While he fumbled around looking for a condom, I pulled my jeans and panties down, but left on my tank top, half because I was still so shy about my body and half because the chilly basement temperature. Still above me, Dan leaned back and whispered, "It gets better than this." I stumbled to the bathroom to clean myself.
I came back to find Dan lounging in the recliner, staring blankly at the TV.
After her mom got the second call from the police to pick her up, we had to get even more careful about tricking our parents.
I couldn’t think of bringing anyone home to my house in the suburbs; the idea of losing my virginity upstairs from my parents’ bedroom seemed way too cliché for how I normally did things. So, I devised a plan for spring break to fly on my own dime to L. to visit an old friend and simultaneously check out some West Coast schools.
She was a swimmer with a great toned body and sexy eyes.
We started to hang out in the same group of friends and quickly it was clear there was a mutual attraction.
Using my sweet-ass vintage Wonder Woman t-shirt and the kind of perky boobs only a girl of seventeen can possess, I zeroed my sights in on Dan, a bassist who spastically jumped and thrashed through his band’s set of three-chord, throat-punishing songs.
Female • 17 years old years old • Pennsylvania I celebrated the end of my junior year of high school with my ultra-cool, apartment-renting, punk-rock-music-educating, twenty-one-year-old boyfriend dumping me. So when I ended up at a local punk-rock show he was also attending a scant few months later, I decided jealousy was the best weapon.