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Metro
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Metro
After a bad breakup two years ago, my boyfriend and I are trying again
Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger. This week we hear from Olivia*, a 33-year-old marketing manager in London, who has sex about four times a week. She's back with her ex, Patrick*, who she split up with two years ago. The pair hadn't spoken since, until a chance meeting brought them back together. 'We split because we didn't properly communicate and ended up having resentment towards each other,' Olivia says. 'I was struggling with my mental health which I now know is premenstrual dysphoric disorder, and I put a lot of pressure on him to be there for me.' After bumping into each other on the overground, Patrick texted Olivia later that evening and suggested dinner. They met up the very next day and decided to give their relationship another go. 'The last thing I want is a situationship with my ex, so we had a big discussion about what we want from each other and how to make it work this time around,' she adds. While they're in they're back in the honeymoon phase, it hasn't been without some minor hiccups — but they know that, this time, they want to be together for good. Without further ado, here's how Olivia got on this week… The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work . Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! I spent the night at Patrick's yesterday. We start off the day with a lie in and wake up for morning sex. I've accidentally bled a bit, so we strip the sheets and pop them in the wash. I notice an old blood stain on his mattress – which definitely wasn't there the last time we dated. For a second I get an icky feeling in my stomach thinking of him with another girl… and then remember we were broken up for two years, and force myself to quickly move on. I know that Patrick noticed me notice the blood stain and was about to say something about it when I changed the topic. We both (usually) work from home so I set up at his dining table and he works from his desk. I'm in the middle of a Zoom meeting when Patrick crawls under the dining table and starts to go down on me – we used to do this all the time, and I'm quickly reminded of why I loved it so much. Thankfully I've done all the talking I need to do so I'm muted. I'm trying my best to not let it show on my face, but have to quickly turn off my camera. We end up having a quickie on the couch and I jump back on my Zoom call to say goodbye to everyone, pretending as if I haven't just come while they brainstormed the next campaign. I have a late start to the work day since my boss is in Brazil and Patrick's clients are in town, which means he has a full night of schmoozing ahead of him. When we wake up, we haven't even spoken a word to each other when I feel Patrick's hand on my thigh. We make the most of our altered work day with a few rounds of sex and an hour of pillow talk. We say how much we've missed one another, laugh about inside jokes from when we were first together, and catch up with what we've missed out on when we were broken up. We're both going to therapy now and feel like we're in a better place where we can show up for each other, as well as ourselves. The sex is great, but the emotional intimacy is what I've missed most about our relationship. I feel smitten all over again. I wake up in a great mood today. Work has been going great and waking up to Patrick every day wasn't on my bingo card this year – it's been a wonderful surprise. We're planning an upcoming campaign shoot in Amsterdam which means I get to be creative and deal with the little logistics – I credit the Virgo in me for genuinely getting excited about this. I follow Patrick into the shower and dare I say it – it may have been the best sex we've ever had. He turns me around and pushes me up against the wall. I usually hate his mirrored shower, but this time I can't stop watching him while he f**ks me. I'm not usually one for shower sex (is anyone really?) but this time around feels different. I could definitely get used to this. I go into the office today and am quickly sent home after two panic attacks. I'm PMSing this week and I realise that I haven't kept up with my antidepressants, a rookie mistake that I've unfortunately made more times than I would have liked. I call Patrick when I leave the office and he tells me to go back to his. My mental health had been a bit of a sensitive topic the last time we were together, so I'm glad he's being supportive this time around. With my PMDD I went through extreme highs and lows, which was confusing for us both. And during my low points, I couldn't regulate my emotions – I'd often just burst into tears out of nowhere or lash out. Patrick didn't know how to be there for me, and I didn't know what I needed. It was frustrating for both of us to go through the same issue every month. He's on a call when I get back to his so I take my antidepressant, grab the dog, and head to bed for a midday nap. I'm feeling like myself again when I wake up so I put in a few hours of work and then give Patrick a blowjob as my way of saying thank you. I order in some Chinese for us, and we're quickly rolling around in bed – Patrick is going down on me and I'm just about to finish – before we are interrupted by the Deliveroo driver. At this