"We had such an active weekend that I developed a latex allergy…"
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I was the last of my friends to sleep with Micah. He was the big man on campus in high school, so I was proud of my catch. For my first time, it was pretty status quo… if status quo was unprotected, on a bear-skin rug, while your friend was passed out right next to you. It never happened again.
Justin was the first guy I really had feelings for. So when we finally came together in that twin bed in a friend's house, I found myself never really being able to look him in the eyes again. When I was younger, I had the notion that I was undeserving of affection. He showed me some, and I showed him the door. I should find time to apologize.
We experimented in a number of places, the most interesting of which was his '97 Ford extended cab parked in a cornfield. He almost never got off, which was also what I had heard about him around town. Hopefully it wasn't just me.
A vacation conquest I worked all evening on. I looked at my watch to check the time and said, "Oh shoot. It's Sunday. I should get to bed to attend church in the morning." He asked jokingly if I was a "good Catholic," to which I replied "Would you like to come to my room and find out?" Things started pretty hot and heavy, but they fizzled fast once he asked "if it hurt" and I responded with a giggle.
Another conquest while on a college trip. I had a zit on my ass, which he found repulsive, but it wasn't nearly as repulsive as the community sex bed I woke up in at his fraternity the next morning. And the rug burn on my tailbone burned for days after. I'm lucky nothing else burned.
I drank half a bottle of Citron with freshly squeezed clementines. Why do I even remember this, you ask? Only because there's photographic evidence.
I'll always wish I had performed better for Dax. He was someone who "got" me and my outlook on relationships. Sadly, nerves destroyed it and I forgot how to perform on top.
I became Matt 2's sexual puppet. My feelings for him were through the roof. He never reciprocated. We had a few years of escapades, but even with that said, I can't think of one thing he did that indicated sexual talent.
Regardless of how much I enjoyed Matt 3, he urinated on me in his sleep, and to this day thinks it was me who did it. We've not purposefully spoken since, but every once in a while we have an awkward unintentional run-in. It's been ten years, but I think for him it feels like one day when my face pops up. The sad thing is, right after the peeing incident, we got up and had sex on the floor.
I enjoyed Chris and his long body. We had such an active weekend that I developed a latex allergy. Apparently all of that friction pushed my body to its limit. I think of him a lot. Especially when I look at the latex-allergy bracelet that's been on my wrist ever since.
Unmemorable. Does he have to count?
This encounter may or may not have been the origin of the phrase "just the tip." We had a hard time getting anywhere. Now that I'm single again, I'd take a do-over.
He looked like Biff from Back to the Future. We were into the fact that neither backed down from a challenge, which was why we took our sexual activity public. In college we worked in a computer lab, and we knew where the cameras weren't going to catch us. So we made a habit of utilizing the space.
Multiple years of monogamy with this one. Everything got to be like clockwork. But he's still the only man who's been able to make me come consistently. In the end, though, the sex became too familiar. He's now a sounding board for when I have issues with a new partner.
Patrik helped me get over the hump of my breakup. He was a Swedish model with an uncircumsized penis that I couldn't bring myself to look at directly. With no bed available to us, we made use of the shower. And the bathroom sink. I saw recently that he had his first magazine cover; I'd love to swing by Stockholm sometime next year.
I had grilled cheese for dinner the night I met Nick. It was really good grilled cheese.
Brazen was probably Kevin's middle name. When I visited his bar in Paris, I asked for directions to the bathroom. On my way there, Kevin offered to give me a private tour of the downstairs. Naively accepting, and hoping not to turn into a Liam Neeson-movie-like casualty in this foreign land, I followed him into a dark room. Once he flicked the light on, I was tossed onto a barstool and his head was up my dress before I had time to blink. We fucked all over that room and I walked out of the bar afterward feeling like vacation had really started off well.
I knew this one was in a relationship when he lasted all of two minutes. Someone was clearly not paying his penis much mind. Too bad I didn't know this beforehand.
He was hung and uninhibited. I ended up walking a little funny after our eighteen-hour marathon, but some of the muscle soreness was in my abs, which I must have strongly contracted the moment I felt his tongue in my ass. The tossed salad has never been appetizing to me, and I don't think it ever will be.
I gave this guy two chances. The first time I know for a fact that I rocked his world; I did all of the heavy lifting. The second time I wanted to see where he would take things. As a result, I now know that he shuns foreplay, prefers missionary, and does not take the noises of neighbors enjoying their own amorous moment more as motivation to work harder.
I met Tommy through a mutual friend. The friend explained that he used to think Tommy was a virgin, but after being around him a bit, he found out he was "the opposite of that" and he had heard he was "great in bed." Well, I'm not sure what the opposite of a virgin is, other than the obvious, and "great in bed" always sounds good, so I had to give it a try despite being incompatible with him in nearly every other way. It turns out the rumors are true. I'm happily riding this one for all he's worth.