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Creaming Spires HT16 Week 3

Losing your virginity is scary. Being a male I had the classic fears: finishing too soon, not being able to please the girl, or looking like Will from The Inbetweeners. I was, however, not worried that my cock would deflate like a balloon or that my cousin would block me on Facebook. This might take some explaining. Nobody goes to a family party expecting to get laid. This is precisely what I managed. When you have cousins who own a farm and are having 300 guests to a party for a joint 18th and 21st, things are obviously going to be a little different. Picture a rural village in the south of England, a tent city, two bands, a marquee and a fucking great big fire pit and you get two things: disgusting white privilege and a whole lot of chaos. A lot of the night was a blur. Occasionally I will hear a piece of music or smell a certain aroma and be thrown into a flashback like a USveteran from Vietnam (You don’t know, man. You weren’t there). I do, however, remember Sophie sitting next to the fire. She was beautiful, clever and musically talented. She was also my cousin’s best friend. I went to dance with her. Jalfrezi breath and a semi pushing through your trousers had never been so attractive. Nothing could go wrong now. Sophie and I found our way inside and ended up on a sofa. Her eyes – all four of them – stared into mine as we spoke. We started to make out. This was at the stage in my life where I still thought that the aim of kissing was to lick the uvula.

We found our way back to my tent and soon, the petting grew heavier. Foreplay intensified. Grade eight on two musical instruments and I am confident on my fingering abilities. I won’t go into a Fifty Shades of Grey level description like an immature 12-year-old boy trying to write erotica, but I think she kind of enjoyed it (but my optimism may be straying from reality).

“Do you have a condom?” The words of the last five years of wet dreams have been uttered. I pull out my dubious wallet Durex. That one from sex-ed class in year nine. It’s been sitting, waiting. As I eased what I now call “slender man” (tall and gangly) into her I tried not to exclaim, like McLovin from Superbad, “Its in!” Forget finishing too quickly, or actually maybe that is a hefty imperative. Eventually the condom came off. I didn’t trust it. I did the one logical thing and went to my cousin to ask her for a condom…to fuck her best friend. I’m not really sure how but I found one.

We continued but were faced with the same stamina-based issues as before. As the sun came up, we didn’t see an explosion like the Hindenburg disaster but a bouncy castle slowly deflating. There are few things as awkward as eating breakfast with your family, your cousin and her best friend who watched as your cock went floppy. I don’t know if that counts as losing your virginity. The one thing I certainly lost was my erection. My cousin did write to thank us for being there. Her little section to me said: “Thanks for coming (to the party that is, not on the sofa)

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