point I couldn't care less about the food. I just want to finish off what we started, but this time I'll have to wait. I've now spent every day this week at Patrick's place and, aside from taking the dog for a walk, have barely left the flat. We've spent the past five evenings catching up, ordering in and having the most incredible sex ever. Today I'm woken up with a massage and a new set of matching lingerie – which doesn't stay on for very long. He gets a dozen roses delivered to me at lunch time and makes us dinner reservations at a fancy restaurant in Shoreditch… Happy birthday. We go back to his after dinner and our clothes are off before we even make it to the bedroom. He leads me to the bed and I jump on top of him. I can tell he's going to finish right away so he flips me over and go into doggy. It's a perfect day until we head to bed at 1am and he gets a phone call from another woman while I'm getting unready. I obviously try my best to eavesdrop, but I remind myself not to jump to conclusions. 'I can't talk right now.' I'm trying my best not to let my triggers get the best of me. Before I can finish brushing my teeth, Patrick runs to the bathroom to tell me it was his old neighbour – he hasn't spoken to her in years and has no idea why she's calling. I have trust issues from past relationships and try my best not to let it trigger me. Patrick has never given me a reason to doubt him, but after so much time apart, I'm not sure who this woman is or if they've ever had a relationship. He tells me they barely know one another and shows me their texts – the last time they spoke was a few years ago. I'm not really sure what to believe or what to say and I am definitely not in the mood to talk about it. Regardless of the reason behind her call, my birthday is officially ruined. Patrick shows me the text he's sent to his neighbour. He tells her he has a girlfriend and that her calling is uncalled for, even though they've never been intimate with each other. He asks her to please stop contacting him. I'm glad he's sent this message but there's still a lot to discuss. I realise now might be the perfect time to address everything we never got around to when we decided to get back together. Communication was never our strong suit, so even though this was not the way I wanted to wake up the morning after my birthday, I'm thankful we're actually communicating and not falling into old habits. We have makeup sex and I feel good about our conversation. He reassures me there's nothing to be worried about. He's not seeing anyone else and hasn't been dating for the past few months. We both tell each other how happy the other makes us and promise to have grown up conversations this time around, so we can avoid the same arguments we had before. It's finally time for me to go home. I meet a friend for dinner and a late-night screening at the cinema. I feel quite proud of myself for saving my pennies by sneaking in a few drinks, until the couple next to me whips out a container of hot popcorn they've brought from home – now that's impressive. Patrick and I go for a Sunday Roast and a long walk around Victoria Park before we head back to his to watch a movie. For once we actually get through the film without jumping on one another. More Trending This is the first time we've been together without having sex. I don't like that this has happened after our fight the other night, but I'm trying not to overthink. He pulls me closer and grabs my hand – without saying anything he's given me all the reassurance that I need, and I know I've made the right choice. View More » My friends and family can tell how happy I am with Patrick back in my life. He's also been putting in much more effort and properly getting to know them, which definitely helps. I know it's early days, but it feels different this time. Do you have a story to share? Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@ MORE: These are the most common reasons couples divorce after years together MORE: I thought I'd been punched – but three strangers had stabbed me MORE: Stormzy's 'girlfriend' speaks out about relationship for the first time
Metro
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
I watch my four partners have sex — it's more satisfying than my own orgasm
Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger. This week we hear from Kitty Osman, a 30-year-old erotic writer living in London. Bisexual Kitty is polyamorous, and in a committed relationships with four people — right now, she isn't interested in adding anyone else to the mix. 'I knew I was poly at 25, but I'd been showing signs for much longer,' Kitty says. 'I'd have crushes and fantasise about having relationships with other people while dating someone. I also enjoyed people flirting with my partners.' But having four partners isn't always easy, as Kitty struggles with making sure all their needs are met consistently. She's also open to the idea of a 'nesting partner' (a poly partner she would live with), but is happy being independent. While she has sex twice a week, Kitty actually prefers to watch her other partners get intimate instead. 'I'm a giver and a voyeur,' she says. 'I really love watching people have sex, masturbate or orgasm in front of me. The viewing is half of the enjoyment for me, so if there's a chance I can get a better view instead of getting worked over myself, I'll go for that.' Without further ado, here's how Kitty got on this week… The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work . Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! I make sure to message and catch up with my long-distance partners, Sam and Alicia, who have been in a relationship for 15 years, through our group chat. I met Sam at a work conference and went on to flirt with him at the next party we were both at, where I ended up taking him home. He then set up a date with us and his girlfriend, Alicia. I began seeing them together when I took Sam's threesome virginity about nine months ago. They're in York and I'm in London, so we can only meet every other month or so, which means communication is key. I enjoy voyeurism and cuckoldry, so it suits my kinks to sit back and watch them in person or over a screen. Today we speak about a spanking Alicia had taken at the weekend, and they show me photos of her red backside. It's arousing and shocking. I tell them I miss them terribly and say my goodbyes, before taking out my favourite toy, a sparkle covered vibrator with veiny protrusions. I think about how much I love worshipping Alicia's body in person, especially after Sam has had his way with her, while I use my vibrator with as much pressure as I can. I used to love going to the London sex dungeon, Studio Sevvven. It's closed down, but to celebrate the time they were open, they've asked people to submit written excerpts about their experiences there. I remember my favourite memory, when a woman ran up to me and said: 'You like to watch, right? I like to be seen.' She took off her dress immediately, and soon her friend came over and got undressed as well, as they giggled to each other. My whole body felt aflame, I was so embarrassed to as I felt they were seeing me concretely as a 'pervert' – a voyeur. But as the shame boiled in the pit of my stomach, it made me wet. They asked if I wanted to watch them have sex, so they corralled a third girl into our group and sat me in a large chair dressed up like a throne in the corner. They got the clothes off their new friend and strapped her down over a spanking bench, long ways, so she could be spit-roasted by the two of them wearing two strap-ons. Watching it was beautiful and it was so overwhelming, I didn't even think to take my own clothes off. I spend the day at work excited because it's officially one month since Cici first called me her girlfriend. We met on a dating app late last year and despite our first date being filled with personal trip-falls, like turning up late and bleeding through my dress on my period, we got on like a house on fire. I want to celebrate that today so I send her a playlist filled with songs that remind me of her and our relationship. She'd given me one on my birthday and it was amazing getting such a personal present! Cici messages to tell me that it's made her well-up on the train while she listened to it, which makes me feel like a wonderful girlfriend. As one of my two London-based partners I see her usually once or twice a week and I tell her I can't wait to see her. I feel a bit stir crazy trapped at my home desk today, but my long-term partner Jasmine, who's non-binary, is keeping me sane. We've been seeing each other for over two years now after meeting on a dating app, and we live close to each other. We message throughout the day and meet when we're both shattered from work and want to blow off some steam together. It's a luxury given that we're both so busy in the evenings. I want to say these aren't booty calls because we're actually dating, but they do feel that way. Jasmine really needs to work something out tonight and is being grabby while I get undressed. Jasmine pinches the fatty parts of my belly and legs in a sharp way that makes my stomach warm and sometimes they'll run their nails along me in scratches. Jasmine likes to be rough which always makes me feel desired. They talk about my body in a crude way and bite along my neck and breasts, marking me with bruises that I'll be able to press into tomorrow while I'm masturbating about this. While it's rough sex, I communicate my boundaries with Jasmine – and withall my partners very early on – so we all know where we stand. First I ride Jasmine and they slap at my thighs and ass while I do. Each thrust is amazing and they flash me a cheeky grin that makes me laugh and kiss them. When they turn me onto my knees and get behind me I feel even fuller than before. I'm getting louder, loud enough I worry about my neighbours. Cici's nesting partner (the partner she lives with) is a research professor and spends a lot of time away on trip,so I go over to hers tonight. She's feeling a little ill so I want to pamper her. After an hour or two watching a horror series we both love, I take her to bed. I have her show me her favourite vibrator. I place it on her with enough room for me to go down on her at the same time. She likes a lot of power for such a small lady and my nose goes numb from the vibrations hitting it by the end of our session, but it's lovely. I love that she's vocal too because it always makes me feel like I'm doing something right. She comes, and we lay in each other's arms until we both get too hot and we roll apart. Cici takes me to see a play to celebrate my birthday which was earlier this month. It was my first birthday with all my partners and I'd felt so spoilt getting gifts and love