Being someone’s first

December 6, 2014 § 1 Comment

I’ve never had sex with a virgin. But apparently now I’ve dry humped one.

This weekend was the girl’s big night out, where we were headed to an allegedly gorgeous man’s house party in Bath. We arrived appropriately tispy (barely able to stand) and over an hour late. Best. Guests. Ever.

However that turned out not to matter, because this huge party turned out to have the total number of guests as you’d find men at a fifty shades of grey screening with no ulterior motives whatsoever. My friend who’d dragged me responded to this as any sane person was, by continuing to drown her sorrows in vodka soda lime and trailing behind the well-formed host. I was well on my way to joining her, when I got to talking to Ahmed. Ahmed was a very beautiful second year student, and I liked him immediately.

However, our conversation soon revealed that Ahmed was extremely religious, having been brought up by strict Muslim parents. He had never drunk alcohol, or even kissed a girl before.

Usually this is a red flag right? But how often do you meet a sober, chaste university student, who isn’t wearing a What Would Jesus Do satchel and the personality of a fish? Not often. I wouldn’t have known he was a religious-nut until we got onto the subject. Usually this puts me off, I don’t want to get involved in all these moral judgementy conversations, especially not with my lifestyle. But Ahmed was extremely interesting. Despite his background, he was very open to discussing my experiences and how they differed from him. I was getting a good vibe. So I went for it.

We’d spoken about my view on relationships a little, so he knew I wasn’t exactly looking to settle down. This reassured me that by kissing him he wasn’t really expecting anything from me, though the alcohol may have been partially responsible for that decision…

I wasn’t trying to pressure him, and told him repeatedly not to do anything he didn’t want to, or felt uncomfortable doing. Somehow that didn’t stop us from retreating to the bedroom, a much more appropriate setting than the constant stares of the three other people at the party. He was a surprisingly good kisser.

It was obviously quite intense for him, never having done anything before. A weird situation I wasn’t expecting to find myself in at university of all places, but I quite liked the feeling of being his first, despite only having just met him. A compliment if ever there was one.

We exchanged numbers and he headed home, still a little jittery from the experience, bless him. I’m not sure why I get off on being the more experienced person. I couldn’t do it long term (been there, got the T-shirt, burned it), but for a night of frivolity it’s pretty good fun.

In other news, black Friday sales = cheap vibrators, so I’m coming to terms with the lack of Frank’s length. Though, God do I miss it. This dirty little package better hurry the fuck up.

Want more disgustingly honest renditions of the mess that I call my lovelife? Come join me on Facebook and Twitter.


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