to tiggy
*I'M* Andrew from Braishfield! ;)
(wez, Wed 1 Nov 2006, 10:06, Reply)

I can't work out

why I'm a virgin. BUY A SOCIALIST WORKER!
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Wed 1 Nov 2006, 10:04, Reply)

Chesty
Dammit. They did have emo back then. Proper emo. Not this pop crap myspace is feeding you. Not that I care. How did you not know that was a proposition?

Anywho - I was once asked if I'd like a cock shoved up my arse. I politely declined. I still have my brown wings to this day. A great big dirty stinking brown V.
(Alexxx It wasn't me, Wed 1 Nov 2006, 8:35, Reply)

What is it with the women in these stories
Seriously why are there so many heartless wenches? There is a pretty clear theme beginning to present itself here of "My girlfriend wouldn't have sex with me because she wasn't ready for sex or wanted to get married first but then it turned out she was in fact shagging someone else the whole time/went out with my best friend straight afterwards and screwed his brains out" I mean really that is the absolute height of cruelty. As far as I know this has never happened to me but I swear I want to cry for the sakes of the poor souls to whom this HAS happened, just hearing about it.

Honestly, girls there are many of us men who've been accused of insensitivity and while I definitely don't want to get into any kind of gender debate, I've got to ask, what's with this tactic? I mean have these people really done something so terrible that they deserve THAT? That kind of thing could drive me to the razorblade.

It's not that refusing sex for one guy and not to another is the cruel part so much as the refusing it for these moralistic reasons and having men kind enough to support you in this vain and then throwing it back in their face in such a horrible horrible way I just can't understand it, so if anyone wants to be a spokesperson for the women in these stories and explain it to me I'd surely listen.
(StumpsForArms&NoEyebrows, Wed 1 Nov 2006, 7:12, Reply)

I tried, honestly!
"Although I suppose lack of orgasm does not really constitute lack of losing virginity, sorry."

Then technically, all the women I've slept with who were virgins before me, still are :\
(chalmo, Wed 1 Nov 2006, 5:25, Reply)

Catholic School Girls Rule
I was 17 at an all boys boarding school. Me & my mates would go out with some girls from an all girls boarding school - usual stuff at that age.

Anyway one weekend I find myself asking my gf's house mistress if I could stay the night as I was up from home (after exams). No problem, I was a charming young man & could stay in the day girl's room. This room was opposite the house mistress' in a very old & creaky building.

My gf & I had agreed that I should wait until the house mistress had gone to bed & creep up to her room. I kept waiting & waiting until I was 100% sure that the coast was clear. It was a difficult journey & involved trying to walk on pipes rather than floorboards that made too much noise. There was also a point of no return when I went past the bogs & lost that excuse of being out & about.

Managed to get to her room, had to wake her up. The condom I had had been a gift but I didn't realise the industrial strength to it's thickness.

I couldn't feel a thing, jiggy jiggy for ages, become absolutely knackered, fake an orgasm & roll off.

Although I suppose lack of orgasm does not really constitute lack of losing virginity, sorry.
(Baron Greenback Still in Sunny Singapore, Wed 1 Nov 2006, 4:05, Reply)

chesty

"If only they had had emo back then..."

every time you say that, you make Robert Smith cry.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Wed 1 Nov 2006, 4:01, Reply)

sadly, it was wasted on me.

I had a visit to the physiotherapist today, a handsome young man who at one point told me to take off my pants, because he wanted to have a feel of my inner thigh.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Wed 1 Nov 2006, 1:44, Reply)

Showing your bits ??
I was living on the Isle of Wight and this family came to stay with us - his name was Andrew,and we were the same age I think, about 14, anyway he says he wants to kiss me and I say well, no, I dont know you that well (what a stupid expression that is now)then he says can I look at your bits, and I say NO WAY but on reflection I should have because I fancied him big time.........never seen him again. Andrew from Braishfield or Ampfield near Romsey if you are out there and your Dad took on my Mum & Dad's Labradors please get in touch. (no connection to the dogs and sex BTW you sick bastards)
( Tiggy the diver, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 23:02, Reply)

Too late to explain now
I was drunk and so, so desperate to lose it. She was quite large, and absolutely gagging for it ( also v.drunk). Cutting it short, we were just starting proceedings when she announced "I'm used to someone a bit bigger!" - FLUMP!
Turns out she meant her last bloke was about 18 stone, but it was too late for me.
( hargreaves, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 21:46, Reply)

Thank god...
I was 14 and she was 13. She claimed that she was older than me (we didn't go to the same school) and also claimed to have had sex 'many times'.