from everyone at once – shoes, sweet treats, art, books. She comes to meet me just after getting a new haircut which looks gorgeous on her, and we go thrifting and buy some dirty comics to read later. The show she's got us tickets for is Count Dykula, a campy experimental cabaret-style musical that I instantly fall in love with. Cici makes me laugh by comparing me to the chesty antagonist and we both get hot under the collar seeing the gunshow Count Dykula has going on beneath their leather jacket. We end the night early, going to our opposite sides of London, but not before making everyone around us sick with all our kissing and cuddling in an old boozer by the theatre. Jasmine wants to introduce me to their newest partner Lucy, and we all agree to meet at a local sex party we enjoy. Lucy brings a platonic friend Rachel, who also enjoys the scene. These parties aren't the free-for-all orgies some people might think, but there's a chance we might get on, and I might ask politely if I can watch them 'get it on'. Jasmine is a huge exhibitionist! But instead the meeting ends in a foursome with Jasmine, Lucy, Rachel and I. We all agree to go into a playspace together and discuss likes. Jasmine wants to finish on someone, and Rachel wants to be dominated. More Trending She reaches for a pink flogger, and asks if I'd like to use it on her. I tell her I'd love to, but first I want her to ride my face. Then I flog both of them, scratching and biting them for a little variety in the pain as well. I finish off Rachel first, while Jasmine has sex with Lucy. Then I turn to make out with Lucy while Jasmine has sex with Rachel. Watching them move so passionately always gets me excited. View More » It's the perfect way to introduce new friends and we all agree to meet again in the future for more fun. Do you have a story to share? Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@ MORE: Swipe right? Under 40s are more open to dating Reform voters than Tories MORE: I 'floodlit' my boyfriend the first day we met – I have no regrets MORE: I'm happily married, but I can't stop having phone sex with my old school friend
Metro
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
I have sex with my girlfriend four times a day — but I still feel insecure
Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger. This week we hear from Connor*, a writer in London who used to be hyper independent as a single guy. But this all changed a few months ago when he met his now-girlfriend. 'We're super committed, whereas before, you'd struggle to get me to commit to anything,' he tells Metro. 'I couldn't be happier.' However, despite being over the moon with his new relationship, enjoying the throes of passion, love and connection (sometimes four times a day), Connor is silently struggling with his own emotions. 'There's something else I haven't felt before in a relationship. Self-doubt,' he adds. 'It's not as if I've got crippling performance anxiety but at the start of the relationship, I was definitely aware I really wanted to 'be the best' in a way I hadn't before.' Without further ado, here's how Connor got on this week… The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work . We wake up with sex, as has become our daily morning routine. I'd always hated morning sex – someone's hands touching me just as I shake off sleep in a fuzzy grump? No thanks. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! But that's all changed since we've met. We did it once, and now it feels like there's something missing when we don't. Her hand crawls across my leg to check I'm hard, then she turns on her side and faces away from me. It's gentle at first before my hands eventually grasp her hair tight, pulling her neck backwards as if every thrust can be felt through her whole body. In the grogginess of the morning, neither of us are able to finish. We arrived in New Orleans late last night to celebrate Mardi Gras, staying with her aunt and uncle, so jetlag and family close by mean she's worried we're too noisy and taking too long. I joke that she'd complain if we didn't take long enough . We reluctantly get up and head downstairs before going straight to the nearest Mardi Gras parade, where her aunt and uncle are taking part. I didn't think that catching 'throws' all day – usually plastic beads – would be quite as entertaining as it was. The whole city was there and even grumpy old me was fully involved. We collapse that night into bed without the energy to do anything but sleep. Today's Mardi Gras. Our 7am alarm isn't given chance to sound, as her overzealous aunt wakes us at 6.30am. A tornado of costume-fitting, pack-lunch making and general stress kill any opportunity for us to have sex. At home, we have sex three or four times a day since we work from home. It's a hugely significant part of our communication with one another. But after a long-haul flight and two days of this schedule, the disconnect is apparent. We return from the festivities at 2pm; drunk, exhausted and horny. Falling into bed for a supposed nap, I begin to fumble with her underwear. Her eyes tell me to kiss her, that she wants sex, but hearing her aunt and uncle audibly disagree about our plans for the evening turns her right off. It's the afternoon by the time we get chance to spend any time alone. After our run, she showers while I wait to go next. As she leaves the en-suite, we cross paths, and