Diary of a Reluctant Virgin: Week 7

The big day that all freshers had been waiting for had finally arrived, and it was all that we dreamed of. I am, of course, talking about college marriage. I wore a white dress. I bought my beloved a wedding present (a t-shirt that read ‘Drink ‘Till You Want Me’). The ceremony was beautiful, as was the champers. My college husband and I declared that we were best friends. We were happily handing in our Chlamydia tests to the tasteful stall in the corner (obligatory to take after getting hitched you understand) when we noticed a sign saying ‘Consummation Corner’. Underneath there were lots of bean bags, and a JCR photographer hovered nearby.

My husband and I looked at each other. Then we jumped onto the bed, and for the next couple of minutes posed in a number of saucy shots, in which we rather graphically consummated our marriage. Then we merrily got up and went to the bop.

The next day the photos went up on the JCR website. After a few hours I flicked through. To my glee the photos of me and my husband were very convincing indeed. His new girlfriend was going to love them! Then I looked at the other photos. They were just of couples standing side-by-side smiling. No one else consummated their marriage. Like, no one.

This was so typical. I couldn’t decide if everyone else was a boring prude or if we were just completely inappropriate. Anyway, now the whole college could see what looked like the Reluctant Virgin losing the v-plates in spectacular fashion. Oh the shame.

I got the photos taken down in record time, but I kept them for my own private viewing. I thought I could use them to blackmail my husband into doing my bidding, but he had other ideas…

I woke up one morning, flounced over to my underwear draw to find that I had no pants! Literally none.

No pants!

I was so confused. I knew that they had been taken, but where? And by whom?

I wore pyjamas for as long as I could but my supervision loomed, so I rooted in my laundry basket and wore a pair I wore last week. Grim.

Then I checked my phone to find that one of our friends had come back to his room to find pants just lying on the bed. Oh dear.

I ran over to his room, then casually strolled in. ‘Hey, just picking up my pants,’ I said in what I hoped was an off-hand, breezy manner. He looked alarmed.

‘Why are your pants in my room?! That’s kind of creepy…’

‘Well, I think it’s creepy that you have them in your room,’ I said calmly, picking up my laciest and stuffing it into my bag. And with that I left for my supervision.

Waiting outside I looked at my phone again, and immediately wished I hadn’t. All of my friends had taken photos of themselves with my underwear. They had it pinned to their notice boards, hung up in their wardrobes, or stuck up around the room. They had photos of them on their heads. One person was even stuffing them inside their mouth. And what’s worse, I was about to have a wash. So the only underwear left were the ones that I didn’t really like.

At the start of my supervision I was so distracted looking at photos on my phone of my knickers being strung around the library (why, just why?) that I didn’t notice that in pulling books out of my bag, I was also revealing the pairs of pants peeking out of the top. I looked at my supervisor’s shocked face and quickly mumbled something about laundry and shoved the bag on the floor.

Cover your eyes, there might be pants

I spent the next two days gathering pants from around college. One guy refused to give a pair back because he liked them. My college husband gave my knickers away to his new girlfriend. I still have no idea where some of them are.

I think I learnt a valuable lesson from all this – take a good, hard look at your pants people. Would you want to see them on your friend’s head? If the answer is no, then for God’s sake chuck them.