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Sex suspended, celibacy supreme

Victoria's Secrets

By Victoria Gehman
On April 16, 2010

   I have made it an entire year without having sex.

   This extended bout of celibacy was an easy task, until a few months ago when boys started streaming into my life out of nowhere.

   I hadn't been kissed for months, but all of a sudden guys were knocking on my door day and night. I'm not complaining, but once my one-year anniversary was in sight, I made a vow to reach the end — which was not going to be easy with this new rash of temptations.

   I didn't initially plan to go so long without doing the deed, but after my last sexual experience, I was completely turned off.

   Last April, I was visiting some friends at a party in Virginia, when I slept with Winston, a guy I liked. Afterward, my best friend Alicia climbed into our bed and said she was "tired."

   Twenty minutes later, I heard Winston and Alicia going at it right next to me while I was supposed to be asleep.

   "Don't worry," she whispered. "I've had plenty of sleep-overs with Tori. She won't wake up."

   I returned to New York feeling used and completely disgusted.

   It took me months to get over my wretched experience with Winston, but when I finally did, temptation was lurking around every corner.

   The first guy was Greg. I met him at Bomber's on Lark Street. He told me he was a sex addict and had slept with more than one hundred women.

   We exchanged numbers and a couple of kisses, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to get involved with a sex addict.

   The next day, Greg sexted me a few pictures of his package. When I opened the file the image was unlike anything I'd ever seen.

   "No wonder he's a sex addict!" I thought.

   It was so big it had to be fake. 

   Greg started sending me erotic messages, pleading with me to let him come over.

   "I know once you see it up close you'll be down for anything," he said.

   I didn't let Greg come over, but I agreed to meet him out for a drink. After a couple of Corona Lights, he convinced me to make out in his car.

   "Do you want to see it?" he groaned in my ear.

   Before I could respond, he whipped it out. 

   It was real, and a bit overwhelming.

   Unfortunately for Greg, I was determined to make my goal, so we kissed for a while and I went home. It was the last time I heard from him.

   My next temptation was Jason. I met him at Hollywood Café on Lark Street. I sat down at the bar, ordered a beer, and waited for some friends to arrive.

   After a few sips, Jason started up a conversation by commenting on his drink, saying cranberry and vodka was the best in the world. I liked him from the start.

   He was 25, good looking, had a real job and wrote a blog critiquing films.

   I was surprised to be meeting someone so seemingly normal at a bar, but I went with it. We exchanged numbers, and I sent him a quick text after he left: "It was so nice to meet you, Jason! Hope to hear from you soon."

   On our first date, Jason and I went roller skating. Afterward, we went to my place to have drinks.

   The sexual tension was building between us all night. As soon as we sat down on my bed, his tongue was in my mouth. He ripped off all my clothes in seconds. I hadn't been so turned on in months, and nearly broke my vow.

   Somehow, in the heat of our passionate makeout-fest, I managed to resist.

   I'm sure he was disappointed, but I had to contain my desires for at least another  month.

   With only two weeks left, I met my final temptation. Kyle strutted into class late as always, and sat down next to me. I hadn't paid him much attention until now.

   For the next three hours, I kept glancing over at him, wondering if he wanted me. I was excited when he found me on Facebook, and we made plans to hang out soon.

   Kyle and I spent Friday night texting, trying to figure out something to do. He finally called me at two in the morning, as I was leaving a bar with some friends.

   "Come over," he said.

   "Where do you live?" I asked.

     He told me, and my friend dropped me off at his house. I was drunk, and so was he. I sat down on his bed and wondered what he could possibly be thinking.

   "Is that a tongue ring?" he asked as he sat down next to me. "Let me see that thing, what color is it?" He leaned in close and kissed me. It was more sweet than sexual.

   "I like him," I thought. Things heated up quickly. He was kissing my neck, and I was dying to have sex. I decided to tell him about my current vow of celibacy, and surprisingly, he understood.

   We fell asleep at 4 a.m. I woke up a few hours later, and decided to walk home.

   Kyle kissed me goodbye, and I hoped I would see him again. My high heels were killing me, so I walked barefoot down Washington Avenue. With my shoes in hand, my hair a total disaster, and most likely a huge hickey on my neck, I thought about what I had learned from this experience.

   I may write about sex, and appear to have this erotic, lust-filled sex life, but in reality I am holding out for the right person. Yes, I have random hookups with guys, and intense sexual fantasies about men, but in the back of my mind I am always hoping it could turn out to be something more.

  Going an entire year without sex has taught me that I don't have to settle for a guy who will roll over and screw my best friend.

   If I continue waiting, I will eventually meet someone who will appreciate being with me.

   In the meantime, I'll continue my scandalous, sexual escapades, while hoping someday to find Mr. Right.

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