Granted, you didn't know what sex was, per se, because you'd lost that bet with your best friend, one that said you'd lose your virginity by your 18th birthday because obviously the ladies couldn't get enough of your pathetic pining and nice guy ways.
But there you were on the couch, li'l blanket covering your beer gut that wasn't really a beer gut because you hadn't quite realized your potential as a binging beast. As you woke up that Friday morning in June, your eyes a little ragged from the two shots of Jack Daniels the night before and the tears from having to drop your hot prom date off at school because she was a boarder, you stretched.
And then you heard a soft moan, and maybe something squishy. "Sex? Someone's having sex?" you immediately thought.
Your friends Jenn and Mike are beneath a blanket next to you, and they're seniors in high school for annother day, so it wasn't like the task took awhile. Basically, by the time the young, 90210-haired Ol' Man realized what was happening, the act had ended.
So no orgy, but sex on the couch for breakfast. Ah, the good ol' days.
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