The Sleeper Hold

This story is magical, in so many ways. The events that unfolded this particular night changed my life and those involved forever. Unfortunately the events that unfolded are barely believable (at best) and a lot of the details are hazy. Hazy for a multitude of reasons-my drug riddled brain has become fat with holes and blanks, I have told and retold this story a million times, and of course sometimes I even question myself on the validity of this...event. This event I speak of is like reaching the summit of Mt. Everest to all males...losing my virginity.
Today my employees and I were enjoying the end of a busy shift and were just bullshitting. The topic turned sexual, as it often does behind a bar. The wide spectrum of age, environment, and experiences created a real nice discussion. Lots of laughs and gasps as everyone took turns sharing-then the proverbial arrow pointed at me...So quickly I dug deep into the database of my past and begun to tell the story of how I lost my virginity.
"It was a summer weekend after my freshman year..."
To give a brief history (if you don't know me) I was a Jewish public school kid at a private Catholic High School. I got lucky my older brother was a senior, my best friend was a legacy and being a soccer player my teammates/friends helped me slide right into the "populace." After a full school year I was in like Flynn...one of them.
"...one of our friend's father was out of town and her mother didn't give a shit what we did, as long as it was at her house. So a few of us gathered at her house. Young, horny, and without a care in the world we set out on a mission to get booze, get fired up, and make bad decisions. At this age we were too young to procure alcohol from a store or through any semi-legal avenue of commerce; so we went with the next best thing...GARAGE SHOPPING. If you are not familiar with this term I will explain. In Vegas houses are often in subdivisions or communities (large walled in housing developments with houses close together separated by walls usually following a pattern of "cookie cutter" homes) and as a 13-14 year old without a car these communities become your world. Almost every house in Vegas has a garage, and in that garage is a refrigerator, that is used for sodas, snacks, produce overflow, and beer. Modern houses with garages are all the same, the garage door is controlled by a drive-train on the ceiling that controls the door. This incredibly simply machine can be disabled by a "ripcord" that hangs from said apparatus. Some families deliberately pull the "ripcord" disengaging the mechanized garage door opener, this caused the garage door to become manual. Garage doors can be locked manually allowing only someone from the inside to open the door, however, on average most don't lock the door because it becomes tedious, making these homeowners trusting patsies begging for trouble.
Thus "garage shopping" is when curious teenagers searching for an escape from reality/inhibition wonder through a neighborhood at night checking garage doors for any that are open. If they find one that is open they proceed to open the garage (utilizing teenage stealth-like a pack of fucking ninjas) make their way in, B-line for the "garage fridge" and raid all and any alcohol. This is a surprisingly successful method of alcohol procurement.
On this particular night we hit multiple garages and had a real nice "score." (white zinfadel, wine coolers, random beers, all things that make for underage debauchery) So we took are booty back to our friends house and began to consume it all as fast as possible. I can't remember the exact details of our consumption but we got FUCKED, real quick, teenage quick. Fast forward to the time of the "event."...
My best friend, another one of my friends, myself and a girl are all in a jacuzzi. This girl (who will remain nameless even though she may have been the greatest girl ever...the word slut will never ever do her justice-my exploits with her will be forever apart of me [and many others] and I, still to this day, have nothing but absolute respect and appreciation for her) were all low on morale juice. The four of us began to get handsy...to say the least. So as one thing lead to another this girl ended up backhanding both of my friends while I'm making out with her. She was "skiing" the proverbial slopes. (Take a second and visualize.) She was sitting at 6 o'clock in the jacuzzi double-fisting both of my friends at 3 o'clock and 9 o'clock while I was cumming right down the middle. I get aggressive and decide to walk down the holy road that is only walkable once.
I made some waves for like 3 minutes, high-fiving my boys the whole time. We were all like 13 and 14 so the romance didn't't last. I finished and she got out of the jacuzzi collected what was left of herself and proceeded to fall asleep. My boys and I laughed and joked (hoping that nothing we did was in any way homosexual) finished off the Boone's Farm and passed out.
That was how I became "a man." Not with my high school sweetheart in a barn or at make out point , not with my baby sitter, not after prom, nor even with my older brother's friend who always thought I was cute-but in jacuzzi. Do you know why...because I grew up in Vegas.

p.s.-If any of you readers did grow up with me, then you know exactly who I am talking about. And all of you, like me, every once in a while, find yourself staring up at the ceiling thanking her...