Dress 1: Childhood sweetheart

So the first dress to hit the bedroom floor was probably my school uniform (cringe). It was my with my childhood sweetheart; I used to think he was the best thing since sliced bread! We had done the awkward try a few times, but to no avail; he was either trying to stick it in my belly button, or I was crossing my legs, or something along those ridiculous lines that meant we had never actually sealed the deal.

It was at his house, on the bottom bunk of his (at the time) incredibly cool bunk beds, where the magic happened. I say magic, because there was clearly another force at work that day. Never, in the history of losing the big V, has it happened quite like this. I'm going to tell you exactly what went down (literally) that fateful night, and I swear on my shoe collection it is the gods honest truth. Please don't judge my magnetic vagina.

So there we both are, lay on his bed watching Pirates of the Caribbean, me staring longingly into Johnny Depps eyes as he talks about rum and the lack of it. He (my guy, not Johnny Depp, although I freaking wish!) got a little bored, so we retreated under the covers and started to fondle. I was still staring longingly into Johnny Depps eyes, I mean, have you seen him?! Things were getting steamier in the bunk bed though; we were now both naked from the hips down (except socks, of course) and he was about to go down. However, might I remind you I was young and in love, and still a hopeless romantic, so just as he was sliding down I pulled him back up from between my legs for one last smooch. Afterwards he would taste like vagina, and I wasn't down with that shit. Much to my shock, believe me, I felt something slip between my legs, where his tongue would have been hadn't I stopped him, and into me. Oh dear. I actually remember my exact words, "Please tell me that's your fingers in there?". It definitely wasn't his fingers. I had lost my virginity, by mistake, while gazing at Jack Sparrow dancing around a bonfire. What the actual fuck?

Of course I didn't make him remove it, although I was absolutely petrified, and his inbetweeners-esque thrusting still haunts me to this day. Now when I look back at the day I lost my virginity I feel a little bit robbed; I like to think that Johnny had got me so riled up and horny that I was just wide open, ready for anything to slip in. Truth is, my fella probably just had an extremely small dick. My friends believe me as little now as they did when I rang them, 5 minutes after the magic happened.

Dress number 1, my childhood sweetheart; magic, magnet or meant to be?