The first time I had sex was a cartoon catastrophe. Spilt sugary drinks, sweet & sour soft candies, and sweaty clothing covered my bedroom floor.
I lost my virginity when I was 18. For some strange reason some of my friends and family thought it occurred earlier. Regardless, the things I was good at losing before I became a legal adult were the keys to my bicycle lock, my players guide to Final Fantasy VII, and the pre-pubescent pitch of my voice.
My grade school years threw a decent proportion of sexual health and education my way, but it was my mum and dad who basically taught me a Master’s Degree equivalent of “how not to get a girl pregnant.” Mum was still playing high school basketball and my dad was still waiting for his surname to be embroidered on his varsity jacket when I spawned in the womb. Both of my parents became instant experts on what contraception methods didn’t work.
Side Note: my parents would also come to prove diaphragms were ineffective; this is how I have a younger sister.
Up until my eighteenth year breathing air on this planet, I had come to know and love most forms of non-penetrative sex with a female. Luckily for me, my neighbour was hosting one of those low-key mid-week parties. I met a girl my age at the shindig and must have been wearing the right flavour of Axe body spray, because she came home with me.
At the time I was still living with my dad, but he was working up in camp somewhere and wasn’t going to be home for a couple weeks. This gal and I had the whole house to ourselves. It didn’t take long before there were all sorts of split fluids covering the floor of my bedroom.
At eighteen I had come across a pornographic video or two. But I had no idea how the engineering of my bed altered during sex. We had slipped off the end of my bed mid-stroke and rocked the dresser, which held our drinks, candy, and condoms.
There were spilt beverages, sweet & sour treats, and the two of us attempting to remain in the act of sex while in between a bed frame and a dresser. We recovered, finished, and banged a couple more times (each more successful than the last) before I had to get the young lady home.
I ended up seeing the gal a week later. She came over again (my dad was still away working or so I thought). This gal and I were making out with our shirts off in the living room and in walks dad back from being away for two weeks. I had misjudged his work schedule. I didn’t get laid that night, the gal introduced herself to my dad as “Jonah’s girlfriend,” and I got freaked out.
I didn’t see her again till a New Year’s party several years later and she wanted nothing to do me then.