I had the great idea that if i got a condom i could shag her in the woods near her home (even though it was not the dream scenario).
When i produced the condom (stolen from my brother) and told her of my idea she began to cry because she was scared and she admitted she had lied her arse off about her previous experiences and was a rock solid virgin.

My plan failed and soon we split up as teenagers do, but thank fuck for that with heinsight as i would be desperatly sick now if i had lost my virginity at the age and in those circumstances!
(svenenuponwherepops, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 21:06, Reply)

Nooooooo. Please someone help me!
Aged 14/15 I was really quite a cool younger brother and my 17/18 yo sister and her mates used to take me out with them every now and then cos I was too cool to have friends (I don't think Cornwall was ready for the asymmetrical haircut à la Human League at the time).

One summer, when the parents had toddled off to France for a holiday, my sister and her mates were going off to Helston for the annual festival, which is just about the only thing of note that ever happens down there, and invited me to go along with them.

Fairy muff says I and we pile into the car and we head off to Helston to commence with imbibing the obligatory Spingo from the Blue Anchor along with some speed of dubious provenance and efficacy.

End of the night and, due to sis having met extra mates there, we realise there are too many people to all get back to ours in the car in one go, so my sister's going to have to drop some off to start with and go back for the rest.

Obviously, with it being our house and my sister having to return to pick others up, I'm going to have to go back in the first batch. Sister's mate Vicky promptly (and somewhat suspiciously) volunteers to also go back first which will leave enough room on the second run for everyone else.

Cutting an already long story short, sister drops Vicky and I at the house and drives off with promises that she'll be no longer than 30 mins. Fine, no problem...until Vicky starts trying to be a little too familiar.

My sister eventually returns (having met a bloke and decided NOT to return immediately as promised) and I'm finally safe from Vicky's scarily forward advances, having had to spend the last 3 hours fending her off by playing Stay Alive (The Ultimate Survival Game).

It wasn't that I wasn't ready, I was desperate to lose my virginity. Just not THAT desperate.

Yes I probably was a bit spotty, but that was what the long hair was for.
(si-mong, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 20:57, Reply)

Why, oh why?
It's first year of university (went to an all boys secondary school, V plates still well and truly on) and I'm a volunteer at the student union setting up sound and lighting kit most nights of the week and generally having a laugh.

One night we'd finished setting up early on and I ended up sitting in the quieter of the three bars with just three female members of the 'union crowd'. Somehow and I'm not entirely sure how (but no alcohol was involved) I was sat on a chair being rubbed, tickled and generally molested by these 3 beauties.

Eventually it's time to de-rig the technical stuff and I stop to get the work done. Afterwards we're standing in the foyer chatting before going home and one of said beauties puts her arm through mine and says 'So I guess I'm sleeping in your bed tonight'.

I'd heard rumours that she was a bit of an animal in bed and enjoyed doing all manner of dirty, dirty things so I'm still not entirely sure why I said 'I've forgotten to put the amp stack away, I'll be right back', bolted out of the back door and sprinted back to my room in halls and spent the rest of the week wondering why on Earth I'd been so stupid.

A few weeks later I heard that she'd been going out with a bit of a psycho for a while and I counted myself lucky that I'd not lost my virginity in return for a battering...

Still, a few months later I met the woman of my dreams who is, 10 years down the line, my wife :)
(numbersix, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 20:46, Reply)

Youth orchestra tours
You're probably all groaning at the prospect of another band camp story from me, but never mind.

His name was Matthew. He was beautiful. A year older than me (I was 15), went to a posh school. We got chatting in the bar, I suggested that we "go for a walk", he accepted.

