"I knew he wanted me when he put his hand on my waist one day, before quickly moving away under the guise of doing something…"
Want to catalog your sex life for Nerve? Send your complete list of bedpost notches, along with your age and location, to email@example.com. Don't worry — we won't print your name.
We worked together at a fast-food restaurant for about three months. I had just turned sixteen and the boy I'd been dating had done nothing more than kiss me. I knew Luay wanted me when he put his hand on my waist one day, before quickly moving away under the guise of doing something. He invited me to his place, and we made out for a few hours while watching Dodgeball. That was the first time I'd ever dry-humped anyone. Two days later, I went back, and during our makeout session, I asked if he had a condom, as a way of making it clear that I wanted to fuck him. He knew I was a virgin and asked me three times if I was sure. I was sure. I'd picked him because I knew there wouldn't be any drama. It was my first time for everything — full-body-contact makeout sessions, oral and penetrative sex. It hurt a bit and he stopped after a few minutes because I was lying there like a stunned mullet and he was worried that he was hurting me. I dressed and went home. I moved out of the state a few weeks later and he was really upset when I told him. I asked what he thought we were, seeing as he had a girlfriend who was overseas and we worked together. He just gave me a hurt look through two black eyes — a random drunk had attacked him a few days earlier at work.
My first boyfriend. We met through a friend at a party and had a "magnetic" connection. (His words.) He looked a lot like Matt Damon, even at seventeen. I remember fucking for hours in my tiny bedroom, feeling amazing and covered in sweat due to the humidity. He told me after we broke up that he had been a virgin; when we first had sex, he had wanted to wait. I felt and still feel awful about pushing him when he wasn't ready — if I had known, I would have waited until he was comfortable. He refused to let me break up with him when I moved away, even though I admitted to cheating on him and said that I didn't want to be with him.
I cheated on Jeremy several times, due to the fact that I was, you know, sixteen. This guy had honey skin and light green eyes, a combination I still find irresistible. The sex was terrible. His penis had a right angle in it.
A guy I met through uni. A friend introduced us, saying, "You both like weird rough sex." This was true, but sex with Josh was the first time I truly understood how much I loved BDSM. He was ripped due to martial-arts training and had a huge cock. I was close to in love with him, but we were both too fucked up and depressed. We still speak sometimes, which is weird and sexually tense.
Matt was a hairy Greek guy — another tanned guy with green eyes. He was the sweetest guy I will ever know, but far too gentle for me to really be satisfied. A total absence of common interests, plus my immaturity, rang the death knell for this one. My mother was more upset than I was.
Tom was a soldier I met at a party. We chatted and flirted right up until I asked his age — he was twenty-seven and I was nineteen. We stopped talking for the rest of the party, but I added him on Facebook. Then we talked some more and he came to visit. We fucked hard, and after I said I didn't feel like I could ask him for anything more. He said I could, and we started dating long-distance. Then he got his commission and went away for two months. When he came back, he was weird and distant and dumped me. A week later, he apologized and asked for a second chance. I knew I should say no, but my friend said to take him back. Terrible idea. He's still friends with my friends, but we're not awkward now that it's been four years and I moved away in the meantime.
Ben was the reason it got really awkward with Tom. He came to visit when we were just very good friends, and stayed in my studio apartment on the couch for one night. The next four nights, we got riotously drunk and talked shit the entire time. On the fourth night, I started it. Technically I was still with Tom, but I'd emotionally checked out when he dumped me. Ben and I fucked like champs, and I felt so weird afterwards. He pulled me into a cuddle and I relaxed. I remember him getting up to go visit workmates while I was sleeping in; then he hopped back into bed to let me sleep on his chest until he had to go catch his train. I moved interstate to be with him, and he repeated that ritual most mornings. The sex was good, but after three years I called it — I had changed in order to make him love me.
My crazy rebound. At first it was great — he knew I just wanted casual sex, and the sex was good. Then he fell in love with me and it got weird, real quick. He had only been acting rough because he knew I liked it. It was unnatural and weird.
This was a one-night stand that could have been good casual sex, but he got weird too. Still, he was the first guy to make me squirt.
This was a casual thing that he wanted more from. One night I called him for sex and there were tea lights everywhere with a fake fire on the TV. He told me later he had done it so I could see that he was a good boyfriend candidate. I moved interstate again, back home to Sydney.
I got online and quickly set up a date with this enormous tattooed tank. By now, I had learnt what I wanted from sex, and he delivered. We still fuck casually and he goes down like a champ.
Redhead with the most hilarious giggle. Easily the best sex I have ever had and still have. Number one booty call and great friend.
Sweet guy and far too gentle. Said he "really likes me." Warning klaxons.