Next, indeed!
Due to FB's less than Olympic performance in the bedroom, I left the small town where I lived, and headed to the bright lights of Sheffield and University, still a virgin.
Despite my parents' assertions, since revised, that having sex before marriage was tantamount to displaying a red light outside your house, draping your knickers out of your bedroom window and having 'Slapper' tattoed across your forehead, I was prepared to risk my reputation. Being a virgin at the grand old age of 19 was a situation I wanted to rectify and soon.
FB had made such a big deal of it, that the whole issue had assumed an entirely disproportionate place in my life.I had to find out what all the fuss was about. Fuss to do it from boyfriends and fuss not to do it from parents.
So when the opportunity presented itself in the form of a multi-coloured mohair jumper wearing geeky 25 year old IT student who was handsome, in a multi-coloured mohair jumper wearing sort of way, I succumbed.
After weeks of chatting, a cider-fuelled night in the Student's Union, led to a cider-fuelled night in my single bed in our shared Halls of Residence.
It wasn't quite the earth moving experience I had hoped for, having read too many romantic novels. In fact the word that could be best used to describe it was messy, very! But I told myself it was bound to be better the next time...
Next time?! This was my life! There was to be no next time.... after weeks of pursuit, he began avoiding me. I subsequently discovered that Mohair Man had only slept with me to make another girl jealous. It was particularly humiliating as, iwhen the girl in question wasn't wearing one of her many flowery Laura Ashley frocks (circa 1970), shewas regularly mistaken for a boy, due to her short back and sides and ironing board physique!Maybe he was gay!
Next time I'd get it right...or would I?
Due to FB's less than Olympic performance in the bedroom, I left the small town where I lived, and headed to the bright lights of Sheffield and University, still a virgin.
Despite my parents' assertions, since revised, that having sex before marriage was tantamount to displaying a red light outside your house, draping your knickers out of your bedroom window and having 'Slapper' tattoed across your forehead, I was prepared to risk my reputation. Being a virgin at the grand old age of 19 was a situation I wanted to rectify and soon.
FB had made such a big deal of it, that the whole issue had assumed an entirely disproportionate place in my life.I had to find out what all the fuss was about. Fuss to do it from boyfriends and fuss not to do it from parents.
So when the opportunity presented itself in the form of a multi-coloured mohair jumper wearing geeky 25 year old IT student who was handsome, in a multi-coloured mohair jumper wearing sort of way, I succumbed.
After weeks of chatting, a cider-fuelled night in the Student's Union, led to a cider-fuelled night in my single bed in our shared Halls of Residence.
It wasn't quite the earth moving experience I had hoped for, having read too many romantic novels. In fact the word that could be best used to describe it was messy, very! But I told myself it was bound to be better the next time...
Next time?! This was my life! There was to be no next time.... after weeks of pursuit, he began avoiding me. I subsequently discovered that Mohair Man had only slept with me to make another girl jealous. It was particularly humiliating as, iwhen the girl in question wasn't wearing one of her many flowery Laura Ashley frocks (circa 1970), shewas regularly mistaken for a boy, due to her short back and sides and ironing board physique!
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