I should add at this point that I wasn't really particularly "interested" in him - the main reason for suggesting our "walk" was so that I could score some more points for the cello section. You see, we had this scoring system ranging from 1-6.

1 - basic snog
2 - snog + grope
3 - same as 2 but with infiltration of brassiere
4 - hand job
5 - blow job
6 - full sex

If you pulled, it was known as "joining the cricket team".

Anyway, according to plan Matthew and I ended up snogging on his bed, and to this day he is the best kisser I've ever had. It was just amazing...we had perfect chemistry. I also started to realise what a nice boy he was, what a good friend, how comfortable I felt with him, what a prize imbecile I'd been not paying him any attention before.

Unfortunately, just as things were getting interesting, Matt's roommate crashed in and passed out on the bed. Bastard. But we got our own backs by painting his nails pink. Ha ha.

The following day of course, I decided that having a boyfriend wasn't the best course of action seeing as I was fifteen and very silly and just wanted to snog as many different boys as possible, so I gave him the cold shoulder. It took a few weeks to get rid of him but finally he got the message and started going out with one of my friends instead.

A few months after that it suddenly hit me what a complete and utter moron I'd been, turning down a boy who was utterly perfect for me in every way. There are so few attractive, stable, suitable men there are out there - and I turned one of them down cos I didn't want to pass up the opportunity for the odd drunken snog outside a pub with some bloke I just met. Mental.

Matthew - if you're reading this, come back for a last jaunt with the EYO cricket team. We've still got four runs to go!
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 19:58, Reply)

Solution!
Never Fear Spotty ones, I have a line that is sure to work, if all else fails. Fallow this scenario.

----

You: Hello Miss, could I buy you a drink?
Miss: no thanks..
You No problem...sorry to bother, but I do have another question if you don't mind.
Miss: Alright What is it?
You: Does this rag smell of Chloroform to you?
Miss: .......'THUD'.......

-----------

Succes is Absolute!
(Nihlistic_Alchemist Brand the Herd with Fashion, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 19:38, Reply)

When I was 16
I ran in to a girl I went to primary school with ( I actually "married" her when we were eight ). Her parents were away that weekend and she was having a party so I was invited. End of the night as everyone was leaving she invites me to stay, grabs my hand and starts to head upstairs.

That scared the shit out of me and I went home instead. I never heard from her again.
( CowJam, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 18:52, Reply)

Smoking is bad for you
Having lost mine sometime previous, my 19th year was mostly spent trying to relieve my lady of the time of hers. Despite many attempts and near misses I would always end up driving home bent double in agony trying to avoid getting my knob caught in the steering wheel. It turned out that the main barrier was it being her parent's living room and she just couldn't bring herself to let go whilst they were upstairs asleep (sensitive soul that she was).

The opportunity to stay over at a house party appeared and it seemed that all was set fine for the night. My persistence had paid off and she seemed genuinely resigned to the fact that this would be the night of nights (my rampant horniness overcoming any hint of guilt about her mild reluctance).

A few beers into the party, sitting on the sofa, puffing the obligatory cigarette and flicking the ash into an empty can. All going well. I put the cigarette into the can to put it out in the dregs only to see that the damn thing is still alight. Before I could even engage my brain I picked up the can and blew into it - sending sparks and ash into both my eyes. Now this stang like a bastard and I spent the next two hours washing out fag ash from my puffy red eyes, cursing the world for its cruelty. Needless to say I didn't get to do any popping that night, and in time honoured fashion she allowed another bloke to sort out her virginity two weeks later. When I asked her why she replied 'I just got fed up saying 'no' all the time'. Fine words indeed.

There was no length due to the stinging eyeball. Apologies for mild off-topicness.
(tell me about the rabbits, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 16:50, Reply)

Queef
Hmm had a strange relationship with girl when I was 16,17 I think. To look at her, she was a punk, she smoked fags, had a green dyed mohican etc, but she was actually a shy prude. She was big on 68s, her doing the major owing. Not once goddamit.

Anyway, she had this really weird habit of, whilst I was fingering her, writing notes indicating her current sexual state. She'd write things like 'I went out with a 21 y.o. and I didn't let him do things like that', 'ooh, that's naughty, don't stop' etc.

