It's raw, it's real:
The first time I had sex marked an interesting point in my life. Or I should say, it marks an interesting time in my life because this particular chapter I feel is far from over. The first time was with an odd fellow by the name of Christopher. At least that is what I think his name is, I can’t be sure. The night, as a whole, was rather strange. I was with Alyson, and we were wandering around pretending we were from Ireland (although, unfortunately, I am relatively certain that my accent was far from accurate). Anywho, as we meandered through the university’s “student ghetto” we found ourselves at a party of sorts. In the traditional style of my university’s parties it seems, there was a required fee in order to gain admittance. Due to the fact that we were (and still are) terribly broke, we decided instead to hop the fence. This resulted in several bruises and a smattering of scrapes, but nevermind. At lease we were now in the party environment and not just a pair of fools standing on the street.
Once in the large gathering of people, I found myself talking to
a medium size Chinese man. He was very interesting. He spoke of his work with
organizations that dealt with malaria in disease-ridden countries. Given the
fact that I had consumed a lot of vodka, and a strange mango energy drink, I
was rather taken with him. But then he had to leave, called away for some
reason, and I was left alone. Now being alone in general I do not really have a
problem with. But, being alone at a kegger is an entirely different story. It
is in this state that you begin to see the party for what it truly is - a
desperate group of people all trying to make some kind of superficial
connection with someone else. This is something you want to avoid at all cost
because then you end up questioning the meaning of life, and how you are
failing miserably in every aspect at whatever life could signify. So,
naturally, I grasped on to the only other person I had made casual small talk
with; the man in the silver fedora. This is the man that I would lose my virginity
to. I know, it seems insane.
I began making casual conversation with this fellow, and then the
next thing I knew, he was leading me to his house. And I just followed. Even
now, I still cannot quite decipher why I did this. I could have easily broken free
and forged my way home. But no, I decided to follow this strange man home. Upon
arrival, his seduction techniques consisted of him showing me his collection of
kitchen knives, all of which he sold, his bow and arrow collection, and his
exact replica of a medieval sword. I was surprised by his tactics to say the
least. And then, just when I thought he could not out do himself, he began to
recount to me the history of battleships during the world wars.
It was after this display that we actually had sex. I must say, I
was very drunk at the time. Sadly, this did not lessen the pain I experienced
in the least. I am not sure if this was because of a lack of cunnilingus or
what, but on the whole, I do remember a significant amount of pain accompanying
the experience. And then, on top of that, his head would not stop moving. It
just kept bobbing up and down in front of me as if he was some kind of tropical
fish in a sad little tank. And then, I threw up. Classy right?
Yes, I threw up in the middle of having sex for the first time.
At this point I decided it was time to go, and so I said to the man in the
silver fedora, “I must go, or else the feminists will be disappointed in me.” I
am not sure exactly what I meant with that phrase, only that I knew it would
make for an excellent exit. He was a bit confused, I think.
That was my first time having sex. It was not romantic, or
magical. I did not see any stars, or form any kind of emotional attachment to
that man. It was just something I did, and that is all it was.
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