In the aftermath of losing my virginity, to judge by external appearances, nothing had changed. I was still the same quiet, studious young man. I was still active in my Lutheran fellowship. My interactions with women were still chaste and respectful.
In a fundamental sense, though, everything had changed. It was as if that first moment of penetration had effected an ontological transformation. No longer a virgin, I had violated values I thought were essential to my character. My pledge to remain pure had been broken in the most dramatic way. If purity had defined my religious experience, my sin made me question the authenticity of my faith. Having succumbed to temptation, my will to resist future temptations was severely compromised. Once I had sinned, it was easier to sin again. There was no return to purity.
A couple of months after my first encounter with an escort, I called the service again and hired another one. This one was a short, busty blonde who arrived at my hotel room in a miniskirt and chunky heels and carefully examined the $50 dollar bills that made up my “donation.” She was quiet, so there wasn’t much conversation between us. She suggested that we “get comfortable” and undressed, revealing some butterfly tattoos and big, luscious of tits. We moved our naked bodies to the bed, where I caressed her body until she cried out:
“You’re dripping!”
My precum had dribbled onto her body. Embarrassed, I apologized effusively. She wrapped a condom around my member. I got on top of her and, after she guided me inside her, vigorously thrust until I came.
As she dressed, she told me, “You’re a very nice man.”
Six weeks later I hired another call girl from the agency. This time I selected an older lady, a fortysomething brunette. She asked me why I had hired an escort, so I proceeded to tell her that I was curious about sex, which, upon entering the ministry, would be reserved for a future wife.
“It’s not normal not to have sex!” she admonished me as she pulled a condom out of her bra.
I felt myself blushing. She was gentle with me. Having confessed that I was only a few weeks removed from losing my virginity, she confessed to being a little nervous. “So that’s why you wanted an older woman!” she exclaimed, saying it reminded her of a scene out of a romance novel. She kissed me softly as she slowly pulled off my clothes. She put my right hand on her waist, and my left hand on her breast. From there my lust took over. I passionately kissed her back, letting a moan escape from my lips as I pressed my erection against her. She got on top, rocking her hips and grinding into me, screwing me slowly in the hotel room’s dim light.
Upon departing, she kissed me on the cheek and wished me well.
Lutheran Guilt 