The student

He was a former pupil of my flatmate. I think he actually wanted to fuck her rather than me.
She had actually arranged our “date”. She’d made it her mission to get me laid after I’d split up with my first proper boyf. We’d gone for drinks and then come back to mine. Except it was actually hers.
He was a geek before geeks were cool. Uncool glasses, a bad leather jacket. Slicked-back hair in a quiff.
I should have known when we started to kiss. Always a good indicator. Like so many, it was all teeth and tongue. All urgency, less delicacy. I can still picture it now.
His hands fumbled with everything. We writhed around on my single bed. Eventually clothes were removed and a condom was produced.
I felt nothing. I think I actually said those awful words – “is it in yet?”
Yes. Yes it was.
I looked at it. It was like a beautiful mushroom. But not the kind of mushroom you want to fuck.
At this point in my life I was inexperienced. But I knew I needed more than that to hit the magic button.
Button. Mushroom. Yup. I DID just make that joke.
He was nice and all but he was fucking me because he wanted to fuck her. And it was the closest he could get.
I can’t remember how I got out of it. If he stayed or left.

It was definitely the first orgasm I faked.