I am listening, which is worse than reading, to I Am Charlotte Simmons, and I just heard a detailed scene of freshling deflowering. One should not infer from "detailed" anything like "prolonged and sweet and fun and living up to expectations" (not that the defloweree had any). I jerked out the headphones in disgust, at greedy predators with no thought for their naïvely consensual prey, at Tom Wolfe for writing a character untrue to herself when his needs required, and at myself for having ever said unkind things about the partner with whom I shared a mutual first. However badly matched we were personality-wise, sexually we were just fine. When I consider how many hideous first experiences I have heard about, I am the more grateful that we spared each other haste and heedlessness.
I hope you're well and happy, NCS.
And ha! Thanks, Haitch, for the link: Tom Wolfe earns a Bad Sex in Lit award