Twas a few months ago, with a guy from my school who I had a terrible crush on for the whole semester. He was very, very attractive to me in many ways, and very sweet. We became friends right away, but I didn’t admit that I liked him for a good month. After that, there was definitely a mutual attraction thing going, complete with lustful stares across the room. He told me he didn’t want a relationship for various reasons, but asked me if I wanted to have sex anyways. I was hesitant, but ended up going for it because 1) I wanted to see what the damn big deal was, and 2) I wanted it to be with someone that I trusted and liked. It’s hard to explain now, but there was something about him that sort of drew me out and made me want to trust him completely in a way I never felt before.
We still sorta-kind of keep in touch (through Facebook), but mostly all those intense feelings have faded. It was enjoyable while it lasted, though. We were both 20 at the time (he’s since turned 21).
We were a couple for about six months before it happened so it roughly marked the halfway point in our relationship. Various teenagey dramas ensued and there was fluctuating hostility for a couple of years afterwards but eventually that settled down. We’re friendly acquaintances now and chat if we bump into each other, and his wife is one of my Facebook contacts. We brought out the worst in each other and staying together would have been a horrible mistake, but he is a good person and I don’t regret that it was him.
My college BF – I was 19, he was 25 when we started going out. We started having sex about six months into what turned out to be a four-year relationship.
Still friends – albeit neither geographically nor emotionally close ones – 35 years later.
I was 20, and I honestly can’t say who I lost it with. I guess that it depends on how you define “lost it”, since there was a lot of heavy foreplay in there as well. It was either a girl that I had dated off and on for years, or someone that I had just started dating.
I’ve always been a late bloomer, a bit socially awkward, and very shy, so finding a partner was an issue. Actually, a big part of my decision to pursue this guy was to prove to myself that I could.
You know, that’s what I’ve always noticed, it seems like a lot of people lose their virginity because they for whatever personal reasons decide they are ready to, and the person it’s with is more incidental. That’s how it was for me anyway.
She was my second “serious” girlfriend. We were both 13. “Angel” by Aerosmith was playing on her boombox, and her parents were in the basement watching Perfect Strangers.
Her sluttier best friend was going at it with her boyfriend across the room.
Earlier that week, her dad had taken her bedroom door off the hinges. We both left our shoes on and our jeans around our ankles on the off chance that her parents came upstairs.
It was magical.
The next week, I went down on her in my bedroom after spending the day with my family at the St. Patrick’s Day parade.
I think we broke up a couple of weeks later.
Nearly twenty years on, I still up a little bit whenever I hear that song. Bless your skanky, delinquent little heart, Jenny.
Of all the people I’ve had sex with, I’ve only been close with one of them, and she was not my first.
My first was somewhere between an acquaintance and a friend, and we were drunk. She later admitted that was probably why it happened, and she went on her first date with her now-fiancee a couple days later. We’ve not seen each other in person since then – we lived in different cities, and I moved to the other side of the country not long afterward – but I still comment to entries she makes on a social networking site now and again.
She was someone who I had sort of just met. Except not really. My mother and hers were best friends from high school, but they lived on separate continents since the girl I lost it to was born. I had previously met her when she was, I don’t know, 4 or 5? and I was not quite a teenager. I saw her again when I traveled Europe; I was 21 and she was 14 or so. I went back recently, at age 29, and I ended up spending a lot of time with her while visiting her family because she was on holiday from college and the rest of her family were had work or school.
We had a pretty intense connection from the moment we laid eyes on each other. Some of it was sexual, but it was probably more emotional than anything else. We had sex on the night before she was about to leave for Paris and a day before I was about to leave on my way back to Milan to fly home (though I had about a week left until my flight; I was planning on seeing a few friends and getting there a few days ahead of time to be safe). That night I missed the train back to her parents place and she suggested that I stay the night with her.
She made it clear that she was interested in some sort of sexual activity if I was. We both knew and even made more or less explicit that this was a one-night-stand situation–indeed at first she said she thought it would be better if we didn’t have intercourse (and no kissing on the mouth). I had no problem with this.
During the course of the night she changed her mind about intercourse and so we had sex.
I haven’t kept in close contact with her since, but we exchange emails every so often. I still think fondly of her and will always be happy to hear from her, and really I imagine I’ll always feel a connection to her, but we each have our own lives to live. She said, before we went back to her place, that she thought we were lovers in a previous life. Though I don’t really think in those terms, it actually described how I felt pretty well.
Oh, and as for why I waited that long? I can’t say exactly. For one thing, I have hard time telling when a woman is interested in me, for another I’m quite shy about expressing sexual interest in a woman. It took me a long time to realize that I’m actually attractive (a least to some women). I think I was in my mid-20s before I heard of–and believed–a woman being attracted to me.
I seem to get along quite well with women and my very best friend is a woman. I’m a small “n” nice guy. I sometimes wish women would be more forward or that I could read their interest better because I certainly did like the sex I had and would like to do more of it. I do think it may have been a good thing that I was out of the immature teenage years when I had sex for the first time, but I don’t think it would have been so bad and I certainly think it would be OK to have happened earlier than 29.
Met a girl at a party when I was back from University (I was 18, she was 20-something), we hooked up over the weekend but lost touch when I went back to school on Monday.
I was a 16 year old freshman in college; she was a 34 year old professor. The danger of the relationship caused us to be quite close as comrades in secrecy while we were together. The relationship was illicit on five levels; civilly, I was too young to consent to a same-sex relationship in that state at that time. With regard to my college, unmarried students could be expelled for engaging in any form of sexual activity; students could be expelled for being non-heterosexual regardless of sexual activity, professors could be summarily fired for being non-heterosexual regardless of sexual activity and professors could be summarily fired for being sexually involved with a student.
It lasted a semester and when it ended, it ended badly. I no longer have any fondness nor respect for her. But it was nice while it lasted.
Fred and I were both college Freshmen, and he was s-o-o-o-o cute. I got his attention one day, and we became friends. I don’t think it was as long as a week before we consummated our friendship. It was my first time, and his . . . well, he claimed to have been having sex as far back as he could remember.
It happened the night before my Calculus final . . . and I mean ***all night! ***I remember dozing off the next day during the final, but aced it anyway.
Yeah, Fred was a really sweet guy, who eventually died from AIDS.