IT HAPPENED TO ME: I Taught My Christian Roommate About The Birds & The Bees And She Got Addicted To Masturbation

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Publish date:
September 29, 2015
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vibrators, IHTM, conservatism, birds and the bees

College is the time to experiment, right? Well, not if you go to a conservative Christian college.

I was shocked when my roommate, Annie, started asking me very basic questions about the birds and the bees. I could tell that she was curious about sex, but was too embarrassed to ask certain questions. In particular, she didn’t quite understand the mechanics of how to orally pleasure a guy.

So, I did what any good friend would do. I bought two lollipops and gave Annie a blowjob 101 class.

Conservative Christian propaganda covered every inch of our school. I passed three banners labeled Ring By Spring on the walk to my dorm room every day. The banners had a surprising number of signatures on it from girls in the dorm who were engaged that spring.

I rolled my eyes at the banner every time I passed it because it was a well-known fact that the divorce rate was higher than the national average at this school.

The way I saw it, by teaching my roommate about sex, I was helping her explore her sexual curiosity and hopefully preventing her from marrying the first guy that she dates. I wanted to give her an option b to all the marriage propaganda that were being shoved down our throats on a daily basis.

Annie sat uncomfortably on her floral patterned comforter, holding the long, spiraling lollypop that I bought just for this occasion. I sat cross-legged in front of her, patiently answering all the questions that she had before beginning the "class."

“Does sex really feel that good? I heard that it can hurt and be boring.”

“You heard that from people who don’t do it right.”

“How do you even start? Like, how do people even start making out? I don’t know how to jump to that point.”

“If you want, you can be aggressive and make the first move. But, when the time is right, you can make the guy comfortable enough to make the first move on you by just being comfortable yourself. Confidence can go a long way.”

Annie looked at the lollipop doubtfully. “So, do I need to use my tongue a lot while I do this? Or is it more about suction? And I have a bad gag reflex, so maybe I just won’t do this to a guy?”

I convinced Annie to at least try some techniques on the lollipop and see how she felt about it before condemning her future, non-existent boyfriend to a blowjobless relationship. And she enjoyed the class once she understood the dynamics and started asking more questions with increased enthusiasm when she realized that I wasn’t going to judge her for her general lack of knowledge on the topic.

I learned that Annie came from a very strict, conservative family and rarely watched TV growing up. It didn’t help that all her friends at her extremely small private high school graduated virgins too.

I answered what I thought were all of Annie’s questions until she asked just one more. “What exactly does an orgasm feel like? My friend said it feels a lot like when you drive over a bump in the road really fast.”

I looked up at my self-conscious roommate, unsure how to answer. I pondered the question for a moment and told Annie that it felt like an explosion of pleasure, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to conceptualize what that meant. So, I decided the next day to go to an adult novelty store and buy her a small, discreet vibrator.

While Annie was in class, I left the vibrator on her bed with a note that said:

Please don’t use while you’re roommate is in the room. Enjoy!

The next day, I saw the toy stuffed under Annie’s pillow. When I asked her how she liked her new toy, she told me that it was her “most favorite thing in the whole world.” I patted myself on the back for doing a good deed and congratulated myself for being Annie’s personal “Dr. Drew."

It was a month later, however, that I saw the error of my ways. I thought Annie may have just had a lot of studying to do when I noticed that she was only leaving the room to attend class and eat.

Soon, Annie’s general appearance and hygiene began to visibly decline. When school first began, Annie was dressed to the nines with her hair and makeup perfectly done whenever she went to class. Now, her hair was constantly wet (I had a sneaking suspicion that she was masturbating in the shower) and she never wore makeup anymore.

Clearly, there was a problem and I had no idea how to talk to her about it.

After three months, our room began to stink. The school was so conservative that we weren’t allowed to shut our door in the dorm when guys were in our room. I began to fear that our Nazi hall monitors would notice that our room stunk like sex and write us up or make us report to the dean.

I even heard a rumor that one girl who was accused of being a lesbian had to write a note about why she wasn’t a lesbian and submit it to the dean in order to remain at the school. Would I have to write a note saying that I wasn’t having intercourse even though our room reeked of sex? Of course, just like the lesbian’s letter, my note would be a total and utter lie.

I decided it was time to address the issue with Annie. I wanted to broach the issue as delicately as I could, so I asked Annie to go out to dinner with me. I even bought her ice cream on our way home to soften the blow. As we walked back to our dorm, I asked Annie how she enjoyed the toy.

“It’s fine,” she replied rigidly.

“Oh, OK. I was thinking, you know God doesn’t really like masturbation, right? So, maybe we should just throw the toy out? I feel like it was wrong of me to give it to you in the first place.”

I did it. I played the God card. Because I was gutless and couldn’t tell her that the room stank like rotten fish and that she looked like a mess.

“Are you kidding me? Everything about you is about sex. Look at the way you are eating your ice cream. It looks like you are giving head to your ice cream cone! I’m embarrassed to walk around with you while you eat that.” Annie threw her cone on the ground and ran back to the room.

That didn’t go quite as well as I expected.

When I walked into our room, she handed me the toy back. Trying not to look absolutely mortified, I looked down at the heavily banged up vibrator in my hand. I immediately tossed the toy in the trash and told Annie that it was okay, that sometimes you can just have too much of a good thing.

Annie gradually began going out more and within a week was back to her daily makeup routine. But, our relationship was never the same.

The rest of the year we only communicated through DM, even when we were both sitting in the same room. The next year, Annie and I both got new roommates and we never saw each other again. I would like to think she’s in a healthy relationship now, exploring the joys of her sexuality.

But, there’s a good chance she may have lost all control and is working a strip club somewhere. Either way, I wish her well.