How to Have Sex With a Virgin

How to Have Sex With a Virgin

Copyright Notice: by Sergiu Somesan. All rights reserved.

The above information forms this copyright notice:

© 2025 by Sergiu Somesan.

All rights reserved.

ADULT CONTENT – 18+ READERS ONLY!

„This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.”

Sometimes you don’t even know who’s who when a guy meets a girl. And it’s even harder to tell because the guy is a grown man and the girl is only 18. I’m sure everyone involved in this relationship will blame me, so I’d better start at the beginning.

I was living with my wife in a two-bedroom apartment in a small four-story apartment building, we didn’t have children, and that was perhaps for the best. I say it was better because one day my wife, now ex-wife, announced to me dryly that she had found her great love and was moving with him to Australia and would be baptized into his faith. He was a Pentecostal minister, so I wished him a most enjoyable baptism ceremony and may the Lord count the kangaroos until the end of days.

Anyway, I felt a certain chill in our relations, but I put it down to the fact that I was very busy with work, and because of that I didn’t have time to walk her around the country and take her out. Maybe it was that, but maybe there were other things that added up over time. I was left alone in my apartment with a rich library and Mondays off. She complained that there was no point in having Mondays off because nowhere she wanted to go was open anyway. And we don’t get paid much either.

But let’s leave my ex-wife with her kangaroos and get on to the main topic which is Emma. On the same floor with me lived a family who had a little girl named Emma. A little beauty who grew up practically before my eyes. Not infrequently, when her parents wanted to see a show, they’d leave her in my care, and I’d welcome her into the apartment, show her my collection of photos and books, and let her read quietly.

Sometimes I’d catch her big blue eyes looking at me over the book, and as she grew older, these glances became more frequent. I didn’t know how to interpret them, but I was surprised by her hostile reaction when we had the occasional fling, because I didn’t even want to hear about marriage.

It amused me when at about 17 we met on the landing, me with the girl I’d picked up in a bar and Emma who had just gone out to take out the trash. She gave him such a fierce look that I thought for a moment she was going to throw the trash bucket at his head, but she restrained herself and stormed down the stairs, because we lived on the second floor.

The following Monday she knocked on the door, we had a doorbell, but she liked to announce her arrival with a knock on the door as a way of personalizing her arrival.

She had a stack of books in her hand which she handed to me as she came in and said

“I’d like to borrow some more, but something more romantic this time”.

My ex-wife had several whole shelves of such books with lovers embracing wildly on the cover, locked in almost explicit sex. Because I considered Emma still a child, I preferred for years not to recommend such books to her, and even discreetly urged her not to read them.

This time, glad that she had rescinded her ban, she picked out a stack of about five books and, showing me one of them, smiling, said

“I think I’d better hide them from my mother!”

On the cover, a man and a woman, half-naked, were leaning against a table, clearly having sex from the ecstasy that could be read on their faces. I was a little puzzled and didn’t know what to say to him, and I was even considering whether I had done the right thing in lending him such books, when suddenly, in a stern tone, he said suddenly

“I don’t like the last girl you brought home! I don’t like it at all, and it doesn’t suit you.”

To be honest, I didn’t expect to be taken so seriously, and then I think I made my first mistake, because I said:

“To tell you the truth, Emma dear, I’d love to find a girl as beautiful as you, but it seems you’re the only one, because no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find you”.

She blushed, bit her lips and for a moment I thought she was going to throw herself into my arms. The moment passed, she put her books in a bag and went off to read the erotic adventures of the protagonists on the book covers. And I made a point of paying very close attention to the words and compliments I addressed to her, because she seemed very sensitive to them.

Just the day before her 18th birthday, she came to my door again, knocked, and after I let her into the apartment, she asked me directly:

“How do I look?