Chelle's Story...
My worst sexual experience not only disproved the myth of a man's shoe size to penis size correlation, but also took me several months to heal up from.
I met this guy via a chat line and talked with him over several weeks before meeting and going on a few dates. Now he wasn't the most attractive of men, but he was 6 ft 4in tall and wore a size 14 shoe so the primal part of me was still very interested. After the 3rd date, I went back to his place with him, I took the initiative dimmed the lights then took off my clothes and helped take his off before I straddled him in his lazy boy chair. In hindsight, I should have left the lights on... hell, I should have just gone home after dinner...
I couldn't even make
contact with his dick while in the chair so I offer another position.
He decides he's going to do the "suave hold onto the girl and stand up thing",
which results in my leg getting stuck between the arm of the chair and the cushion. As
he's trying to help me get untangled during this awkward half standing
position, I feel a twist and a pop in my knee just as I am able to get
my leg loose. Despite the pain I am in, I am still determined to make the evening work, so I bend over the side of the chair while keeping most of my
weight on my uninjured side. He is fumbling behind me like he has no
clue as to what he is supposed to do. I can feel his attempts at
insertion, but still nothing.
At this point I am
losing the mood, my left knee is throbbing with its own pulse, and I
frustratedly ask what a girl has to do to get laid. He sheepishly says
"I can't seem to get my dick to reach"... I muffled my laughter with the
cushioning of the arm rest before I stand up straight, turn the lights
up and do the full visual inspection of his family jewels.... It took a
very short 3 seconds to realize any hope of an orgasm was out the
window. He was hard as a rock... and towering a whopping 2 and a half inches in length.
That's when I knew it wasn't my ass that was too big for
doggy style, just a dick that was too small for
it.
Not ready to give up just yet, I ask him to just lay
down on the floor, and attempt to straddle him yet again... and finally
contact!
It is at that point I hear and FEEL another *pop* in
my knee!
I start screaming in pain, and he thinks
it's because of him, so he starts to buck around on the floor
like a fish out of water saying "Yeah baby! Take it
all!".
I couldn't take it
anymore, the pain in my knee and frustration led to a hysterical
laughing fit, I rolled off him laughing and crawled to my clothes, got
dressed as fast as I could while he's sitting there with this dazed and
confused look on his face and asking what's wrong. I couldn't even
stop laughing long enough to tell him how pathetic he was, just grabbed
my purse and limped to my car. He called me a few times after that and
left messages on my machine asking for another wonderful night like we
had. I finally I couldn't take it anymore and called him and informed him
the only way I would contemplate seeing him again was with lots of
expensive gifts, documentation of a penis enlargement surgery, and then
I would still have to have a lobotomy in order to make it work between
us. For some reason, he never called again.
It took an MRI and 6
months for the ligament tear in my knee to heal, and I never could stop
laughing long enough to tell my doctor just how I got the injury to
begin with.
Hope my story gives you as good of a laugh as it still does for me!
Jennifer’s Story…
He was sexy enough that I
was turned on just being close to him. This turned out to be a very good
thing because he didn't know how to do it himself. He believed that he had a
golden dick. He believed that when he had an erection, I was supposed to
have multiple empathetic orgasms. He didn't touch me or feel me up -
there was nothing but penetration. It was just plain tedious. I
tried to show him what to do, but he would have none of it. He said that
anything besides the "sex" was distracting. As he got closer
and closer to orgasm he kept saying over and over, "Don't scream. Don't
scream. The walls are thin." If I made a noise, it was because I was
thinking about the term paper that was due.
Afterwards, he was really
mad at me for not having an orgasm. So I did what any nerd would do, I
fished in my book bag for my Anatomy text so I could show him what and where
the clitoris was. He told me I was "spoiling the mood."
He also said that all his past girlfriends has screamed and shrieked.
Really? A) You have only done blow-up dolls before me and that was the
air coming out or B) They faked it so they could get rid of you and find a
nice, interesting, book to read. We didn't stay together after that. He complained that girls always dumped him
after sex. Surprise!
As always happens, I thought
of the perfect thing to say one week later:
"This isn't a black-tie
dinner. USE. YOUR. HANDS."
Vicki’s Story…
The worst sexual experience
of my life was with this guy I met in a nightclub. This in itself, on
reflection, should have made me at least suspect that the earth wouldn't move;
but I was 18 and naive, and more than usually idealistic - even taking into account
my tender years.
