I did marry my first. We divorced two and a half years later. He was a terrific guy and a wonderful person, but we were just both too young to be married. He was a mama’s boy too, but not as bad as I first thought. He’s on his third marriage, with no kids of his own. His third wife has a daughter. What a shame because he would have made an excellent father. He had the patience of Job.
I would have turned into my mother.
What I meant by “I’m a freak” is that I am the only person I know who married the first person they had intercourse with (I keep saying intercourse because, like Lego implied, there are different levels of sexual intimacy and I was no angel).
People either think I’m lying or that I must be a former fundametalist (I’m not). A lot of people think it’s kinda freaky. Hell, I think it is. To think of all the guys I coulda done it with just to see what it was like.
And to top it all off, I don’t have any “the man that got away --Thank God!” stories. I’ve been deprived because I wasn’t depraved.
Does that mean your first was your dad???
d&r
Define “sex”. 
First kiss: divocred, with probably a kid or two, trying to get their drug-addict, dead-beat dad to pay child support.
First “real” sex: married 'im. 10 years in September.
As per the OP, if I’d married the first person I’d kissed…
…one (and probably both) of us would be institutionalized or have committed suicide. No, I’m not kidding.
Fortunately, I learned from the experience, and the second girlfriend has been a much more rewarding relationship – eleven years happily married.
He, I believe, has a fine career selling used car parts in rural Virginia.
I would probably be helping him sell used car parts. It’s unlikely that I would have gone to grad school, as he did his best to convince me that grad school was a waste of time, that I didn’t have enough “energy” or “personality” to be a good teacher, and that if I really loved him I wouldn’t want to study in another state anyway.
I wouldn’t have any friends of my own (he was jealous of them). Every now and then he would tell me what a pathetic loser I was for not having any friends of my own; I would make some vague efforts, and come home to find him angry at me for going out without him; he would say something cold, cutting, and just true enough to bite deep. One or the other of us would cry. He would beg me to forgive him and act very loving until the next time he decided I was a pathetic loser.
His own friends would hang out with us, and most of the time he’d be the perfect husband in public. Every now and then, he’d let some put-down slip, and his friends would give me concerned looks and say nothing. Not their business, after all, and they wouldn’t know me too well because I never dared to say very much in his presence.
I hope, however, that I would still be in contact with my family, unlike his next girlfriend, whom he essentially manipulated into a position where her folks cut her off. (They became engaged a week later.)
There would be no children (low sperm count, history of genetic disorders in the family). Thank God. I can’t bear the thought of raising kids in such an environment now, but I know that I would have wanted them desperately.
Cheery enough for ya?
Well, I think the marriage would have crashed and burned very quickly, and I would have been ripped up so much inside that during the worst of it I’d often think that it would be a lot easier if I had even the remotest suicidal tendencies to act on. Then I would have start coming back together, met some downright wonderful ladies who share large responsibilities for that healing, become much closer and more appreciative of my best friends, and in general come out of things a little wiser if somewhat scarred. Nowadays, I’d be enjoying an extended vacation between jobs, and occasionally posting on a message board called the Straight Dope.
First kiss would have been tricky. What are the laws on first-graders marrying?
Well, you can look at the question in two ways. If I’d known beforehand I was going to have to marry the first person I had sex with, it sure would have changed my choice because “L” was not a “nice girl.” She did, however, have a great golf ball collection, obtained through a garden hose.
Had I married her, it would have been a briefly passionate, worldly experience, soon followed by a spirited divorce because of multiple affairs on both sides. My parents would be glad I’d come to my senses, I would eventually have found my current wife because we were destined to be together, and my friends would each eventually call me to see if they could ask my ex out.
The first girl I had sex with ended up getting her Master’s degree and she’s a nice, successful woman. So it might actually have worked out. Of course, we were 17 and 15 at the time, so I think those first few years would have been a little tough.
But I’m glad we didn’t stay together, because now I have Mrs. RickJay.
Marsha? Is that you?
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This thread is scary.
If I’d married the first guy I ever slept with, we’d be living in Seattle, he’d be working for Microsoft, we’d have at least one child, probably school age by now. Our relationship would be fairly sterile, with little non-superficial conversation, but we’d still have sex as frequently as I could talk him into it, and I’d be taking frivolous elective classes at the local community college to make myself feel worthwhile. Probably yoga.
