Technical Virgin Novels & Stories

He keeps his eyes fixed on my slender figure and plumpy b**bs as he takes off his shirt and trouser. He slowly kneels between my legs, my entire body shivers in anticipation, my spines are cold as ice, my lips part, releasing heavy breaths. He leans in and holds his weight up with his hands on either sides of my head, his heavy c**k dangles on my p**sy as he looks into my eyes for a long moment. Then I whisper to him. “I'm a virgin,” my voice is barely audible. “I know you are,” he responded. “We are made for each other, no one can possibly have what's mine.”

Right towards his and my father’s gym. “You’re going the wrong way.” “You want to act like a slut, then I’ll treat you like one.” “I’m not a slut.” I mutter under my breath. I’d never been with anyone. He scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.” “I’m a virgin. How can I be a slut when I’ve never been fucked by a man. That’s why I came to you a few days ago. I want it to be you. It has to be you.” Vance swerves to the side of the road and slams on the brakes. “Repeat the part where you say you’re a virgin. I must be hearing things.”

"Have you?” "Ahhhh...Mmmmm...Sir, ahhh, sssshhhhit!" Trisha felt her insides being tickled by an invisible hand. Tingles ran down from her scalp to the tip of her curling toes. The service girl is now in a moaning mess, but part of her job is to answer his every beck and call, so she tried to hold her grip and answered: “You're the second after my asshole of a boyfriend took my virginity a few months ago,” she doesn't know how she managed to answer him properly with all the lust clouding her mind.

He studied me seriously, watching my eyes for a moment before he replied. "Are...are you a virgin, Leslie?" I bit my lip, thankful he couldn't see the surfacing red hue appearing on my face "Well, I-techincally it's...yes." He stared at me in shock. Making me feel uncomfortable. "Can you not stare at me like that-" "-no, no it's just that...I would never expect you to be one." I sighed. "Do you still want to do this? I don't want you to do anything you're not ready for or-"

I knew her too well — the more annoyed I got, the more she’d push. “Maya, babe, you seriously need to live a little,” she continued. “Look at you. You’re twenty-seven, drop-dead gorgeous with a body that could make men beg… and you’re still a virgin? You’re letting that tight little pussy go to waste, girl. I’m telling you, those fictional men in your spicy books can’t eat you out, finger you, or fuck you the way a real guy can.” My face burned crimson. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

Her phone screen glowed as she scrolled through T****k with the unhurried focus of someone who had nowhere else to be. Damien stared at the ceiling. The previous night replayed in fragments: the abaya falling, the lace, the way she had climbed into his lap and asked him to stop waiting. He had taken everything she offered and given everything back. The sex had been intense, unrestrained, better than the careful versions they had shared before the long separation. Yet the physical truth sat uneasily beside an older claim. She had told him, early and repeatedly, that she was a virgin—that the waiting until marriage was not only religious and familial but literal. The body he had moved inside l

She closed the door, locked it and stepped into the room. “I’m done pretending,” she said. He stood slowly. “This is a bad idea.” She walked to him, stopped inches away and tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “Then stop me.” He didn’t move, she reached up, placed her palms on his bare chest, felt the heat, the hard beat of his heart. He exhaled sharply. “You’re a virgin,” he said. “I know.” “You’re nineteen.” “I know.” “You’re my client.” “Not tonight.”

He pressed his lips softly to the place he had just struck, soothing the heat with his mouth, and I shuddered from the top of my spine to the back of my knees. He straightened and gathered spit deliberately and let it fall directly onto my entrance, watching it settle. Then I felt something small and careful pressing against my hole. His pinky finger. Barely the tip. Just the narrowest point of entry, pressing with patient, steady pressure against the virgin muscle that had never once been touched from the outside let alone the inside. My breath stopped. The pressure increased. Slow. Controlled. My body resisted automatically, clenching against the intrusion, and Tavian’s free hand pressed f

I told him. “What?” “Rita, you don't really have to bring this up” Finn whispered. “Finn, I'm worried. I am in pains” I said. “Please feel free, go ahead. What's your complaint?” Dr Chris said, supportively. I exhaled heavily. “I am still a virgin because I can't have sex, not even a finger could penetrate into me. I feel this sharp pain” I blurted out freely, not minding that the doctor I was complaining too was a man.

I kept quiet as he held right hand in his. Every bit of me shivered. His hand felt cold yet quite fun to touch. I had already began to feel ‘that way’ though all he did was rub my fingers softly. I hated that I was easily aroused, I mean, what did that say about me? Just two hands touching and I was so close to exhaling stupidly. I guess it was the ‘virgin syndrome'. “Look, George, I'm not one to rush into anything.” “I'm not asking you to.”