Everyone has a "music not to shag to" story
but a glorious combination of factors conspired to ruin my chances when I was 20.

During my student years I was in a long-distance relationship. This, coupled with a frankly stunning degree of ineptitude with the opposite sex in my teens - I was hardly given much of a chance, I went to an all-boys, rugby-playing school, and emerged straight - meant that it took me some good time to lose my virginity. Yes, it was all due to my better half's unavailability. Nothing to do with big-night nerves manifesting themselves every time I got a shot at the title. Oh no.

Anyway. My first mistake was telling my flatmates this while I was plastered. By this point I'd actually managed to achieve the feat and thought that owning up to previous deficiences would show character, or some bollocks. I forgot that my flatmates were men and therefore bastards.

On one occasion when the ex (then current) Mme. Foxtrot (she was from Chesterfield) was visiting, I decided we were going to enjoy a night of romantic filth like no other, to make up for my previous shortcomings. I cooked her dinner (badly), dimmed the lights (well, turned them off) and stuck Massive Attack's awesome "Mezzanine" album on my fancy new (SHUT UP I'M OLD OK) 3-CD changing stereo.

I'm sure you can see where this is going, but stick with me, it gets better.

After nearly an hour of quality foreplay we finally got around to threading the needle. I have no idea why that euphemism sprang to mind. Shortly thereafter, my stereo disposed of Massive Attack and rumbled around to the Wu-Tang Clan. As difficult as it is to make the woman you love feel respected whilst several huge black men are philosophising on the various ways in which it's possible to degrade the fairer sex, it's much harder to keep her interest in the task at hand when, during the track "Incredible", you yourself start giggling at the dubious claim by (insert name of Wu-Tang Clan member here) that "I devour planets like Unicron, shoot neutron bombs from my arm like Galvatron".

What?

Just as I was congratulating myself for not pointing out that Galvatron's neutron cannon shot beams rather than bombs (although I can appreciate the superior rhyming quality of bombs), she makes me stop - yes, MAKES ME STOP - and turn the CD off. I know! Just for giggling mid-sex at a hip-hop Transformers reference! What's wrong with her? Anyway, I dutifully bob over to the stereo like a human divining rod, and head eagerly back to the bed.

The walls in this flat were very thin.

My flatmates are having a typical evening - listening to Slayer and playing Tekken 3. Unfortunately "Diabolus in Musica" ends shortly thereafter. As we're both trying to get our rhythm back, I can hear mumbled conversation, which I have transcribed below.

"Has the music coming out of Foxy's room stopped?"

"Yeah, think so"

"Oh, brilliant idea... give me a hand with the speakers"

(oh, fuck)

pause... silence

Maybe they're not so ba...

"LIKE A VIRGIN... TOUCHED FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME... LIKE A VIR-IRR-IR-IR-GIN..."

I can still hear that song every time sexual congress goes awry. It's a guaranteed de-stiffener.

No apologies for length - frankly, it was the least of my worries
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Thu 28 Jan 2010, 16:12, 1 reply)

Haha! This is brilliant
I sympathise. Several sexing sessions of my own have been RUINED by shit music coming on. (serves me right for putting it on shuffle I suppose)

Extra points go to your housemates :)
( Zumf Ham banjo, Thu 28 Jan 2010, 16:48, closed)