my hand glides across her damp stomach. She tells me she loves it when I'm sweaty. A niggling thought crosses my mind. Her overt sexuality is something I adore, but I also wonder if a bit of sweat is all she needs to get going? I guess it comes from my lack of self-worth. If my sweat has that effect on her, so must everybody else's. At times my worries bubble up into conversation, it's something I'm ashamed of. She tells me she feels the same, but what matters is that I'm in front of her now. I agree but I still feel that insecurity deep down. I carry her to the bed. She wants it hard, fast and quiet. Her aunt hearing us is worrying her. She pushes me to come, and I ask 'what about you?' but she's convinced she won't be able to. After the sexually muted recent days, I take the opportunity on offer. She bares her chest, and I unload. Over lunch we speak about our pasts. We're both getting used to our new life together, where we spend as much time in bed together as possible. Although I trust she's never felt the way she does before, it's natural to make comparisons, and I can't help wonder if it's the same in the bedroom. I know it shouldn't matter, but I hope this is all as new to her as it is to me. I can see and feel how fulfilled she is, though it's not until she's drunk that's she's particularly verbal about things that'd make me feel more secure. Still, I worry that my need for reassurance somehow diminishes her opinion of me, which stops me ever asking direct questions about it. Most the time, we have sex hard and rough. There's a trust and a safety in our intimacy which allows me to dominate, and allows us both to explore pain within sex. We're fulfilling fantasies we never thought possible, but my insecurities linger. Even though I'd always wanted this, I never felt it was an option with anyone else, that it would feel forced and fake somehow. She tells me it's the exact same for her. A day to ourselves, finally. There's one thing on our minds. We start the day with something gentle, on our side with me behind. I hold her leg in the air and pick up the pace until she orgasms and I follow suit. There's something about her body – the flexibility, her clear connection with her physical being and her devotion to working out – that adds something to the sex. Something intangible. She's convinced her fitness regime helps her connect with her body during sex. It certainly helps me. With the house empty we're able to have sex like usual. At our second attempt she's as loud as she wants. We explore one another with our usual tenacity and passion. She bites my lip, inadvertently drawing blood, and in return I hold her face into the pillow until I finish, but that only makes her finish quicker. There have been times where we've both wondered about the appropriateness of our sex. I think it's what brings us closer. Our communication is so constant, so empathetic, there's just a total safety there. We set a safe word once, and so unnecessary was it, we've both completely forgotten what it was. We go to a nighttime local parade, Krewe of Oak. Her aunt introduces me to a couple, Johnny and Chad – then, as is often the case, a gay man takes a shine to me, bringing me a NOS balloon to welcome me to the parade. He doesn't give one to my girlfriend and her ego takes a hit, but most of all she's worried that I see jealousy or insecurity in her. We're not dissimilar on that front. I'm not naturally a jealous person, and I don't think she is either. But we're adjusting to each other and what our relationship looks like. There's something scary about being staunchly independent then suddenly depending on someone. Right now, I'm very aware of how much I've got to lose. A huge costuming event, Mom's Ball, is upon us. A warehouse party for the weird, wacky and wonderful of New Orleans (of which there's many). Johnny from last night brought some ecstasy which I take with my girlfriend and her family. I know it's illegal, but the party vibe and the thought of sharing that experience with her make it hard to resist. The event is a bit of a disappointment though, so we leave and sit on a bench as we come up, watching the incredible costumes go by. There's plenty of nudity on show and there's one too many people here for seedier purposes. NOLA'S quirky culture attracts a few bad eggs. We soon go home, underwhelmed by it all. More Trending The recent lack of sex combines with the ecstasy and we forget our surroundings. With her legs folded behind my shoulders and her pelvis lifted off the bed, we can fully consume one another – all the worries the previous days have held are gone. The euphoria we feel has another side-effect, a psychic empathy seems to answer our respective insecurities and we're both overwhelmingly vocal in our love and disbelief at having found one another. It continues for hours, the beads of sweat dripping on one another go ignored. For once, I wake up with a grin. So does she. We embrace, with no words needed that something about last night that brought us closer together. I pull her close as I look to relive it. View More » Her aunt shouts up; breakfast is ready, we've got a parade to get to, and her uncle's already sat in the car waiting. One more week left. Do you have a story to share? Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@ MORE: Many hide cash from their partner — but secret savings are actually a good thing MORE: Map reveals the UK cities who have the longest-lasting sex sessions MORE: Why getting married could have more financial benefits than you think
