Pretty much what Cole said, with a couple of comments:
I found the voices too similar. In places your prose verges on purple and, for me, is overly complex.
No preparation, no lube, and no condoms? Yowch!
extascy is ecstasy. đ
Also - and this is just a personal bugbear: why it that people always seem to find themselves in gorgeous apartments? Why are there no more seedy garret room romances - where the place smells mouldy, the milk is well off and sour, and the only alcohol is a drib at the bottom of a bottle?