From the discussion of the weirdness of sex:

I remember when I was given a virgin. I have endured all kinds of stupid virgin conversations. Conditions vary (type of compulsory couple-three walks) courageously removed. I also respected the other outsiders. Nevertheless, the man of virginity is about to lose, it can be endured.



And here, I remember, came the day of X. We began to gradually get rid of our clothes. She apparently read somewhere that it was necessary to resist until the last, so as not to be taken for a jerk. I am already sweating, and she twists all her legs together so that the jeans are harder to pull off. I had to hint that a few more minutes of such resistance and I will only have the strength to take a shower. It helped, it relaxed a little. And then I removed the lift from her... And she has hair on her chest, fucking... Well, not in the sense that it grows like mine, but it’s still noticeable! And even spot! The Pizzeria. I immediately remembered that I still needed somewhere to go and suggested postponing the procedure. Rather, I didn’t even offer it, but put it before the fact that we will continue when I come back. I have not returned...