On the surface it’d be a better life, but I’d be filled with quiet desperation though too complacent to leave. When I hit my mid-life crisis in another 10 years or so, I’d probably take our child and leave him, and he’d always wonder why.
I’d be married with two girls, working as a physician, living in my dream home and posting to the SDMB. Hey, that is my life! Waiting, faithfulness and monogamy have worked well for us.
Hmm. Well, I probably wouldn’t have gone to college at the point that I did, and since he died 3 years later, I’d have either divorced the SOB or been widowed.
I shudder at the mere thought of marrying the first person I had sex with! Probably because I almost did marry him.
I’d be working 3-4 jobs while he sat on his ass all day drinking beer and smoking pot. He’d get a job (something in construction or painting houses), work for 2-3 days and then bitch that his boss was an asshole and he just had to quit. He’d be having numerous affairs all the while trying to make me believe it was my fault he was cheating. We’d never have sex together because of this and I’d eventually have to kill him in his sleep. (I almost did that too!) :eek:
I just ran into this guy about a month ago and it was very scary. He’s still a lazy bum who depends on a woman to support him and he still refers to me as “the one that got away!” He stalked me for awhile after we broke up until one of my boyfriend’s beat the piss out of him. Then he moved away. Every couple of years he comes back though.
::shudder::
Funny, I’ve been dreaming about my ‘first’ for the last couple nights. Hmmm…
He’d have made it to fulltime fireman. He’d still be doing volunteer rescue work off hours. I’d have finished college
Poli-Sci/Journalism) and be writing OP/ED page for local paper. We’d spend our free time camping, climbing, hiking, all the good stuff I miss. (My husband has arthritis)
I miss his chuckle. Sexiest damn sound I’ve ever heard.
His name was Kurt.
The guy I first had sex with probably wouldn’t be too bad, only a little boring. He’s a nice person and we’re still friends. I talk to his mother more than I talk to him (he doesn’t live in the area) and she is a lovely woman.
Now the first kiss … that is more interesting. I’d be married to a private detective. He would come home after a day in the office and tell me about his cases, and I would help him figure out the clues. We would travel to exotic foreign locations to investigate, and we would constantly be dressed in formal wear and have martini glasses in our hands at all times. We’d be the 21st century Nick and Nora. Even though we are from the same town, we wouldn’t go home very much because he thinks everyone there is dowdy and boring. He has nothing against children, but thinks we should wait until we settle down before having a family. That would sound reasonable to me, so I would agree, and then wake up in despair some day when we are 60 and realize it is too late and that we never settled down. About that time, we would realize that for the past 45 years, we haven’t had any conversations that weren’t an exchange of extremely witty one liners punctuated by sparkling laughter, many of which were actually directed at Asta.
Hmmmm. Couple of possibilites:
a) She would now be an ex-con for commiting bigamy
b) I would be dead as her husband would have killed me
Neither one seems very attractive.
He’d have moved to wherever I went to college, because he admired my intelligence, but then he’d have become sad, and eventually unfaithful. After all, I’d be doing class work all the time… I’d have gotten frustrated with his un-schooledness, and have gotten closer to classmates than I’d ever been with him, emotionally. We’d probably have had no kids, and after a couple years, we’d have drifted into a very quiet, emotionless divorce. At least he would have taught me how to skateboard…
My first kiss is more problematic - I’d have married my cousin’s cousin (he was a cousin through marriage, therefore NOT related to me in any way). That would have been quite a strain though…
In the end, I would have become a widow. And the marriage would have only lasted because I don’t believe in divorce.
He drowned while drunk a year ago. We would have been living in a trailor somewhere, while he worked, at many things… a job, how many women he could handle at a time… ect.
I would have been miserable, and probably blamed myself for him drowning. Gone into even more severe depression, for I am bi-polar. Which makes me believe that dancing on his grave might not have been out of the question either.
I don’t believe that we would have had childeren, unless I was fooling around… for the man thought ahead and had himself fixed.
But our sex life would have been great, and he might have even got some of the film out to the public, and you never know… after he left, I might have turned to another in his ring and asked her to be my life partner.
Thank goodness for the road ((wisely)) not taken.