Where it happened: Her apartment
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
I had only known her for about a month. We became best friends right away, and lovers within the first week. I was 18, she was 21 and therefore far more experienced than I was, and we had both just gotten out of fairly traumatic relationships. We flirted with disaster a couple of times before taking the plunge. Finally (but it wasn’t finally, was it? It all happened too fast…), one night after we hadn’t seen each other for about a week, I went to her apartment. We watched a movie that I loved and I knew she would like. It was late, so I stayed the night. We went into her room and worked our way through various forms of foreplay – not unfamiliar territory – and then we went just a little too far. For the first time, we both found ourselves completely naked. We were both fully determined not to have sex – we just lay there for a few minutes, holding each other. I knew that she wanted to, and I suppose that I wanted to, but it was far too early in the relationship – we weren’t even in a relationship, we told ourselves – and then it all went right out the window. We made love for about an hour – I think she climaxed two or three times, but I never did. I felt like I wasn’t even in the room, like I was watching somebody else who looked a lot like me experience this so-called rite of passage. The whole thing felt so perfunctory. We were about to change positions for the fourth or fifth time when she leaned over and whispered, “I think we’ve done enough damage for one night.” And just like that, we put some of our clothes back on, rolled to opposite sides of the bed, and went to sleep. I knew it was a mistake. I just wanted to feel close to somebody, but I never felt as distant from the entire world as I did at that moment. The next morning was strained and awkward, even though I kept insisting that it wasn’t. We were both well-meaning, principled people, and we both believed in the importance of love, yet I went home convinced that I had used her for something, and she believed that she had used me. I masturbated within ten minutes of getting home. Porn didn’t really help, but as soon as I started thinking about what had happened the previous night, I only lasted about a minute. Isn’t that strange? A young man in his sexual prime can’t orgasm his first time, but recalling the event made me come almost instantly. I was in a funk for weeks after. She became desperately clingy, as she had warned me she would. Even today, it feels like this story doesn’t really have a conclusion, and I’ve certainly come a long way since then. I believed for most of my adolescence that I would save it for marriage, or at least until I had found real love. Instead, it played out like a footnote. Damn it.
Processing your request, Please wait....
