Jezebel recently asked people to submit details of their first time in order to create a list of the top ten worst/best ‘losing my religion’ moments for the world to view. After reading a few and thanking my lucky stars that I a) didn’t end up with 3 venereal diseases like some poor sod and b) didn’t have to wrangle the foreign body part into cooperation (attention?) before attempting said act.. well I just couldn’t help but share.
The day I got my braces off was the day of my first kiss. Ever. Age 16, freed from the rubber bands and extensive metalwork of the last 2 years, I was free to smile, flirt and market my newly straightened teeth. Instead I just made out with the first guy who asked, at a party that night.
Jon was 6 ft 6 with a long brown ratty mullet and a face full of freckles. An aficionado of hemp clothing, patchouli oil and Pink Floyd, he wasn’t exactly my first choice, but hey, he was the first to ask. And ta-daaaa, therefore my first boyfriend. I had to stand on a stair to kiss him and I couldn’t reach any body part worth playing with, but hey.. he was all mine. I’d been reading trampy lady books since the age of 13, he seemed to be sporting the required equipment, so I was good to go. In the absence of sisterly guidance or girlfriends who could have told me otherwise, I decided ‘what the hell?’ Bring on the heaving and panting, the big screaming orgasms and whatever they were trying to explain on page 86 of Lace. I wasn’t raised with any notion of sin that didn’t involve my mother’s directives (and she’d never directly told me not to have sex) so what harm could there be in doing the deed? It was all feeling good and we were over 16…
In hindsight I think he was more shocked than excited when I agreed to go ‘all the way’ the following Saturday (always a planner, me), but what’s a guy to do when a nubile virgin enthusiastically tells him ‘I’ll get the condoms’ and practically bounces in excitement when he says ‘ok’? Hell he’d only just kissed me and managed to squeeze a boob..he could hardly say ‘no’.
And so I showed up, armed with my condoms and every scene in every dirty book I’d ever read. From the naughty shop girl who strips down for her coworkers to the couple who take turns shaving each other.. I was ready for anything. Bring it on. Sexy time.
As per usual, Pink Floyds’ Dark Side of the Moon’ was on the stereo and the incense was a burnin’. After grinding into each other’s jeans on the living room sofa for half an hour, my patience was running thin so I dragged him upstairs to his bedroom and proceeded to strip. Actually strip sounds sexy.. this was not. No-one taking off a plaid flannel shirt before they have sex for the first time is sexy… lets just say ‘I got undressed’. Really fucking fast. I lay prone on his patchouli scented sheets (the thought of that smell still makes me retch) and waited for him to get down to business.
Apparently Jon thought he was the seducer at this point (despite the fact that I was a) already naked b) holding a condom in my hand and c) asking him to have sex with me, please. Not the brightest guy, Jon. Still, as he swayed around the bed, slowly undressed in what I suppose he considered a sexy dance I did have time to appreciate his largess. Well, he was 6 ft 6. He had largess.
By the time he’d ‘seduced’ me with his striptease, I was starting to get a bit cold and frankly, thinking that the dry humping was a lot less hassle. But after donning his rubber (the condom, not a full body suit), he got down to it. About 3 minutes in, I experienced my first orgasm. To which he looked shocked, appalled and then so horrified that he stopped…
‘You said you were a virgin’
‘I am!!! was??? am!!’
‘No you’re not. Everyone knows virgins can’t have orgasms’
‘Well I can’
Ok, so in hindsight, we clearly weren’t mature enough to be engaging in the act since we ended up squabbling about my virginity’s status but hey, I didn’t know better.
The next day I learned quite how immature he actually was… as girls whispering ‘slut’ behind my back and Jon was slapped on the back and applauded for unearthing the school ‘slut’. My lack of girlfriends meant I was never appraised to the push and pull of 16 year old boys and girls. I didn’t know I was meant to say no.. or at least say no a lot more first, and sex ed never covered girls orgasms. Clearly I was abnormal. Apparently he’d have been more at home if I’d wept into a lace handkerchief and wailing about losing my ‘flower’.
I retired from sex as quickly as I’d started. I decided to wait until I could find man who wasn’t obsessed with playing me Stairway to Heaven and telling his friends about what he got up to when the lights were out. I had to wait a year to find one and he still insisted on playing me ‘Stairway to Heaven’… but he never told a soul what we got up to and I’ve never had more fun in a Mini Cooper.