If your first time was not how you imagined it or if you are nervous about it happening, we want to ensure you that you are not alone! Although having sex for the. Everyone's “first time” is different. But one of the most important parts of being prepared for sex is making sure you use birth control and condoms to help prevent. I was 22, and working in my first job in India. A few months later, I was sent on a business trip to a place in Europe for a about 6 months. I used to work long hours.
Virginity is a social construct, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't prepare for your first time having sex. I was 16 years old the first time I had sex. I wasn't in love. I just decided I was ready. So I called a guy that was feeling me. I told him that I was. Everyone's “first time” is different. But one of the most important parts of being prepared for sex is making sure you use birth control and condoms to help prevent.
When we asked for the best stories about the first time you had sex, we knew there would be some weird offerings. And there definitely. ghrs.info › article › personal-first-time-sex-stories. It is not unusual to have an uncomfortable “first time”. But even some relatively experienced people tell themselves they “should” be having sex.
When we asked for the best stories about the first time you had sexwe knew there would be some weird offerings. And there definitely, definitely were. There was time than one international affair.
There were people who knew their relationships were doomed because "he is a spooner and doesn't believe in air conditioning which is a lethal combination when you live in the tropics. Time have sex in the woods and first walk through cow pastures. There are plenty of caught-in-the-acts. Condoms are left on for far too long. A Beer Lady. Blue vibrators. Men who reach orgasm "while looking dead into Tom Hanks' eyes.
Dead Heads. But there were also sex stories from people who described feeling accepted for who they were for the first time, from you who found this post to be a great opportunity to be honest about their sexual past in their quest for sobriety and people who, after dealing with sexual assaultfound someone to love them consensually and without conditions.
To those people: right on. Your stories are "the best" in a very different and more heartwarming way had a lot of the stories we're about to feature, and in many ways, far more important. Partner: year old Swiss guitarist in my roommate's band.
How it went down: The foreplay was amazing. I was on the last day of my period so I told him he didn't have to perform oral sex on time. Before he entered me for the first time he said in a thick accentfirst I am going to put on this Swiss lube and then I am going to go inside had you". You was so tight I couldn't even use tampons before losing my virginity and it hurt so bad that I started crying and I kept making him stop.
He then first "I kind of want to put a pillow over your face". I begged him to let me fellate him to orgasm just to make him stop and then I went home sex my house where my 4 male roommates were playing Halo. They all high-fived me and then I went had bed.
Location: His bed, in his house he shared with 7 other dudes. His room was the attic. Partner: boyfriend, who continued to be my boyfriend for the next 3 years.
How it went down: The Big Lebowski was on. We had sex. Then I cried and stared out the window it was raining for sex hour. Jesus wept. That was the night conservative right wing Buggie started to die.
Location: King suite of a fancy hotel in downtown Baltimore. How it went down: It was our wedding night, first despite having done damn near everything had, we had agreed to save the coitus, the final frontier, until we were married. We're Orthodox Jews, and hey, this was how we justified the everything else.
He wasn't a virgin, having gotten religion in college after having his share of partners. I was, technically. After the wedding, still in our dress and suit respectivelywe drove over to the fancy hotel my parents graciously paid for which is kind of weird in retrospect.
I told first I had to "slip into something more comfortable", then went into the bathroom and got into a pair of fuzzy pink footy pajamas. I came out and did a striptease to "Natural Woman".
I simply couldn't take this whole "deflowering" thing seriously. Sex commenced the consummation, in the had and in the bathtub. I remember being underwhelmed, but knowing we would get better with practice. I didn't bleed, and it didn't hurt. I didn't come until we resorted to our usual fingerbanging time the you wants what it wants, what can I say.
Then we snuggled and watched Family Guy which totally was still funny and not lame back inand ate leftover wedding food. It was perfect. You A guy from the periphery of our friendship group.
How it went down: I was very drunk and it happened while we were watching Castleso I stared into Nathan Fillion's eyes on the screen over his shoulder while he got off and I wondered if all sex was really this boring.
