Don't lose your virginity to a fat bloke
My first boyfriend was somewhat less than svelte. Being a gawky, buck-toothed social outcast at the time (at least that's how I saw myself) I thought I might as well go for it as he was the best I was going to get.

I was 16, he was 19. We were both virgins. However, he didn't have even the slightest clue what to do beyond putting his small, chubby, barely-erect member somewhere in the vicinity of a part of me that deserves a lot more respect than it got that night.

Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was tiredness. Maybe he was just the only 19 year old on the fucking planet incapable of achieving anything more than a semi when confronted with a naked blonde sixteen year old. But it was like being rogered with an uncooked hot dog.

He also didn't understand that if you're on top you support YOURSELF. You don't just lie belly-down on your partner and wriggle, whilst crushing her to death.

As well as that, his lack of familiarity with exertion meant that he sweated. A lot. And as the grotesque ordeal reached its unfortunate end, I found myself staring at a drip of sweat, quivering ominously from the end of his nose, a mere two or three inches above my face.

I prayed. I prayed at that moment that the inevitable wouldn't happen. But in the end all I could do was watch, helplessly trapped beneath a lump of inept podge, as the malevolent salty droplet lost its grip on his nose and landed

On

My

FACE.

First, and worst. It nearly put me off for life.
( Spazzcat jam out with your clam out, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 17:02, Reply)