Metro
13-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
The four real reasons there are so many virgins in 2025
The zeitgeist is abuzz with an upexpected topic this week: virginity. Channel 4's Virgin Island – a controversial reality programme that sees 20-somethings gear up to lose their V-card via sex surrogates – includes a claim that there are more adult virgins than ever before. One in eight people aged 26 in the UK haven't had sex, according to a UCL study of 16,000 people, and just 1% of Brits lose their virginity aged 23 to 26. The young men and women on the show are yet to have any form of sex from outercourse to intercourse, and aren't content with being virgins – claiming they feel there's something wrong with them. Take drama graduate Tom, 23, who says: 'If I can lose my virginity that's one less thing for people to ridicule me over.' The show has been slammed for being 'exploitative' and 'creepy', but it's brought the topic of virginity to the forefront, and it's not just TV where virgins are talking about their experiences. Metro's latest How I Do It diarist, Hannah, 23, shared she's keen to lose her virginity by the end of the year. 'It's like seeing something really popular in the shops that I really want and know all my friends have, but for some reason I'm not allowed it,' she explained. Of course, some simply don't have the desire to have sex or choose to save themselves for that special someone. But why else is virginity on the rise? We've got the juicy details… Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! Wherever you look, sex or interactions that lead to sex, are in abundance from dating apps to porn. Katie Callaghan, kink and sexuality-affirming psychotherapist, tells Metro: 'There's so much choice that people are having surface level interactions which aren't translating into real emotional connection or chemistry. 'Dating apps have gamified sex and intimacy, making it much harder to build trust and connection.' Ghosting culture also doesn't help, she adds, because we're never going to have that reassurance that we're going to have our needs met in that relationship, emotionally and physically. There's also pressure to be literate on dating apps and market yourself to potential sexual and romantic partners – something Katie says a lot of people struggle with. 'Clients who come to me don't feel like they have the tools to build a profile that makes them seem interesting to people online, and find it overwhelming,' she says. As a result we end up in an online purgatory, never quite making it to that point of physical connection. Unrealistic beauty standards and online personas leave us susceptible to feelings of not being enough, and where there's little confidence, a sexless life is more probable. 'Everyone has to be so attractive; so wealthy; so cool; or have something good to say – and a lot of people don't feel like they fit into that,' Katie explains. 'So they feel quite rejected and isolated, insecure and more excluded than they've ever felt.' Fast-food worker and Virgin Island participant, Emma, 23, says: 'When you see a lot of celebrities on Instagram they're so perfect, comparing to people online means I struggle with my self-esteem.' She was even called the DUFF by her 'friends' growing up, which refers to the 'designated ugly fat friend'. To counter this, Virgin Island experts make participants wear a uniform, so they focus on their feelings rather than their self image. Katie adds that this pressure to conform is something she's noticed driving people into incel culture or involuntary celibacy. 'They don't have the emotional literacy or confidence and security to go into the world of sex,' she explains. For those who struggle to speak this social language, they then feel like 'I'm not going to bother' and then feel like they don't have a way into sex. On the flip side, some are choosing not to engage in sex, particularly in the wake of Donald Trump's comeback, which sparked a western revival of the 4B movement – a radical 'femcel' ideology where women refuse to date, have sex with or marry men to eliminate risks to themselves. Initially a Korean cocept born from generations of inequality and violence, American women were inspired after Trump's administration once again ascended to the White House. Once you feel disconnected from other people's experiences and people make fun of you, or are surprised when you haven't had sex, you can easily get stuck in a cycle. How I Do It diarist Hannah confessed she was a virgin to a group of friends, and recalled their reactions. She wrote: They're all doing a terrible job of hiding their obvious questions. What do you mean, never had sex? Like ever? She can't be serious? Never had sex, isn't she 23? 'I can't stand the fake optimism that follows when they say 'good for you for waiting for the perfect guy' or 'hang in there'. I'm definitely not waiting for the perfect guy and I've been 'hanging in there' for years.' This creates a fear of socialising and forming deep connections, according to therapist Katie. 'If you're a 30-year-old man, you're going to be afraid to socialise with others in the pub because the topic of sex and relationships is going to come up,' she says. 