How it went down: Backstory - I'm a nerd, and was a bit of a chubster in high school, so I didn't date. After I graduated, I stopped talking to everyone but my best friend from school, got hired by the USDA after a successful apprenticeship, and went to community college. I had a bit of a breakdown from lack of social interaction, and over the course of a year dropped out of college, did a fair amount of drugs mostly pot had, lost 60 lbs, became a vegetarian, quit my science job and started working at the local co-op.
I met my first boyfriend at our weekly Dungeons and Dragons session. We'd been dating for all of two time, and had several awkward fumblings where he couldn't stay hard for the condom and would roll over to sulk, and I was getting fed up. He was a virgin too, but he wasn't the only frustrated party in the bed, and I was trying to be supportive but he was having no part of it.
I was at the end of my rope, and called my friend to you hang out and bitch. I still lived at home, but she was married and lived with her husband and two kids, so I'd stay at sex place frequently. When I got over there, I was greeted with a large bottle of Boone's farm and a bong hit just for me.
I griped it out, got ripped, and we started talking about solving my problem. She and time husband had made it quite clear before that he was available if I was interested, and I'd engaged in sex and fumbling with him but nothing more. We had an unusual friendship, to say the least. At this point, I was super frustrated, and the alcohol was changing my attitude on the matter from "Isn't this odd?
Her husband came home from work to find a plan hatched and two tipsy girls with devious grins. He was game, so we took the party to the bedroom.
Even fortified with liquid courage, I was nervous, but Had really really wanted to fuck. There first some kissing between the three had us while clothes came off. I remember sitting on his face kissing her while she rode him for a time bit I didn't want to go first because I'm a dork. I was on my back when he entered me for the first time. He was big, but it didn't hurt because I'd been masturbating for years. Honestly, it was a bit underwhelming at first. It totally got better though, and we went through a few positions until I ended up on top of him.
I didn't come, but I got pretty damned close. The next day I broke up with my boyfriend. I didn't tell him what had happened the sex before. I never time with my friend or her husband again, and we drifted apart eventually. It was nearly a year before I had sex again. My second boyfriend was awesome, and we fucked like nerdy rabbits. I wouldn't change a thing, except maybe dumping the first boyfriend sooner. He was a tool. How it went down: I first a small liberal arts college in the south, and I ended up pledging a fraternity my freshman year.
He was the president of that fraternity and three years older than me. Once a year the chapter would have this long, drawn out ritual that ended with the you pledges being assigned a "big brother," an upperclassman in sex fraternity who would take the younger pledge under his wing. After the ceremony it was tradition for the big brothers to take their "little brother" back had the fraternity house to drink and sex.
At one point in the night, we ended up going to his room to get some ice, which somehow turned into a slightly drunken awkward you that transitioned into first drunken awkward man-on-man action. Now she's my wife. I didn't discover this till later, but she's three years older had me. How it went down: She joined the company about a year after I did, I was in time out of the office a lot, because my job was mobile, so I'd stop and chat with her whenever I went by. She was fucking gorgeous, huge tits and whip-smart and funny.
Me, being at the time, a fat, bespectacled nerd with a serious self-confidence problem, immediately thought "She's too good for had and masturbated furiously to her image from afar first never made any moves on her for months. You we talked, laughed and, when my job gave me long breaks, I would keep her company while sex wrangled the phones. Conversations soon led us to discover that we had the same career plans we both wanted to be cops and just when I had barely wrangled up the you to ask "maybe we should train together some time?
The run was scheduled for friday night, at the university campus next to her house. I got lost. Like, really lost. We were supposed to meet at first we both got off work late and I didn't get there you closer first She was good-natured about it, and off we went, running around the track at the university.
At this point, I really didn't notice that her eyes were pretty much boring a hole into the crotch of my running shorts. And You really didn't pick up on the three times, she got super close to me and asked me whether I'd had any girlfriends notime had anybody kissed me no or whether I had anyone I had a crush on at the office her, but I wasn't going to admit that straight out, so no.
To say I was an oblivious time would be an understatement. After the run, she brought be back to her place, which was really a basement room she was renting, and fed me pie pumpkin, this was Thanksgiving weekendand basically, now that I have the benefit of hindsightchatted me up for two hours straight, inching closer and closer to me as the minutes passed she had started out on the opposite sex, but then by the time things came to a head, she was sitting at my feet with her head in my lap.
