Brian is an ordinary Penn State freshman; he likes to spend his weekends partying wherever the celebration happens to pop up. This particular Saturday night, Brian is dancing in a packed crowd in front of a live band at a fraternity. He spots a girl he likes and decides to meet her.

They talk for maybe 20 minutes before deciding to leave the fraternity, making their way back to his dorm room. Understanding each others' hormonal desires, they have sex and proceed to fall asleep. She leaves the next morning, neither of them knowing much about the other, besides a first name.

A storybook fable? A parent-to-child horror story? How about a first hand experience? Having been a spectator for most of the above-mentioned incident for the first time several weekends ago, I am finally compelled to express, in print, my stance against pre-marital sex. To state it bluntly: Pre-marital sex is wrong. I am a virgin by choice, not by consequence, and I intend to be abstinent until married.

Now don't get offended -- I'm not degrading those who participate in pre-marital sex, or those who have done it in the past. Nor am I putting myself on a moral pedestal -- I'm merely shunning the act itself. Christianity (and other religions, no doubt) teaches its members that pre-marital sex is wrong; moreover, most sects of Chrisitianity consider it adultery, a mortal sin (the most serious of sins). Thus, from birth, Christian children are brainwashed, so to speak, into practicing abstinence.

But with adolescence comes hormones, rebellion and a re-evaluation of one's morals, ethics, and stances on a range of topics from clothing to politics. The pubescent teenager, faced with an alarmingly increased sexual awareness, must decide whether sex is an option or not.

By age 18, 75 percent of American males have decided that sex is acceptable for them, as they have practiced it at least once. Less than 20 percent of American males over 21 are virgins; the percentages are even lower for females. Obviously, the overwhelming majority of our generation has decided that, religion or no religion, pre-marital sex is OK.

This attitude has leaked into the media as well. Seventeen-year-old Becky on the popular sitcom Roseanne announces that she wants birth control pills because she's had sex with her boyfriend and wants to be careful "next time." In front of a ten-million plus TV audience, Roseanne consents.

A Dungeons and Dragons novel intended for an age 14 and up audience includes sexual statements and acts by non-married characters. These kinds of exposure do nothing to help the non-married population decide not to have sex.

Putting all religious reasons aside, there are a number of reasons not to engage in pre-marital sex. AIDS alone should be enough of a reason to convince someone not to have sex. This dreadful disease has been brought about partly (mostly!) because of our society's own lax attitude toward sex (i.e. multiple partners, lack of protection, etc.). But I can use a condom and avoid AIDS, you say.

The contraceptive -- a man-made device for what purpose? To enjoy the most fulfilling human emotions possible without the side effects (i.e. children). Originally intended to regulate menstrual periods (a la the pill) or to curb population growth among married couples, contraceptives are quickly snatched up and abused by non-married couples for their selfish purposes.

Did you ever think that sex was intended only for the guaranteed continuation of the human race? That our Creator (if you even believe one exists) made sex enjoyable only to ensure progeny? The idea has crossed my mind before, but I certainly do not subscribe to it.

Sexual intercouse is something that should be saved for someone you want to marry. Coitus should be a covenant you share only with your spouse as a promise of eternal and supreme love, as the act of making love is the purest form of earthly love. Engaging in pre-marital sex gives the engager nothing to look forward to in their marriage (sexwise).

Some would argue that there is a fine distinction between sex and making love. The way I see it it's like the difference between playing an acoustic guitar and an electric guitar. The same act is involved but it's different. Nonetheless, you're still playing a guitar. And nothing can compare to playing the guitar for the first time, trust me, this I know.

Others would argue that since they're already engaged, they've made a commitment to each other and sex is OK. I can't see how a couple that has waited for a year or two can't wait for another few months. Waiting will make that day all the more special -- a covenant to anticipate, something special to anticipate for the first time, as husband and wife. That's the way it was meant to be, and that's the way it should be for all of us.