He was younger, most definitely more into me than I was into him, and we have been sleeping together on and off for around 7 years. I love him. He loves me. We just don’t work in a relationship. He thinks we do, he gets too full on and I freak out. We stopped sleeping together around the same time I got with my current man, but we can’t be around each other without stuff happening, hence why I am trying to stay away from him. The sex is amazing. OH MY GOD amazing! Another story for sure!
- Drunk army guy. I came home with more money than I went out with that night, which I’m assuming is not a good thing. We spent the entire night together drinking and he walked me back to mine. We f***ed on a wall around the corner from my house, I got off then jumped off, leaving him most unsatisfied.
- The guy with the tiny penis. He is now an actor I believe. Tiny!
- Another guy with a tiny penis that had just gotten out of prison. By tiny, I mean smaller than number 17 – smaller than my pinkie finger. As you can imagine, I definitely faked it.
- The bad memory. He was the best friend of a guy I was dating at the time. He was awful – he smelled bad, he didn’t brush his teeth, my boyfriend cheated on me, and I got my revenge. Gross. Possibly the worst night of my life.
- The boyfriend I was actually dating when I cheated with the above guy. Scratched my back, tied me up, and blindfolded me, and that was just our first f***! He blew my mind. I revisited this a few years later and it was most disappointing!
- The “oh my god” guy. Slept with a couple of times, horrible in bed, tried to deny it ever since. When he came, his leg twitched and he shouted “oh my god” over and over again until it freaked me out. Very bizarre.
- The guy with the monobrow. It was last orders at the bar, he showed me attention, I took him home. He was horrible, left a hickey on my neck the size of Texas, and called me 36 times in 2 hours the next day. No joke. It looked like I had been strangled. He was a virgin and he fell in love with me that night. It took a lot of ignoring phone calls to get rid of him.
- The guy that is the craziest, best sex EVER! He made me ropes, fisted me, showed me how to squirt, has his cock pierced a whole bunch of times, and rocks my world. He works away a lot, we never found the right time to get together properly. I love him too but all of our experiences are based on bad timing. We sleep together regularly – whenever we are in the same country at the same time, regardless of whether we are in a relationship or not.
- The older guy. I was 18, he was 35. He was adorable and oh so much fun! His beautiful motorbike was awesome too.
- The “take me to the woods” guy. He literally took me to the woods and screwed me. It was kind of hot. His girlfriend found out.
- The neighbours husband. I actually sound like a whore now.
- The guy with the big ears. I actually considered leaving the hubby for this guy. He was hot, hench, and covered in tattoos. This, again, will be another story.
- The married guy. I was young and stupid. He was old and “leaving his wife”. It never happened, obviously, and secretly, I think he broke my heart.
- My last serious boyfriend. I can’t say a lot about this guy right now because my heart is still actually breaking. This guy rocked my world in every way, and I miss him with every ounce of my soul. I actually think this guy was “The One”, despite all of the things that ripped us apart. I’m a little teary right now.
- The drunk guy after the bar that I can’t remember.
- The guy my girlfriend set me up with so she could screw his mate.
- The fireman on the other side of the world that was sooo awkward, I couldn’t wait to get out. There is nothing attractive about a man walking towards you, silk boxer shorts at his ankles, waddling with a condom attached. I did it twice though….
- The guy that was such a dousche, I don’t even want to talk about it yet. First guy after my last heartbreak. He was kind of cute, lost his hardon halfway through our drunken night, and turned out to be a total douschebag.
- The guy i’m with now.
So far, i’m at 34. There are so many more than this, I have been adding names to my list on an almost daily basis. As is the bestie, bless him. I would also just like to point out that this doesn’t include the women. Again, please don’t judge me. I’m young and carefree, and trying everything that life has to experience.
So… what is your number? My bestie and I believe that mine will end up being in the mid 40’s, once we have finalized my list. Is this bad for a mid 20’s girl? When you spread them out over the years since I lost my virginity, (13) it’s really not so bad, right? How important do you think this number is? And do you think it is important to talk about it with your significant other? Personally, I would rather not know how many girls, (or boys) my guys have slept with. It has nothing to do with me; it was before me, hopefully!
I think perhaps, the one reason why I don’t want to divulge my number to whoever I’m sleeping with at the time is because I am a little ashamed, and this just angers me. I don’t want to be ashamed of the things I have done in my past – I believe they have made me the person I am right now. I also think they have lead me to be better in bed, just because I have learned how to do it, should the guy prove to be useless, which is the case more often than not. I don’t know about your number, neither do I care, in the nicest possible way. I have had some good times and some bad times and although there are nights I would much rather forget, I wouldn’t change anything for the world. Whore or not, I’m proud! 🙂
Little add on – I forgot a guy!
35. The hip high school kid with the perfect smile, and floppy hair. Shy, timid, yet cocky little shit that won me over with his beautiful smile. It was only a one or two time thing, I can’t remember. It was bad. It wasn’t memorable either.
Another update! I forgot another guy:
36. He was the hot high school kid. We got drunk, fucked a bit, and I threw up on him after one too many Red Aftershock shots! He now lives on the other side of the world and is seriously HOT! So glad I did that!
And another one I need to add:
37. One Ball! He’s the divorced guy with three kids; the one that I wouldn’t normally be into, with a glorious cock and a great sense of humour!
So now I’m on 37 guys. It’s still less than 40, and THAT I can deal with!
FOR AN UP TO DATE VERSION OF THIS, PLEASE SEE: What’s Your Number? Updated…
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