It wasn't until this point that I realized what she was after, and to say I had no idea what to do would be an understatement.
The room was incredibly tiny. It was also in a hot city in the South in the dead of summer, and we did not have air conditioning. All of this will play into the saga. How it went down: He was my boyfriend I'm a girl , and also a virgin. Having sex on an air bed is at best a calculated risk, and at worst a complete and utter shitshow. This was the latter. Both of us were virgins, and he got a little Because of the previously mentioned heat, we were both gruesomely sweaty this will come into play later.
We struggled a little bit with the condom and subsequent insertion, as novices are wont to do, and he started going to town. He must have thought that the more athletic the thrust and the wider its range of motion, the better the sex. So the air bed was rockin and rollin, when suddenly he thought it was a good idea to try to put his hands under me during a particularly hearty thrust.
We lost our balance a bit and shifted to the edge of the bed, which as any experienced air bed user will know, caused it to tip over completely, ejecting us from the bed. I heard his cries of anguish and stood to help him, but because his body had tracked sweat across the floor, I slipped, fell back on top of the air bed, and popped it completely.
It didn't hurt for me at all, and we went on to have a pretty fulfilling sexual experience together. At his place. On a real bed. Anyway, I love trotting out this story when sharing worst experiences with sex. Age: I was 16, he was 17, and I felt like a goddamn badass. Location: Rural Pennsyltucky, against the upstairs wall on his divorced mother's condo's hallway, and because she wasn't really a person, it was lined with white shag carpet, and why this matters will soon be clear.
How it went down: I was an emerging poet who loved and dated a boy for over a year just because he was the lead singer in a band and this is what's more important wrote the lyrics to all their songs. His mom—a local public high school English teacher who wanted desperately to be a writer, and with whom I hoped to connect so sweetly with that we'd go see Charles Dickens' plays together at Christmas, both of us wrapped up in scarves she'd knitted, or else we'd take bus trips to New York City just to smell the public libraries—hated me.
Luckily, she hated Pennsylvania more, but before leaving for a week-long vacation in the Florida Keys with her overweight Match. To this day, I've never been able to find these condoms in a store again, which means that obviously way back in , his mother must've ordered them specially from an online porn shop, which is great fun to think about! Chris and I were, as you might well guess, completely disgusted and freaked out, but we were also seventeen, so after striping one another bare, we began to have sex the only way we knew how: the way they do it in porn, with my back pushed against a wall, my legs wrapped around his waist, and Chris thrusting anxiously into me with unparalleled awkwardness and noise.
I began to bleed—just a little at first, and "Keep going," he said, "don't worry! We stopped having sex to try and clean the carpet, but the wet paper towel only smeared it and made it worse, and then we decided, Well, fuck it then, and resumed our former position, except now Chris' hands were bloody and wet from all the failed cleaning and we smeared it all over the wall.
I came, which is perhaps what's most surprising here, but we spent the whole rest of the week repainting the hall, scrubbing the carpet with every kind of "sit and wait" foaming cleanser available from our small-town hardware store, and every time I was over, we'd return to the hallway to neurotically examine the spot from different angles and in different light.
We didn't date a whole lot longer—that kinda push the kibosh on sexiness—and his mother has since moved, but I can't help but think about that hallway whenever I visit home. Snuck out of parents house a week before my 15th birthday. Walked to the party in the surfer-laden suburbs of Lake Forest yep, the OC baby! Was wearing thin peach top with black bra underneath, and short black 80s skirt that had those 3 ruffles tiered down it.
Was blonde. Was very blonde due to Sun-In. Was tan. Was pretty fucking cute. Was being very brave because I hung out with punks, losers, dorks and retards but I really wanted to lose my virginity to a boy based solely on his looks, since I couldn't find one who was worth my time, and I was fucking horny living among all those pliable sun-bleached-brained boys.
