Guys, don’t feel bad for yourselves. I’ve got an uncle who still lived at home, he’s 37, I believe, and as far as I know, he’s still a virgin.
I was 18… Still am. Happened about 4 months ago, at a fraternity party. Sort of gave me a name, getting laid at the first party I went to, and all. It didn’t really count, though. I was drunk, she was drunk. I was 18, she was 22. I was single, she was engaged. She was my brother’s girlfriend’s friend from work. I’m making light of it now, but I know I’ll regret getting drunk and fucking some chick I’ve never even seen again one of these days. I sort of already do. Wish I’d waited and all that. But the pressure of an 18 year old cock, and the pressure of ‘none of your friends are virgins’, in addition to alcoholic stupor, really did me in. Oh well, I guess. No going back.
–Tim
We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first “lost generation” nor today’s lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak.
Oh, btw, an annoying teacher we all hated and made fun of and tried to make cry in high school, Mrs. Stoner, is in her 60’s and still a virgin (at least, that’s what all us students believe). She’s only dated one guy, or something, and he died the night before their wedding. Sad, I suppose, but we were young and evil. Jokes abounded.
I don’t think I would like to have the last name “Stoner” in a school environment. But it sounds like you thought of plenty of things to make fun of nasty old Ms. Stoner about.
I was 17. I had been dating this very sweet girl for about a year. We had been very cautious and responsible and stuff. We talked a lot more about it than we needed to. Clearly, sexual communication is important, but it was like we were getting paid by the word. Anyway, after months of smooching and cuddling we decided to go ahead. It was kind of uncomfortable the first few times.
Anyway, my relationship with her seems like one of the few things I did right. We thought about getting married, but we grew apart during college, and started seeing other people. We were together for three years total.
Nothing I write about any person or group should be applied to a larger group.
When I was a teenager I ran with a crowd that was a lot “faster” than me. They were all having sex, and although they never pressured me to have sex, I got curious and thought I would give it a try. I did it with a friend’s older brother (he was 18). His parents somehow found out, and I instantly became known as the townhome community’s slut. (Just as all the kids hung out together, so did the parents, so when his parents found out they went and told all the other parents). For a long time I was unwelcome in any of my friend’s homes. I wanted to scream at everyone that it was my first time for cryin’ out loud, and if anyone bothered to open their eyes they would see that THEIR kids were having sex like rabbits! But no. Oh well, this was all 15 years ago and the pain of that situation has worn off. And now, at 30, I am no longer a slut but a dried up old spinster! I can’t win.
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.–Coleridge
I was 16. My boyfriend was 19, and just out of the Marines. It was sweet, really. He never pressured me at all. It was my idea. But he made sure that I was sure I wanted to do this. He also made sure we had protection. The first time we tried it, it hurt, and I got scared & stopped (he had warned me that it might hurt but I wanted to do it anyway). About two weeks later, I decided I wanted to give it another try. We did, and it still hurt some, but not as bad. It was nice. I liked it, and I don’t regret it.
I was 16. She was 18. I did’nt love her. She knew that. The whole thing was over in thirty seconds. It was great. I love sex. Especially with a partner.
I was 16. I’d been dating the guy since I was 14 (he was a senior, I was a freshman when we started dating). It hurt the first time so bad that I made him stop. I bled for a week. It hurt the next…8 or 9 times, too. sigh come to think of it I don’t think sex with him ever felt GOOD. (can you see why I like small/average penises?)
I was fifteen. He was yummy. It was during my school lunch break (he just happened to have a friend who lived across the street from the school). My lunch was set up so that I went to Drama class for a little while, broke for lunch, and came back to Drama class afterwards.
I was a little late for class…
“…all the prettiest girls live in Des Moines…”
–Jack Kerouac, On the Road
Chris’ Homepage: Domestic Bliss
Great. I’m still the oldest (not counting the second hand “maybe-he-is” uncle.) Oh well. I’m not bitter. Really.
The reason why has changed over the years. When I was a teenager, I was really shy. I dated, but it never got that serious. I was too busy for relationships when I was in college. Now, it has more to do with a fear of commitment, in spades. I’m not celibate by choice really. I’m just afraid of all the baggage that can come up afterwards.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking for pity. The fact is that I love my solitary lifestyle. I’m a loner, and I guess deep down I always have been. I like it this way. I prefer it this way. Furthermore, I don’t want to compromise my happiness just for the sake of a little sack time. It wouldn’t be fair to me, or to my partner.
The summer between 7th and 8th grade. In the back seat of a '47 Plymouth (I don’t know who it belonged to. It was parked along side a gas station.) Her name was Eileen, and she was beautiful. She was a year older than me, and “experienced.”
I haven’t seen her in nearly 30 years, but she’ll always be that same, lovely, soft, wonderful girl from the summer of 1966 to me. sigh
