Bloody hell, guys!
Right... I'll chip in, same as the rest of the lot who don't have any horrid lines, but who've a good story to share and who do so out of gratitude to this wonderful thread.
I had my first chance at a girl/woman when I was nearing the end of 17 years, and was on exchange to a high school in Texas... She fancied me a bit because she was into black metal and whatnot from Norway, and I was an awkward long-haired Noggy. She also happened to be a 24 year-old blonde divorcé stunner
(no shit, I couldn't believe it myself... nor could my Brazilian and Argie best mates in the US).
Anyhoo, I'd originally wanted to go to Austin on Memorial weekend or whatever it was, and had gotten the green lights... I am rubbish at picking up signs, like many others on this thread, but felt it would be fun, if not a virginity-losing weekend. I wasn't allowed after they'd double-checked with my representative, who said I needed to have a guardian if I was staying anywhere overnight... so I tell a friend of mine to cover for me, cause they'd asked for a number so if they called maybe he could just confirm and say I was busy (not well thought-out but thought I'd give it a go and hope a number to call would lead them to be content.)
So we head off to the liquour store, she asks what liquour and I respond "you choose", because I'd mostly had alcopops, some tequila and a few soft mixed drinks then... I was only two months or so into getting my drink on. Anyway, she opts for whisky, we check into a Dallas hotel that's a 15 min walk from Deep Ellum, the club and bar district, and she gets out these styrofoam glasses to pour the whiskey in... nothing else, and I don't know what brown liquour tastes like yet. She downs it easily, I do so masking my shock to decent effect. So we stumble to Deep Ellum, and I get in after having been asked for ID, then subsequently get my hand X-ed with a marker so I can't order. She tells me to scrub viciously if I go to the loo. In the mean time she's fixing me drinks which now go down as easy as you'd like because my throat's been desensitised by whisky. I get dizzier and dizzier and at some point she just starts making out with me wildly... I remember staggering to the bathroom and my head was spinning... what was that? what does that mean? I was really confused and drunk, but quite happy
This goes on for a bit 'till she asks whether we should leave, and I of course mumble "yesh!" I remember nearly hitting the pavement a fair few times, but remaining upright, and then it all goes black and I wake up at 9 am... I don't feel as bad as I should, things were easier the first six months when I was drinking
but I was even more confused and I find myself in my boxers, whilst she's next to me fully clothed.
I asked her what happened and she said we left, and our stagger back to the hotel was punctuated by me pushing her up against the wall and mildly savaging her (TOTALLY out of character... had me surprised) and her calling her mates saying "I'm going to feck an 18 year old, fancy coming along?"
She could have me to herself, was the end result, and we went back to the room, where I proceeded to undress so efficiently that she thought I was well up for it... Then I collapsed on the bed and mumbled in Norwegian.
If I knew I could've lost my virginity then, and if I knew how hard liquour hits you, I'd've handled that evening differently. Went to eat some breakfast, then she drove me home where I got bollocked madly for being a complete and utter horrible person (teenagers don't have fun in the US, don't you know?), and then I got a call from my representative making me feel like utter shit for betraying their trust... This was my birthday, btw... partially why I thought feck it when I was told they'd need a number to call.
I called my parents to tell them myself, felt completely horrible... my parents were worried when I approached it so tenderly, and then amused when they found out that this had caused such a ruckus. I was threatened with being thrown out, a couple of weeks before completion of my semester, and not getting it approved. In the end they mellowed out, and it went fine... And the night before I left I sorted out the unfinished business with the 24 year-old... who I later found out had a stroller in the boot of her car, which made my friends deduce (correctly) that she had a kid