Saturday, April 25, 2009

Latitude = 43.2656, Longitude = -80.4558

That's where I lost my viginity. +/- 10 feet.

Which brings me to sex in cars...

I won't go into all the gory details but suffice to say that if you want to lose your virginity try NOT to do it in the front passenger seat of a 1980 Honda Civic. In fact, I did not loose my virginity in that car but beside it.

Which brings me to a remembrance...

S and I were driving back from a game of hockey I had played in. The plan was to play some hockey with da' boys as our girlfriends watched and then head over to a friend's place to do a bit of partying. On the way from the arena to the party S insists I follow her directions and I do, curious as to why since I am driving in my hometown which S has little familiarity with. It patently becomes obvious her intent: Her directions have lead us to a local city park famous for being a make out area. The irony being that we boys used to deliberately pass through the parking spots late a night to see what we could see. Infantile and childish I know but remember this was before the Internet and how else are teen aged boy/men supposed to satisfy their voyeuristic tendencies?

Now I have to admit some trepidation. Here are two conflicting goals. One is that I am probably going to get very lucky and the other is I am probably going to be a victim of pubescent voyeurs that may see us and tease me mercilessly. Plus there is a GOOD chance I may know them. As I turned into the access road leading the the parking spot I was announciating my 'no's' to S but she simply swept my fears away by sliding her hand onto my thigh and moving her hand suggestively.

The good news... I was not victim to my fears.

So we park and begin to enjoy each others' company, as it were. Eventually things move toward their logical conclusion. I have now moved the front seatback rearward to make room for the dirty deed and we have shed our pants, since it was winter. Must have been quite a sight - two people making love with parkas on.

We are rapt in the mutual enjoyment of our coupling when I notice something. There is a red mark on S's face. Well, not a mark but a reflection. I rise up to see what could possibly be the source of the reflection while S is say, " Don't stop now. I am almost there." Slowly my head rises until I am staring into the face of a police officer!

"S, we have to stop!" I whisper, my head sliding down to her ear to whisper.

"No. No."

"Yes, now," I hiss.

S is perplexed and her eyes widen. "Cop," I bleat out and she gives a short yelp and knocks me down into the footwell in her efforts to retrieve her pants and become decent for our visitor. There is nothing more awkward than two teenagers interferito nell'atto.

S sat in the driver's seat sullen and focused on some unseen but very important point in space in front of the car while the police officer interrogated me about "what had been going on." Satisfied that it was not a rape in progress he suggested we move on and waited for us to drive away.

We sure did. And we never did make it to that party.

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