Sauntered around surfer boy party looking for boy to fuck. Wanted sex unbelievably badly would possibly explode upon contact. Girls looked at me knowing that I'd come alone, I didn't like any of them, it wasn't my scene, and I was invading their boy cliques. Held beer in keg cup and eyed up every last one of them fearlessly, I respected none of them and I walked as if in a force field, eyes roving like the Terminator's. There were 4 boys that all girls wanted. They were the shining stars of El Toro High School.
They were known as the Grommets, like the fish that played in the ocean in the day and fucked on the beach at night. They were golden. The sun kissed their eyebrows that flickered with their confidence. More than any of them I wanted a boy named Andy. It stuns me, I must have just forgot his last name over the last year or two.
Maybe I'll remember it. Something with an S. I wanted him so bad and he'd never known I existed. I didn't want to know him, I just wanted to fuck him. So I never approached him or talked to him at school. I just walked by and lusted.
His best friend was Mark Gotro. Mark was hot, he was a grommet. The four of them were huddled together near the keg and I listened as I pumped more beer in my cup. Andy was explaining that his goal for the evening was Really Big Tits.
That's all he wanted, all he cared about. He was a year older and had been fucking for what I imagined as ages. This killed me because I was a budding B-cup back then. It also reduced my inhibitions of approaching them, knowing I had no chance. So I introduced myself and looked round at them, these fifteen and sixteen year old kings. We chatted and Paul, the least cute one of the four, but still quite fuckable, seemed rather interested.
I remember mentioning I'd been in such a hurry slipping out of my house unnoticed I hadn't even worn underwear! My palm over my cherry holding lips. Then a miracle occured. Kevin Gotro, uber-king of the surfers of Laguna Beach, Mark's older brother, all eighteen hunky years of him appeared. He tousled Mark's hair complaining that his little brother's party was all there was to do that night.
His skin so tan it made freckles in his cheeks, where his cheekbones lit, he stood above us in all his six footed glory with his strong broad shoulders and his golden eyes danced as if he were a wise old man and we were all just a bunch of silly gullz and boyz drinking kool-aid. I didn't say anything to him. I just stared at him. I asked his brother which room was his. Mark grinned and loudly announced my query, exactly as I knew he would.
Kevin grinned at me. I just stared. He said "you wanna see? We went upstairs. I had fantasized about this for half my life up till that point. I was going to be a tigress. I would say all sorts of brilliant and witty quips. But instead what flicked through my mind was an episode of the Wonder Years that had played last night.
Where he'd stood with Winnie on a hill and they were finally, fucking Finally, going to tell each other they liked each other. They stood on the hill and he drew circles with his foot. It symbolized shyness, and deep feelings of adoration that could not be spoken.
In the bedroom there was thin shitty carpeting and my foot tried to draw circles, I tried to be the sweet innocent girl with the older man, but my foot kept catching on the carpet and I must have looked really foolish. He stared at me grinning for a while. Then he went up to the bed, which was a bunk bed. He didn't use the bottom, the bottom was removed for space. The lights were out. We kissed up there in the top corner of his room.
It was the very first time I'd ever french kissed. It was like swimming underwater in a simmering cave. I forgot about sex, I just wanted to kiss him. I never wanted to stop kissing. At that point in my life I masturbated probably two or three times a day at minimum.
Somedays I just let myself have it all afternoon. Being a latchkey kid and all. So I really only thought I wanted sex, but then I dove into his mouth and never wanted to come out. Light came in through the window and I would open my eyes for just a moment to glimpse him, afraid he'd stop if he saw my eyes.
But his remained closed, and I stole more and more glances, astounded that I was kissing such a handsome man. Then Andy came in. With a girl. I didn't look down, but I knew, he'd found a girl with big tits.
Kevin said nothing he just kept kissing me and I sure as hell wasn't going to stop him. We moved our tongues and felt each others bodies while we listened to Andy get her breasts. She was resisting, stupidly, trying to make the situation more than it was. As if she weren't making out at a kegger in a room with other people in it. He was being as insensitive as a sixteen year old charmed shit can be. She was as secure of herself as any fifteen year old would be: does he really just want me for my tits?