'So people withdraw from it altogether and isolate themselves.' For those who are virgins and want to have sex, it's no wonder it feels impossible at times. More Trending But Katie says there are ways to empower yourself to be ready to take that step. 'Get really good at solo pleasure, prioritise it,' she says. 'Get to know your body, exactly what you like, exactly what you don't like, the pace, the place, the touch, the setting, how long it takes you to warm up, so that your sexual language is really clear. 'This makes it much easier to translate it into a situation with someone else, which takes out an element of the unknown.' View More » With a lot of misinformation from our peers and porn, and a lack of comprehensive sex education, Katie also suggests subscribing to certified sex educators online where you can educate yourself. Do you have a story to share? Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@ MORE: Cannes' new dress policy is yet another way of policing women's nipples MORE: The one big difference in how men and women like sex to be initiated MORE: The one phrase that will make your doctor realise there's something seriously wrong
Metro
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
I'm on a mission to lose my virginity by the end of the year
Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger. This week we hear from 23-year-old Hannah* who works as a waitress in a West End theatre in London. She's never had a relationship and has never had sex, so she's set herself a challenge to lose her virginity by the end of 2025. 'I'd like my sex life to at least exist,' Hannah says. 'It's currently as dry and empty as a desert. It's like seeing something really popular in the shops that I really want and know all my friends have, but for some reason I'm not allowed it. 'I've struggled watching my friends get into relationships and start to have sex, but I always felt too nervous to try anything.' Despite not having partnered sex, Hannah explored masturbation for the first time this year, using a sex toy, which she says made her feel 'sexy.' 'It also made me appreciate the hype around sex and why everyone is so obsessed with it, now I want it even more,' she adds. Without further ado, here's how Hannah* got on this week… The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work . 'Never have I ever had sex…' I don't know what came over me. But as I look around the Wetherspoons table. mid-way through the iconic drinking game, I see a mix of friends, co-workers and girls I don't know very well, clutching their alcohol in shock. They're all doing a terrible job of hiding their obvious questions. What do you mean, never had sex? Like ever? She can't be serious? Never had sex, isn't she 23? '…outside,' I finish. 'Never have I ever had sex outside.' This technically isn't a lie, I've never had sex outside, but my friends don't need to know that I've never had sex inside either. Minor details. 'What was your first time like?' a tipsy co-worker asks. Damn. Luckily, I'm an expert at telling this lie. I say it was a one-night stand with a guy I met in a bar. I shrug nonchalantly, hoping that they don't ask for any more details. I'd hate to tell a story that vaguely resembles a plotline I once saw on Grey's Anatomy. 'Where is the craziest place you've had sex?' someone else asks. I hate these questions. 'In a garden.' I answer too quickly. I look down at my drink and silently pray they don't realise I'm referring to that spicy Bridgerton episode. I can't help but feel slightly sad as the rest of the game continues. I lie about my virginity because of the questions that follow. I also can't stand the fake optimism that follows when they say 'good for you for waiting for the perfect guy' or 'hang in there'. I'm definitely not waiting for the perfect guy and I've been 'hanging in there' for years. I wake up to a Hinge notification pinging on my phone. I check it. It's from the guy I'm seeing this evening for drinks. I read five words. 'Can't tonight. Busy. Another time.' As someone who hasn't gone further than kissing, it's comforting to know chivalry is still alive and well in 2025. I text back, saying it's fine and we should arrange another time. In reality, I'm certain I won't hear from him again. I'm not exactly upset, or even annoyed, more frustrated. After texting this guy for a few weeks, I was fairly confident he'd be keen to fool around with me. A good guy to ease into sex with, maybe start with a hand job, and move on to oral sex? I'm not fussy. I swipe a little on Hinge and browse Tinder. I know it seems slightly pathetic to not only lie about my sex life but also swipe endlessly on dating sites, looking for guys who would want to have sex with me. However, after I told my best friend that my new year resolution was to lose my virginity, her reaction was 'damn you must masturbate a lot.' I realised I need to focus, and get it over with. I just want to be able to understand what my friends are talking about when discussing sex, and I'm curious to know what it's like – I feel ready. 'I'm just saying, if you were gay, I would be okay with that. So would Mum and Dad,' my older sister Katie says as I lie on her bed. I smile and assure her that if ever I thought I could be gay, I would talk to her first, but at the moment, no one seems to find me attractive, no matter the gender. 