Extra Virgin

It's amazing how a little red wine can really ruin a par-tay.

So, long story short—Cohen was a big hit with the friends at Busta Keeton's and Kimberlicious' par-tay. Everyone seemed impressed by his outgoing demeanor, good sense of humor and 6'4"ishness. There was drinking and laughing and animated conversation and . . . Cohen's unfortunate upsetting of several wine glasses full of sangria, thanks to a gregarious arm-wave. Whoosh.

Red wine on the carpet. Red wine on the iMac. Red wine on the sofa. Red-faced embarrassment on Cohen, who, up until that point, was solidly winning the folks over.

Someone jumped in with the brilliant solution of salt to soak up the wine. Guess what, my pretties? It works! Thank you recent episode of Desperate Housewives!

We used all of Busta's salt, so Cohen and I dashed out for more. Unfortunately, we gave the incorrect impression that we weren't coming back. Many worried phone calls (okay, two worried calls from Megan Jane and Scotty), and we returned with enough salt for an army. Cohen felt awful, so he proceeded to drink more. A lot more.

I, of course, missed the last Metro, as is my style, so Cohen graciously offered to let me stay with him.

I know I alluded to a blow job occurring, and that's kind of true. I did try, but, how shall I say, no rockets went off for him. He didn't even get to the launch pad, know what I'm saying? He blamed alcohol, and I readily accepted. Then we both passed out. How romantic.

Tonight, we spent the evening watching a movie (Broken Flowers. I think they forgot to include the ending in our version. I'm just saying). We cuddled and smooched, and things were happenin': I know the equipment works.

But, when I led him back up to my room, it was all, "Houston, we have a problem," again. Finally, he confessed that he is as pure as the driven snow, and his nerves were getting the best of him. Ain't that some fucked-up shit? The universe's horniest *red-head* gets paired with a virgin.

He said he had hoped to just "slip it pass me." Huh? Is that even possible? Think back to your first time, my pretties—there is nothing suave or couth about losing your virginity.

Despite what you may think, I was quite understanding and supportive. I let him know that if I wasn't the one that was okay. He said, "Oh, no. I want to. I just can't. How does this happen? I spend all of my life waiting for a beautiful woman who likes me and wants to have sex with me, and I can't. Why am I having stage fright?"

"Well," I said, "It's to be expected. You're in the presence of greatness."

The good news is that he couldn't have ended up in better hands. The bad news is that I know what it's like to have to teach a virgin the ropes. It ain't pretty. Cohen said he was rather unattractive during the usual "losing it" times of high school and college, and that he didn't mean for this happen—or NOT happen—it's just kind of the way things worked out. He's in a much better spot now, I promise. He even wears European shoes.

Megan Jane thinks he might be gay. I'm not entirely convinced otherwise. Of course, Megan Jane and I think EVERYONE is gay. We think you might be gay. Just throwing it out there.

In any case, past experience has made me hesitant.

A few years back, a boy by the name of Steve, whose family owned a produce and flower company, started bringing me bouquets and baskets of slightly overripe fruit. Of course, I fell for him, only to find out HE TOO had never done the deed. I took him under my wing and into my bed, and kids, let me tell you—it was the sorriest two minutes of my life.

Now, don't get me wrong—it's a given that the first time will be over in three seconds. Probably even the second and third time will be underwhelming performances. No big deal.

But, I kept track. Of the 21 times we had sex together, it only added up to two minutes total! That's sad. Just plain sad.

I can say, though, that I didn't see this coming because Cohen had a pretty solid repertoire of other skillz, so even though he didn't have liftoff, 123V made it to the moon. Several times, so maybe there's hope.

In the Comments section, tell me what it was like to lose your virginity or what it was like to deflower someone else. Any input you have regarding how I should proceed is welcomed.

FYI: It probably goes without saying, but NO, Cohen does not know about this blog or that I'm telling his bidness to God and everybody, so shut your traps, my pretties.