If you're going to clog this thread with your stupid tales of where you live, at least provide an interesting failure at sex in said location.
HS junior year. I had recently broken up with my second serious girlfriend after 6-7 months, and we never had sex. That could probably be a failed attempt as a whole, but I was really into her and wasn't trying to push shit (I had already blown it hard with the first serious gf). So I break it off and she's bummed, I was over it but not apparently as over it as I thought. So I attend a hotel party for this one girl's birthday a few weeks later. I had met her only once before and actually going to the party felt awkward on it's own.
Anyway, I get there and they're all getting smashed or high off illegal substances. I was a tad late. I was a clean guy back in the high school days so I didn't fucks with that kind of stuff. But I was also oblivious to drunk girls who are very "hands-on", if you catch my drift. Right? Well about five minutes in she was grabbing my disco stick. In the middle of the room with twenty or so of her smashed friends around. So a combination of laughter, OHHHHHHHHHH, and "WHIP THAT SHIT OUT BRO THE BIRTHDAY GIRL WANTS A BIRTHDAY SHOWER" emanated from the crowd. I've gone maybe a year without a girl going into my bramble patch, so I'm stoked as fuck but incredibly embarrassed, trying to figure out how we could fuck without two dozen onlookers. A drunken whisper floats into my ear from my penis captor, "I have to go to the bathroom." The bathroommmm. So I whisk my lovely away into the bathroom and lock that fucking door. I drop my pants facing the door and as I turn around to give her the old heave-ho, a blast of puke pummels my now exposed under carriage. I wish I could fight through such an experience and take her to the bone zone (a-la Watson), but I was now about to return her favor. Luckily I scuttle to the sink in time to paint the off-white sink a greenish-orange color. Things seem to have gone south, so I let this girl pass out under the sink as I grab the shower head and rid myself of another's puke. I did a terrible job, but I wanted to get the fuck out. I spray her in the face to wake her up just long enough to tell her I'd love to try again sometime. I'm 17, I'll still smush the girl who vomited on my junk.
Anyway, I excuse myself from the party and venture home. I finally arrive and an actual shower is certainly needed. Moments before I turn the faucet on, my phone rings. It's the ex-girlfriend I never got to sleep with. "I'm outside. Please can we talk?" FUCK. Emptying my can of AXE body spray, I open the front door, nervous as to what she could possibly want. Not a second passes after the door opens that she's in my arms, passionately kissing my neck while trying to say, "Will you stay with me if we make love? I'm ready." The horrific state of my manhood vanished from my mind as I graciously agree and we take our positions on the bed to make some sex. Things run smoothly. Up until she also grabs my disco stick and I remember now that another girl had touched my disco stick that day. I halt everything at once and try to remove myself from the situation. She eagerly fights back, and by the cold hand of fate, or the fact that she must have learned the Vulcan death grip, manages to get my pants off, the boxers being nice enough to follow suit. I can't very well scuttle all that fast, so she manages to get her face close enough and she catches the wave of puke smell that had once been blocked by clothes. She backs away, looks at me, and starts to cry as she yells at me asking what I've done. Unsure of if I was caught or not, I plead random cases of innocence, but she keeps crying so I stop and sit down. She gathers her things and rushes out, and I'm left sitting on my bed, the smell of vomit wafting into my nose. A fine punishment for not boning two girls in one day.