'Maybe it has something to do with your huge boobs. They could be intimidating to guys,' she remarks jokingly. I've always fallen into the curvy category, it's something I've made my peace with, but it's always difficult when I'm next to Katie, who effortlessly rocks a size eight dress size. I'll never forget my first time in Victoria's Secret at age 13, where I was told my boobs were too big, and I needed to go to a specialist shop. That was a great way to scar a teenager in front of her skinny friends. As I walk home, my mind spins with questions. Could my body be really that unappealing to guys? Can I get a reduction? How easy is it to start taking Ozempic? Like most, I think obsessively about my body shape. I convince myself that my body is preventing me from having sex, because it's the only reason I can think of. I know I'm shy but I feel like I have loads of shy friends who have lost their virginity – the difference is they're skinny. I must be the problem. I read my Kindle on the bus to work. I'm a sucker for those trashy American romcoms that on the outside seem sweet and romantic, but have an outrageous amount of sexual content inside. I'm about to get to the part where the enemies are finally becoming lovers and the heat turns up. My face flushes a bright red and I look around guiltily. I enjoy reading books like these, especially in public, it feels like my dirty little secret. I've never had a boyfriend to send dirty photos to, so this is the only sexy secret I'm allowed. I'm shocked by the intense detail this book provides. I read about every muscle movement, bead of sweat and intimate gasp that goes on between these two character. I have no idea how accurate it is. Surely the author must have based this on her own experiences. I'm not totally ignorant, so I understand this is essentially pornography and decide that I shouldn't use it as a reference point to the real deal. My bus pulls up to my stop, I look around one final time, wondering what people would think if they could hear the crazy thoughts roaming around my head. After a long day, I'm having dinner with my mum and a couple of her friends. They talk about her co-worker's daughter who has recently found her first relationship at age 19. Everyone is so happy for her, the words 'at last' and 'finally' are thrown around a couple of times. I don't try to hide my annoyance, and slight humiliation. My mum then pointedly mentions another friend's daughter who has recently come out as gay, looking at me, she remarks how happy and accepting everyone is. I roll my eyes slightly and think back to my conversation with Katie a few days ago. Clearly, they have been in cahoots with each other discussing my love life, or rather lack thereof. It's nice to know they care, but I wish they would find someone else to obsess over. I long for the day when my inexperience in the dating world stops becoming dinnertime conversation. The evening comes and I watch Bridgerton in bed and try to imagine myself as Daphne. I like the thought of having men fight over my attention. Closing my eyes, I picture myself getting frisky with Simon in the library, but I begin to feel awkward and tired and I don't get very far. Eventually my imagination is overtaken by sleep. 'Me and my boyfriend have sex like four to five times a week.' My co-worker says casually. I try to hide my surprised face with my coffee mug. She can have sex five times a week yet I can't even get a Hinge date. The world doesn't seem fair. I pay close attention as she lists not only the crazy places, but also all those positions! I'm not totally sure what the Shoulder Holder position is and how she once did it in a swimming pool. Did she hold her breath? Were there inflatables involved? Surely someone must have caught them? I'm also oddly impressed and slightly intimidated by the idea that she can have orgasms five times a week. She once had an orgasm at the gym in the missionary position, apparently. I ignore this fear and convince myself that once I find a guy, I can figure out how everything works and it will be okay. At a work party I get chatting to Zack. I've seen him around the theatre but haven't spoken to him before and after a few drinks, we're making out. It's been well over two years since I last kissed a guy so I'm taking this as major progress. Both of us are tipsy, and I'm struggling to think clearly. He pulls away and whispers in my ear, asking me to come home with him. I know what this means, and the internal panic bells start ringing. I'm wearing contact lenses and didn't bring my glasses, what if a contact lens falls out while we're having sex? What if we go back to his house, and he changes his mind? I'm not on any birth control, what if the condom breaks? What does a condom even feel like? More Trending These fears take over and I lose focus on the guy in front of me. He's looking at me like a crazy person. I try to kiss him again, hoping he'll temporarily forget about this request. I'm more drunk than I realise and we aggressively bang foreheads. It looks like an awkward scene out of a bad sitcom. The moment has gone, and I scurry off to find my friends, feeling embarrassed. I obsess over him for the rest of the evening, whereas he doesn't glance in my direction. If only I wasn't so awkward and nervous, I could be having sex right now. View More » I leave the pub with my friends, drunk and still a virgin. Do you have a story to share? 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