So..I.. well, thought we'd take it one step further, in the hope of getting my cock played with at all..so I got a nodder on, started fingering her, when she let out an almighty rip-snorting fanny fart. She was mortified, I was amazed, I'd never heard one do that before!
A week or so later, I dribbled a couple of ccs into a johnny. Hmm losing your virginity. Over rated. But you've got to start somewhere :)
(Countryslicker, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 16:30, Reply)

Emma
stupid stupid stupid.

I turned down several big chances over the course of 4 weeks. She got the fear in me good. And then we went our separate ways and she boned a fat lad in his mini metro every night until she had to stop because of the bruises on her knees from the window winder.

1. Her cabin bed wobbled and made noise. her parents were in the front room downstairs directly beneath. And her dad was a teacher.
2. Orally, she tried to slice and peel my manhood. I tried to play "keep it down" which she understandably thought was weird. i couldn't tell her to not use her teeth as i was 17 and scared of losing my bell end for good.
3. She had chicken nugget breath.

She tried and tried, and i got more and more scared of her parents and being disfigured in the name of pleasure.

It died, she told everyone i was frigid - i took it like a man as it would be really embarassing for her to tell the truth.

It was later i found she plucked her dads chest hairs whilst they watched TV. freaky.

Trouble is, i missed out on some supreme breasts, a filthy filthy mind and she could do the splits.

Still now she enters my dreams. i could have had it all. it was offered. and i declined.

it was 18 months later it did pop. And bizarrely another emma took it. if only she didn't have a fanjita like a bucket it may have helped the situation for us both!

ah well, alls well that ends well.
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Tue 31 Oct 2006, 15:37, Reply)

"Ladies and Gentleman, can I have your attention please..."
You can picture the scene - a young (albeit 18 year old) lad wanting to finally seal the deal with his ladyfriend, with the only stumbling block being acquiring condoms. "No problem", thought I, as I was going to the pub with a mate the night before, so I would pop into the bogs, make sure I was alone and get some.

Unfortunately, I must've bought the previous round with change rather than a note, because when I arrived at the machine I realised I was a quid short. Slightly annoyed with myself, I reasoned that I could borrow a quid off my mate and have another go. Of course, it doesn't exactly take a rocket scientist to work out why you mate asks you for a quid giving his current 'social situation', so he says no and starts laughing. I can live with that.

What I can't live with is him telling the barman, who decided to start a bit of an appeal for me via the PA system usually reserved for the Saturday night quiz. You don't need it.

Never did get any in the end. Or a shag.
(titusyouclown, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 15:37, Reply)

I'm amazed I forgot this one. It came up in conversation yesterday and I had to add it
My friend Mark (named changed to protect the filthy bugger) has Crohns Disease. Now, for those of you who don't know of the disease, it causes ulcers on the digestive system. Peristalsis then hurts. A lot.
Anyway it comes and goes in waves, and my friend Mark was in the middle of a bad patch. Every time he ate he was in agony, and he couldn't even use drink to numb the pain as the alcohol just aggravated the symptoms.
Flash to a party. It's the summer of 2005, he's aged 17, and he's hornier than a mountain goat with surgically enlarged... you get the picture.
The party is at the house of a good friend, who I shall call Carly. As everyone else drank, me and Mark stayed sober (I can never drink when I'm with him as it makes me feel bad), and after a few hours, Carly comes up to Mark and comes onto him. They canoodle for a while, his hands disappearing up her top from time to time. They disappear. Twenty minutes later she comes rushing downstairs, screaming.
So what had happened?
They went to her mother's bedroom, and there she decided to take his virginity, telling him so. Dear Mark was naked within four seconds flat. They canoodled naked, and a spot of mouth-to-genital action occurred. Then it got bad. Mark wanted sex, Carly wanted sex, Mark's Crohns disagreed. Racked with pain, but ignoring it because he was about to get his end away, Mark got a condom, and began to do the deed.
As the pain gets worse, Mark gets a bit more staccato with his movements, so Carly decides she wants to go on top. This happens for about thirty seconds, and Mark is getting close. However her weight is really hurting his intestines, where most of his ulcers are, so he flips her onto her back and begins the vinegar strokes.
Crohns causes diarrhoea. Moments before he has his first inside-woman orgasm, Mark's bowels open. What can only be described as noxious effluent from the deepest pits of hell expels itself from his now-burning ring-hole.
It sprays on the bed, it sprays on the floor, it sprays on Carlys mother's wardrobe. Worst, some of it dribbles down and onto Carly. Who doesn't realise what it is, and at first thinks the condom split in a really odd way.
Mark realises first. Pulls out, and tries to waddle to the en-suite, now uncomfortable because he's majorly unsatisfied, still gushing from his behind. So now there is a trail of shite in the bedroom. Finally he plonks his arse down and much splashing ensues.
Carly is still lying on her back, fairly oblivious, until the long-drawn out splashing from the bathroom suggests something isn't right. The smell hits her. She looks down, screams, screams some more, and runs out of the room stark naked, shit covering her.
They had to redecorate the bedroom, the hallway from where Carly spread it, and then recover the seat she sat herself down in.
Needless to say, we were never invited back there.
Apologies for length. He still hasn't properly had to.
( Dave the Mighty, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 15:26, Reply)

