It was the summer when everyone was having 55-hour marriages.
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.
He was a friend of my cousin's and I was 20. I had been raised to wait for marriage. Unfortunately, I wasn't warned about the seduction of foreign guys. Gavin was from Australia and a year older than me. A few days after we met, we ended up making out on the sofa while watching Robin Hood (the Kevin Costner version). He talked me into going down on him, having no experience I don't think I did a very good job and yet he told me that I was good enough. It took me a week of making up my mind whether I would go through with it and I finally thought "I'm 20, what if this is my only chance to do this?" Gavin admitted that he had never been with a virgin before but took his time. He even stopped when I told him that it hurt, but not enough that I didn't go back again and again. We were together for nearly a year but it ended when he went back to Australia and I met someone closer to home.
I had talked to him online. He was 10 years older and in a band. I met him for dinner and drinks a few times. Since my only experience had been with Gavin, I wasn't sure how to navigate things and I'm sure that Eric waited a lot longer than most guys. He was a good guy, when we did get into bed — he taught me a lot. My friends thought that Eric was too old for me and one even joked that I must have a thing for guys with "old balls." Eric must have sensed that our age difference was an issue as well because he dumped me a month later.
After the break-up with Eric, I had a series of dates that didn't go anywhere. I got caught up in work and went back to school. While at school, I met James. He was four years older than me, had a nice car, and had a grown-up job. We slept together the first night we went out. All the stories that you hear about people meeting and feeling fireworks when they kiss someone? That's the way I felt with James. The difference between him and my previous partners is that he listened to how my body reacted to him. He took the time to find just what got me off and then kept at it. I didn't know that I could have more than one orgasm and I also made the big mistake of not telling him to wear a condom. I made an early visit to the pharmacy to get a Plan B pill. It was a stupid move on my part. I was with James for the rest of the semester and it ended when he picked up with an old girlfriend.
I dove into school work and promised not to let another guy get in the way. That was until I met Steve (here, on Nerve's dating site). Oh Steve. We met for coffee and I didn't really hit it off with him. He looked like he had rolled out of bed and didn't bother showering. To this day I have no idea why I took a late night call from him or why I even went to his house for a party. My friend went along. Drinks were had and I ended up in bed with him. It was sweaty and gross, as in, it was the worst experience ever for me. When it was over, I wasn't even sure why I had done anything with him and he was nice to make breakfast. Did I mention he was a lot older and had a child? He also would not stop talking about the importance of wearing a condom because he couldn't have another kid. I was 22 at the time and couldn't get away fast enough. He wanted to meet up again but I saw a blog post where he told a friend that he had called the wrong girl and regretted sleeping with her. I was kind of dumb and when I asked who else he had slept with, he said it had just been me.
He was my best friend and roommate's brother. He looked like a young Nic Cage and was a bartender. We hung out a lot, I was into him but wasn't sure how my friend would take it. She gave me the go-ahead but warned me that he had a lot of girls. I stupidly thought that things would be different with me. I was wrong. He didn't bring anything new to the table and I still think it was a bad idea to kick my roommate (his sister) out of the apartment. The entire time we were having sex, he kept telling me how wonderful and perfect I was and then he fell asleep inside me. We mutually ended things when he met someone else and school ended for me. I'm still good friends with his sister and he's happily married to someone a lot older than him.
I traveled a lot after school, finally got a job, and settled outside LA proper. I had started dating older guys because I wasn't connecting with guys my age and figured that maybe dating older would be a better thing for me. That was when I met Mark while on the job. He was a music producer, lived in Hollywood, and drove a fancy car. He would constantly tell me that I had all the control in the relationship even if we weren't sleeping together. We would meet up for coffee or lunch. A few months after failing to get together, we finally did, and I had sex with him at my place. I started to notice that we would go to out of the way places or he would say that traffic was bad so he had to cancel dinner plans. Finally, when I asked what the problem was, he dropped the biggest dose of information on me: he was married.
We had been friends for years. He was a film student, had lots of tattoos, and liked to drink whiskey. It was like waking up and realizing the person that you love is in front of you. The memory that I have of him and the time with him is really special to me. It wasn't perfect, but it was a memorable weekend before he left for Canada. The sex itself was just right and it felt like we were meant to be since everything fit perfectly. How could I let him go when I had finally figured out that the one I loved was right there in front of me? I felt like the world had stopped and it completely shattered me that I couldn't go with him because: what would everyone think?
It was the summer when everyone was having 55-hour marriages. I went to Vegas and got married with Seb. We barely knew each other, but we were always together and it just seemed right at the time. I was still not over Nash, but I thought that I was ready to move on. I wish I could blame being drunk but I was sober. I was nearly 26. Seb was a model/actor type. He was perfect in every way except below the belt but I wouldn't fault him for that — he was a good guy. The sex was nice, and well, missionary. Everyone was happy with him. About a month into the marriage, I started to learn that he lied about everything. I was working a lot and noticed that he was online for hours on end. He was meeting girls at the gym or when he went to modeling gigs. I was willing to make it work and overlook a lot, but when I overheard him tell a girl that he loved her on the phone, I knew it was over.
He was a client. I had done some work for him and we met up at a bar in West Hollywood. He told me he was bisexual but had never been with a guy. I didn't pay attention to anything he said because I just wanted to get it on with him. We had sex on every surface of his apartment and in the morning I woke up to him going down on me. Everything with him was pure sex. We had nothing in common and didn't pretend that it was anything more than sex. Sean told me about six months into it that he wanted to bring someone else into the equation and I wasn't sure how I felt about it, but thought I'd give it a try. I'm a firm believer in trying things at least once. Unfortunately, he didn't tell the guy that he invited into the mix. I knew that Sean and I were temporary, we parted as friends not long after that.
I failed to mention that the divorce from Seb dragged on forever. It would be a year later that it was officially over and I had started dating Mike. He was a film producer. Once again, he was flashy and smart (I made sure to ask from date one if he was married. He thought this was a strange question but said that no, he had never been married and likely would not ever get married). Mike was a few years older than me and reminded me a lot of Nash. They had gone to the same college but didn't know each other.
I like to think of Mike as the "mood" guy. He set the atmosphere (lighting, music/movie, and wine). Once when we were mid-coitus, he stopped to change a Radiohead cd. I had never known anyone to put that much attention to detail and also had not known anyone that was so invested in oils and KY. Sex with Mike was like something out of an issue of Cosmo (he had a subscription). Things were good but personally, I started to want to figure out what I wanted and decided that I need to put the breaks on things. The divorce had taken a lot out of me and I knew it wasn't fair to Mike. I ended things to focus on me. He respected how I felt and I always look back on the time with him as a good time in a really shitty moment in my life.