How Not to Get Laid

I went on a cross-country teen tour for a couple summers in high school, and the second time around, I got lucky. Her name was Amber, and she was a total firecracker of a girlfriend: hot, adventurous, and horny, every high school boy’s fantasy. Problem was, this tour was heavily chaperoned, and finding time alone with Amber was difficult. Most nights, we stayed at youth hostels or in cabins, and the boys and girls were strictly separated. But as luck would have it, we had a couple nights ahead of camping in the woods. An ingenious plan was hatched.

Amber would be spending the night in a two person tent with her friend Sara, who just happened to be going out with my friend and tent-mate Matt. We agreed that at two in the morning, after everyone was asleep, Maria would slip out of her tent and sneak into ours. I would then sneak into Amber’s tent, and the two couples would spend the next three hours getting down and dirty. Condoms were purchased in anticipation of the campout, and the four of us could hardly contain our excitement.

The big night finally came. Our camp went dark at midnight. The next two hours were excruciating. I was so stoked for my rendezvous with Amber, I couldn’t sleep a wink. My stomach was in knots. Finally, the witching hour came, and so did Sara, into our tent. It was my turn to sneak out.

I crept out of our tent, and the cold night air breezed through my T-shirt and boxer shorts. I moved slowly, trying to make each footstep as silent as possible. This made the thirty feet between our tents seem like a mile. I was out in the open where any of the chaperones could see me, and my adrenaline was through the roof. I was fifteen feet away. Ten feet away. So close!

And then I stepped on something squishy. And it moved! I panicked, convinced I’d just stepped on a snake, and my plan to move slowly was suddenly thrown out the window. I stutter-stepped and leaped, trying to sprint the last few steps to Amber’s inviting tent. But my balance was off. Not off by much, but ever so slightly. It was just enough that when my foot unexpectedly caught on a large rock, I was unable to right myself, and I flew forward, doing a header into the side of Amber’s tent. In the moment before impact, I saw my life and virginity flash before my eyes.

The tent collapsed under my weight, and the bump in the tent that used to be my girlfriend screamed in shock. The whole campsite sprung to life. And there I was for all to see, in my underwear, face down in the dirt, guilty as sin. All four of us got in trouble that night, but I was the only one whose guilt was unquestionable, and the directors of the tour made my parents pay to fly me back home. My summer, my relationship, and my chance at sex with Amber had all bit the dust.

Submitted by Howard, Age 26, New Jersey

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