Theatre
Oh my word. I'd forgotten about this.

I was madly deeply in love with her. She was the subject of this tale, though this particular story takes place before the events related in that story.

We were both the artistic type. She was involved in a few school plays, and we had even taken part in a pantomime production for a nearby church together.

As it happens, we were chatting backstage of "Much Ado About Nothing" - I was playing Don Juan, just so that you get the image right.

All of a sudden, she blurts out "fancy coming to the toilets for a quickie." I did. Oh, I so very much did.

The sad part is I have no idea what happened next, but I know I didn't get any. I haven't the foggiest recollection of how I responded but we never really hooked up. Looking back, I too would love a time machine to go back and slap myself into shape. It really scares me that I was just so ineffectual that my mind has either

1. blanked out the horrendous outcome of the proposition

2. treated it as nothing to note, and not bothered to file it in the appropriate manner.

Bah.
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 14:22, Reply)

Carnies
I had a fumbling in a carnies van when the fair came to the scummy Manchester town where I lived - luckily as I was still quite young, I shite myself and did a runner, thank god! But oh, the shame!
(!sis, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 13:49, Reply)

Didnt get anywhere near...
Losing my V till started going out with a gorgeous lass when I was 17, my first proper girlfriend. she was a relative expert in the sexual shenanigans and for a while I was fine with the hand and mouth relief. Then my 18th birthday starts getting ever nearer. We'd been going out for about three months and I'm going on more and more about it, as you do. I really wanted to lose it before I was 18, wouldnt anyone? My girl does not take one bit of notice until a week before my big day when she exclaims that she wants to sleep with me on my actual birthday. Why not the day before? when I'm still 17, and thus it's still a vaguely cool age to have lost it. 18 just takes the jaffa dont it? 'Because then it wont be special' How right you were missy..

My birthday comes and I've got the worst flu I've ever had in my life, go to her house, after knobbing about with the condom for ten minutes, wiping the constant stream of snot from my nose and basically feeling like shit I have enough and go home. Yeah, really special that was.
(luckymcdanger, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 13:18, Reply)

My grandad..
Always told me that if you had something important to say... wait for a week and see if it was still relevant.

Edit: Great one Grandad.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Tue 31 Oct 2006, 12:51, Reply)

could have bee-ee-eeen perfect
When i was about 16 i had a weekend boyfriend - we we would get tipsy at the pub fridays and saturdays and spend all evening furiously making out round the back, then go home and ignore each other all week at school until the next weekend.

Anyway, things progressed and eventually i was lying in his arms on the spare mattress in my friend's basement, listening to the pounding rain and his racing heart and trying not to giggle at his erection. He asked me if i'd ever done it, i said no, he asked me if i wanted to and i said oh, eventually, yes.
I then fell asleep and in the morning we went our separate ways. Just as i got home and crawled into bed it hit me.
DOH! NO! AAAAAAAAAAARGH! IT WAS A PROPOSITION!

