Alright, so I was the guy in high school everyone said would get laid last, and at one point it seemed pretty obvious it was the case, until I met this one girl. It was the summer before grade 12, and drinking was quickly becoming a common thing to do on the weekend. So one night her parents were gone, there was a party at her house, we drank and had fun. Next thing I know she was taking me to the bedroom. I was pretty nervous, and excited. When finally came the time to put it in, the first thought that crossed my drunken mind was "it's so warm!". Then being so worried about how long I'd last, I looked at the clock, 2:51, or something like that. After some time (thinking this is fucking awesome) she turns to me and says "I can't do this." Pushes me off, puts on her clothes and leaves to the bathroom where she cried with her friends. She was still hooked on her ex-boyfriend, and couldn't stop thinking of him while I was on her. I ended up rubbing one out on her bedsheets, your move princess, your move. I'm so bad at sex.