First-time fiasco: Losing my virginity wasn't like a fairytale; it was much funnier

A friend once said to me “My first time [having sex] was perfect. It was amazing!”

After I wiped the happy off my face, I thought back to my first time. I wouldn’t describe it quite the same way my friend did.

I was 16, and I had been with my boyfriend, we’ll call him Tom, for three months. His mother was going out of town, and I was to be a houseguest. By 10 o’clock, we had nuded up, and I laid down on his futon, which was stuck in couch position.

Tom held himself up over me by planting his palms just above my shoulders on the mattress. After some preliminary “Does that hurt?” we began serious advancements. He was just easing in when his left hand slipped across the gauzy futon mattress cover. His weight fell into me, and I was full up of Tom’s Johnson. Losing your virginity is painful, even at a slow, steady pace. But to go from “Just the tip, OK?” to our hip bones mashed together is blindingly painful. He immediately replaced his hand, but neglected to remove himself from inside me.

Before I could make a conscious decision, my body responded. My leg bent up to my body and swung under his propped up torso, then shot out straight into his chest like a cannonball. He flew backwards like a cartoon, complete with wall collision.

Tom and I stayed together awhile longer and laughed every time we thought of it. And really, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. First times are awkward and painful; it gives the sexually active a realistic view of sex. All I can remember was laughing once we were done. So my first time was definitely not a fairytale, which I'm very happy to report.

— Nikki Todorow