Member-only story
Sexual Humor
How Not to Put on a Condom
That first time having sex wasn’t what I had expected.
I attempted to fall in love with “Kathy.” I really wanted to. But if I couldn’t have love, at least I might have sex.
I was a twenty-three-year-old virgin; I’m doubtful Kathy was. It was 1966, and I was in my second year of medical school at the University of Nebraska, where Kathy was a nurse.
We had dated for a couple of months, and our physical intimacy was becoming, well, progressively more physically intimate. I thought We are going to have sex. I am going to have two-person sex.
I wanted to make that first time extraordinary, but how to make that happen stumped me.
The only sex education I had was from an eighth-grade classmate who told me about the movie regarding menstruation the girls in our class had watched in the fifth grade. And then in high school, my mother told me several times, “Don’t go getting some girl pregnant. You’ll have to marry her, and you’ll be miserable the rest of your life.”
That was all the sex education I had except for the bits and pieces of misleading information I overheard in the locker room after football practice.