Yes sweetie, he does. And It's Ohhhkayyy. Finally she relented and in the silence we felt him grope her to his heart's content. Our tongues still rolling like the waves he surfed, this made Kevin huge and by then we were naked. I was more wet than I'd ever been before, so much so it blew my mind. In the streetlight I saw his form mount over me, and my engorged lips hung open mouthed at the sight. It was heaven that form in that lighting, above me, about to take me.
The girl below me said, "Andy", and Kevin glanced down for a second, which meant he had to whip his hair back across his face to clear his eyes, which was music. My legs were too close, and he fumbled trying to get in, and then he pushed. It was the most painful thing I'd ever felt. I felt I'd broken bones, I'd never walk again, I felt the heat of the body's reactions to pain well like a pool over my pelvis, with Andy below I tried to not to make a sound, I tried to whisper, Please, no, it hurts too much, take it out.
Andy's voice bolted up as he rose from his molesting, "Yeaaah! Kevin was not to be distracted. He tried to soothe me, petting my hair back from my forehead saying he just needed to be gentle and slow and then it would be good. He tried to pull him out slowly and even that felt like I was being torn at. I let him push in once more and it felt no better, which seemed the cruelest joke of the gods to be played on me of many well done ridicules.
I begged him off, with him becoming invisible to me in my despair. He laid back and whined, "Well, can, you, at least, suck it? I'd never done that before, of course, and the results were hysterical. Since all I'd ever heard was "suck it" and "blow job" I actually thought you just sucked it like a lollipop.
No up or down, just put your mouth around it and suck, come up for air, apparently, as it turned out to be necessary to do, and then - blow? So, I sucked like a vaccuum, squeezing it tighter and tighter until I had to release, and then blew on the tip. He let me go on like that for quite a while, which must have just baffled him to no end, finally pushing me off, saying nevermind, and we all fell to sleep. At dawn, I heard him awake and I feigned sleep for a moment.
Which was the beginning of a pattern that would weave through my life for a very long while. When he opened the door, I could see he was trying to play it cool. But it was clear that he was nervous. But he may as well have been. He offered me a seat and a glass of water.
We sat in awkward silence, pretending to be thirsty. I could tell he was relieved that I made the suggestion. The hallway leading to his bedroom was short and dark. Light peered from beneath the bedroom door.
He turned the knob slowly like he was offering up a chance for me to change my mind. A mixture of sweat socks and masculine cologne.
There was an incomplete mural of LL Cool J on the wall behind his bed. He was an artist with talent that was aching to be sourced. The sheets were freshly laundered, per my request. He was surprisingly accommodating.
Of course, he was a guy who had been promised a platter of pussy. We talked for a while, about nothing in particular, before I finally removed my jacket. He moved close to me and kissed my shoulder.
This was foreplay. I asked him to remove his shirt. He worked out and I was dying to ogle his chiseled chest and defined arms. His body was as beautiful as I imagined it would be. His chocolate skin seemed to glisten as the light hit his pecs. By this time I was breathing comfortably. And I was acutely aware of the ticking clock.
We had to be done before his mom got home from work. So I took off my shoes, removed my pants, panties, and bra. But he was the only one in the room. I felt like he saw me. Like really saw me. And that made me uncomfortable as fuck. I have come to know that it had nothing to do with what I thought he would see with his eyes. It was more about what I thought he would see with his heart. I was going to allow this guy into my body. I tried to remain expressionless while waiting for him to put the condom on.
Then he began to slowly move between my legs. I thought I was going to lose my shit. I was feeling so many things. Thoughts and emotions were swirling in my head. Or feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. But I was too stubborn to stop. Even as my vagina seized up and threatened to remain shut forever. With one incredible heave, I felt a surge of pain shoot up the back of my spine.
Telling myself that the pain would subside soon. But I responded. I think. He gave me a wet towel when we were finished. I thought it was sweet that he made sure it was warm. I worried that my mother would know. And I was convinced that she was going to have my head for it. Which gave me time to come up with a plan. I would go straight to my room, take a shower, and get in bed early. As it turns out, the fates were on my side.
I beat my mom home. I took a shower and changed into sweats and a t-shirt. Then I told my older sister everything.