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I think the third time my ex and I ever had sex was the best. We were both 17 and I had just gotten my license. I was going to take her out that day and she called me to come pick her up early since her parents had left she wanted out of the house. So I get there and she answers the door in a towel...
A handful of rounds later, we're laying on her bed naked, she's asleep on my chest, and I'm in post-multicoital bliss. All of a sudden I hear feet coming up the stairs and, knowing I don't have time to wake her up, get us dressed (she sleeps like a comatose patient), and come up with an alibi, I do the next best thing. I grab the blanket with my free hand and pull it over us.
Enter the dad. He looks from us, to the piles of clothing on the floor, to the used condoms, and right back to staring into my soul. Apparently the rapid-fire beating of my heart stirred some small bit of consciousness out of her at this moment and she reached out to hold me closer and say, "I love you," right before nodding right off again. He took a step back and said, "As long as you love her back...," and left.
So, aside from the virtual heart-attack, everything turned out pretty good. I even had a better relationship with her dad, though it was always kind of akward thinking that he knew we were having sex.
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