This was just before the summer holidays so i didn't see him for a while and just as i realised i really loved him i got back and found out he had slept with his cousin. I then spent the next few months going on long walks in the forest and listening to this song by Tracy Champan that's all about a place thats warm and dark where you can feel his beating heart bla bla bla and crying.

If only they had had emo back then...

Length and girth - why do you think I was so upset? it was a prime specimen and i was too dopey to realise what was going on.
(chesty, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 12:33, Reply)

I am a non spotty Virgin
Could one of yous guys do some "funky viral advertising" to get women interested in me? There are a handful of Xbox 360s and PSPs for anyone who is successful in getting me laid.






No, seriously, I'm 20 and my wang is considering early retirement.
(stv318uk, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 12:04, Reply)

Oh yes


Thought of one more on the way home last night. Sixteen years young and hitch-hiking around Europe alone.

[Off topic: when I was young I often hitched and had some really good experiences. I vowed that when I was grown up and had my own car, I’d always stop for hitch-hikers and treat them to a meal or something – absolutely no strings attached, just passing on the good ‘karma’ to the next generation. So what has happened? Where are you all? You used to see hundreds of them all over the place, now the only ones I see are carrying licence plates.]

So there I was, somewhere in Southern France with my thumb out, dreaming the dream of all young (male) hitch-hikers, of the white convertible with the beautiful ever-so-slightly older woman with a fine command of English, yet an adorable accent, who has packets of money and a lovely chateau in the vicinity, parents are in the Bahamas for the summer, I’m so lonely, would you like to stay for a night, or maybe a week…or two? and as you stow your back-pack in the boot and walk round to the passenger door, she leans over to open it and you can’t help noticing that she’s wearing a low cut dress with no bra; the hem reaches half way to her knees, but has ridden up a bit, and she turns to you with her perfect hair and lively eyes and laughs as she sets off up the road, the wind ruffling (but not spoiling) her hair, she brushes your thigh accidentally (surely not) as she changes gear and asks you to light the spliff she produces from the glove compartment (leaning over you to open it)…

And then a truck stopped for me. Grateful for any sort of lift, I climbed up to the cab with my pack and inhaled the scent of the wizened French truck driver: old, very old, and ancient Gaulois or Gitanes filterless fag-smoke smell, overladen with his own very special sweaty aroma. The seat I was on, and the floor at my feet were strewn with the trucker’s detritus, stale food, food wrappings, fag packets, invoices, delivery notes, perhaps a couple of small rodents – it was hard to tell. He spoke no English, I had ‘O’ level French i.e. abso-fucking-lutely useless for speaking to French people. He also had the French equivalent of a broad Yorkshire accent sprinkled with dialect, or perhaps he was Spanish.

Anyways, we travelled along, towards my destination, possible Carcassone or Montpellier and he tried to converse. After a time I managed to discern that he was offering me some work when we reached our destination. Yay! thought I, I could certainly do with some dosh, and he seemed to be offering 20 francs for an hour’s work. In those days, ff10 was about a quid and a quid was worth something (we even had pound notes!). Not bad money for unloading a truck.

“Qu’est ce c’est exactement, ce travail?” I said in my best English accent?

Now, I can’t remember exactly what he said, but it dawned on me that what he wanted me to do was to ‘rub his back’ for an hour for ff20.00. Needless to say I declined his kind offer and got off at the next services. If he hadn’t been roughly 4’ 6” tall and fairly weedy though with a big beer gut, I might have been scared, but I wasn’t.

And that’s the story of how I might have lost my gay ‘v’ plates if things had been a hell of a lot different.

OK, I know, nowhere NEAR on topic really, but what the hey! It’s a quiet day at work for a change.

A bientot,

Now, back to that beauty in the convertible…where was I?...
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 11:57, Reply)

back passage
Friend of mine had a Polish girlfriend at uni. She was a Catholic and insisted that he would never take her virginity because she was saving that for a future husband.

But she'd let him do her up the coal scuttle as much as he liked because that had no bearing on virginity.

You can imagine his disappointment.
(frankspencer, Tue 31 Oct 2006, 11:55, Reply)