We have all been there, even if we don't want to admit it, we have. Now when it first happened to me (and yes, I have been the victim of this kind of 'hit an run' on more than 1 occasion) I had to admit I had no real basis for comparison. Fresh out of a relationship that spanned longer than the average prison sentence for murder yet bore a striking resemblance to being incarcerated, my Sexual road trip had only taken me from teenage cherry popping lane to the mid twenties motorway of monotony with only ever having one Passenger along for the 'ride'...literally. So with this in mind accompanied with an extremely low moral threshold I embarked on what I had hoped was going to be my sexual revolution of carefree, mind blowing casual sex with newly acquired passengers that I would pick up along the way.

I packed my personal vehicle with positive thoughts, a brand new wardrobe and a whole heap of cheap rose wine and set off with great enthusiasm in pursuit of my first dalliance into the world of great, satisfying sex.

This was it, I had made it to my very first pit-stop with a brand new passenger and I was so so excited. I had waited so long to experience the sheer all consuming passion of great sex and the moment was finally here.... and so, as I lay there with this new lover I continued to wait and wait and wait some more.

At first I put his awkward fumbling down to nerves, then I dismissed his inability to put the key in the door to the actual vehicle as him being slightly geographical disoriented, however when the jack-rabbit style hammering began I was clean out of explanations. As I lay there with my head banging off the wall to an incomparable rhythm, I looked up at the sweaty, squirming specimen on top of me and wondered..is this it?

As he continued to pound away as if he was drilling for oil with a look of stern concentration on his face I tried my best to embrace the situation and go with the flow. Unfortunately this was not to be. I was in what I can only describe as a vice-like grip somewhat reminiscent of the hold a dog has on your leg when it is humping it. In fact I began to surmise that this is actually how your leg feels when it is being humped by said dog.

There where no hands caressing, or soft lips kissing, no thrill of arousal, just a crazy penis on a pot holing expedition through my cave. I began to hope that I would be knocked unconscious by the repeated hammering of my head against the wall. When this didn't happen I just closed my eyes and began to plan what I could make to eat out of the blue molded cheese, half a chill and tub of mayonnaise that was currently residing in my fridge.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn't realized that the ordeal was over until I heard a voice exclaim 'awe man that was awesome, I wrecked that!'. I lie to you not, those where his actual words. And as I lay there with my hopes, dreams and lets face it my dignity shattered (as my abandoned cave was embarrassingly on show) I couldn't help but feel so disappointed and let down.

There is nothing as truly awful as 'bad sex'. It kind of creeps up on you unannounced, slaps you up the face and runs off into the night leaving you feeling hollow and disappointed. The most important thing is not to let it put you off for life. Just chalk it up to yet another experience on the road to true sexual fulfillment.