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I ended up getting my first kiss at 15, when I went to visit a friend in rural Maine and got to be the exciting new girl for a few weeks. I made it to the Volvo my mother had loaned me for the night, trying to unlock the driver’s side door as fast as possible. They said it was going to be a study session but I guess that means an orgy. I’m a homeschooler.” I found the keys just as he walked back to his car and sat down on the hood.

(Not that there's anything wrong with that.) Here are 10 stories from Nerve readers who lost their V-card with a little more international flair.I slid my hand up her mini-skirt and pulled her knickers apart and awkwardly tried to do what I thought I had become quite good at.She put her small hand down my shorts and jerked at it.On the last night I was sitting at the bar minding my business when this skinny ginger number came up and sat next to me. She ordered a snakebite — a pint glass of half lager, half cider with a shot of black-currant cordial. Her name was Ceri and she was from Wales, a poor village somewhere or other.She was sixteen and she only got fifty-pence pocket money a week. Before I knew it we were on a wooden bench near the swimming pool, under the shade of a palm tree. All I remember is her saying, "Oh, just bloody kiss me, you twat," in this almost incomprehensible Welsh slur and grabbing me by the head.

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