Played hooky to finally get after it (weeks and weeks of allllmosts with the gf), somehow made it past the awkward without a scratch and more than a few shared giggles & good spirits. I was on top of the world, doing everything I could to hold out until she came, but then I thought I heard her voice change a little?

I opened my eyes to see that she was looking right up at me (missionary, don’t judge) with a finger pressed against her lips and eyes wide, tense.

Then I heard the moan again. A woman’s noise —and then a manly grunt.

My mom was upstairs (not at work?! how? why -oh.) with her boyfriend. Fucking. Right above us. The rooms’ floor plans were pretty much the same, beds angled the same direction, headboards against the same wall, maybe even fucking in the same position. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck. 😶

I have no idea how we escaped without notice that late morning, but the unstoppable hormone engines in both the gf & I at that age were burying the needle at all hours, at the helm of every decision both major and minor at all times — and would not let that stupidly improbable scene deter us.

We found every. single. opportunity. we could to shuck clothes and devour each other at a moment’s notice. Behind the portables, on the art tables after most electives were done for the day, up in the botany greenhouse balcony, in her car during her “smoke” break at work, in her friend’s parents’ master bath during a family dinner, etc. 🤷🏼‍♂️

I guess the lesson is: don’t let the expectation of “magic” discolor your IRL experience of it, and always keep your sense of humor intact. Resounding, ardent interest will always win out over self-doubt & cyclical worry. Have fun, be safe, and check in with your partner. 🥰