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The Type Of Song You Lost Your Virginity To And What It Says About Your First Time

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Music is like a time machine. Hearing a certain song shuffle onto your Pandora, play on the radio, or come on in the club while you’re chugging Bud Light and trying to fingerblast chicks in Ravens jerseys can take you back in time. There are certain songs that bookmark chapters of your life. A special little tune can highlight a moment from the past and make you feel like you’re in that moment again. Sometimes it’s a great memory (a fun party, a good Christmas, your first handjob) and sometimes it’s a TERRIBLE memory (a death of a loved one, a breakup, your first handjob). In my case, all 5 of those were on the same day.

One of the most special songs that transports you into your own past is the song you lost your v-card to. Obviously, not everyone loses their virginity to a song. Sometimes music is playing when you finally dip your wick into a chick, sometimes it’s not, which makes it’s easier to hear your dead grandmother disapproving of it while watching you from heaven.

But to those lucky people who heard a tune play while they prematurely ejaculated into the world of adulthood, you can use the following system to break down what kind of a human being you truly are deep down inside. I, magically, can take the genre of the song you heard when that first rubber broke “‘cuz you wore it wrong” and tell what you kinda person you are. Here’s what the type of song you lost your virginity to says about you, and what it says about the sex you had.

It was probably the most vanilla sex possible. If you look up “most boring first fuck of all time” in the Guinness Book Of World Records, it’ll be a picture of you (not a picture of you having sex, just a picture of you eating a sandwich, for legal purposes). You probably did missionary with all the lights off, completely silent, while you prayed desperately in your head, and tried to think of baseball players and the bad Batman movies to keep from shooting your wad too quick while she laid there enjoying approximately zero percent of everything you had to offer.

You were likely on ecstasy, which means you were sweating your ass off and the unlucky lady nearly drowned to death, like a bizarre and disturbing death scene from a Final Destination porn parody. You weren’t completely naked (nor were the lights totally off) because you were wearing a glow stick necklace and 2008 era Kanye glasses. If this poor girl’s life were a film about becoming asexual, her encounter with you would be what is called the “inciting incident.”

The sex was fast and rough. Not in a way that’s fun for her. In a way that’s awkward and totally incompetent. It’s like watching some douchebag try stand-up comedy for the first time at a dive bar open mic. He (you) is nervous so he’s shaking and talking way too fast, speeding through his hacky jokes, and hoping he doesn’t accidentally take a shit.

You were drunk as fuck and you smelled like the corpse of an OD’d biker bloating in the sun after an unregistered MMA match in an Arizona backyard. On the bright side, though, you didn’t blow it right away because it’s impossible to reach climax with Dave Grohl screeching in the background. Other side of the coin, though, is that your partner had to suffer through shitty music for an amount of time generally reserved for the guests at CIA black sites. She would have preferred to have simply been quickly disappointed.

You thought it was romantic and so did she… until it started. Fun fact: In the time since you put it to that girl with a Luke Bryan ballad on the background, Luke Bryan himself has also had sex with her. He was much better than you.

You lost your virginity in the late 19th Century, which means one of two things: You were a time traveler in your teen years and, like anyone with raging hormones, you were so horny you risked banging your own great grandma. That, or you’re a centenarian who, with any luck, will pull off the rare feat of getting some in three different centuries should your nursing home ever finally cave and let you die from a Viagra induced heart explosion while a looks-irrelevant prostitute rides you into your grave.

You were really high during the sex. Like, really fucking high. As a matter of fact you were so high that you didn’t even realize there wasn’t actually a girl there. You were just fucking your own hand while Bob Marley provided the sad soundtrack.

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Wally Bryton

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