We had a couple of evening
dates with goodnight kisses, but nothing more. And then, one Sunday afternoon,
after a morning of heavy flirting and suggestion by text message that had
whipped us both up into a horny frenzy, he invited me over to his house for
some much-needed tension-relieving sex. But when I asked him what time he'd
like me to arrive, he insisted on picking me up in his car. I mean, INSISTED -
even though I had a car of my own. So, still not getting a clue (how dumb was
I?), I agreed, and he arrived at my house ten minutes later.
Remembering the next part
makes me cringe even more than the sex that ensued. When we got to the house,
he told me to stay in the car while he checked that his parents weren't in and
that none of the neighbours were watching. "What the FUCK?!" I
thought, but still didn't have the sense to get out of the car and RUN NOT WALK
home. When he had satisfied himself that the coast was clear, explaining that
if the neighbours saw him take a girl into the house they'd tell his
parents(!), he opened the front door and had me HURRY into the house under
cover of his jacket!! So in I scurried like a good girl (PUKE), and we went up
to his room.
Oh. My. Fucking. God. There
were TRANSFORMERS on his shelves. The actual toy robot thingies that turn into
cars and shit. The guy was 25 years old. And, of course, still lived with his
parents, which I was hitherto unaware of. He had never left home, in fact, as
he proudly told me when I commented on this.
My ardour was cooled to
Arctic levels by now, but I had this strange notion at the time that it would
be impolite to even mention this, let alone leave. So, I bore the soul-melting
embarrassment of him doing a striptease for me to Marvin Gaye's 'Sexual Healing'
(PUUUUUKE!), complete with 'sexy' swaying, ass-wiggling, lip-licking and
crotch-grabbing. Aaagh! I was drier than a camel's armpit after that ordeal,
but I still let him shove his (admittedly not entirely puny) penis into me,
after watching him struggle and fumble with the condom as if he were attempting
a tricky piece of latex origami, and somehow managed to endure five minutes of
strenuous humping, sweating and 'oh baby'ing. I never saw him again, but he did
start dating a friend of mine some time later, who confirmed his crapness as a
lover during one very booze-fuelled and giggly night out.
The main thing that makes
the whole experience so cringeworthy is my own failure to spot the red flags
and to do something about ensuring my own pleasure - staying home and having a
session with my vibrator, for preference. Luckily I did learn something
valuable from the situation: IF YOU DON'T WANT TO DO IT, DON'T. That goes for
life as well as sex.
A's Story...
I had been seeing this guy for a while, but had become disinterested and decided to break it off, which with my sex drive meant, one week and I was biting at the bit. So my roommate at the time suggested that maybe I should go for this friend of a guy she was trying to hook up with, that way she could invite them both over, her exact words being "He's not ENTIRELY unfortunate looking" Against my better judgment I agreed to spend an evening with the three of them and see where it went.
The dry, lack of interaction created more and more reason to continually drink, and drink I did. Four hours later, twelve sheets to the wind, I decided to go to bed and didn't object when trailing behind me was the drone. He proceeded to try to figure out how foreplay worked, and in his confusion, in combination with my drunken state I coined one of my now favorite lines "Aren't you supposed to be trying to get IN my pants, not ON my pants?"
Now, the average bloke would take that embarrassing opportunity to sleak out of the room with damaged pride, but he continued...points for perserverance, the only real problem being that this one nut wonder (I'm not kidding) still had no idea what he was doing.
Taking the initiative to try to guide him through I managed him out of his clothing and into, me...I think. I'm pretty sure he was in there, he seemed to think so, maybe if I had more then a minute and a half I would have felt it too.
Having hurt his ego
the next day when he came bouncing over to my house excited thinking we
were now "dating" my roommate (having already heard my warnings) decided
to spend some time 'comforting" his now bruised ego, ended up dating and
eventually marrying him...
She has never once enjoyed the sex as she will admit, and was happy that once married she was able to stop giving it up to him. They are now in the middle of getting a divorce...
Emma's Story...
I suppose I was a little naive back 15 years ago, and
had only had a couple of sexual experiences, but when
I finally 'landed' this complete hottie and trotted
back to his place, I thought I was moments away from
the mind-blowing stuff. With devine anticipation, I
reached down into his nether-worlds... but to my
dismay, I couldn't find anything! Trying to remain
calm, and a bit of casual searching later, I lay back
trying to disguise my earlier actions as 'foreplay',
and to save his blushes, 'decided' not to go through
with anything further.
Now in retrospect, I don't think I was aware that an
erect penis often points in the opposite direction
when excited and I would have had more luck searching
in the belly-button region.
Needless to say, it amuses me that this guy was such a
'gentleman', that he didn't bother guiding me in the
right direction. I still can't help but wonder, "What
if my original assumption was in fact correct?!". Not
my most satisfying experience!
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-Natalie
