Sunday, April 5, 2009

Episode 18: The Pianist

So I realize I've been off the grid for a bit, but a lot happened in a short period of time, and my long running celibacy came to a screeching halt recently. When I visited my family for the holidays, I almost blew it with an ex-boyfriend from high school (WHAT?!) but I held strong (not giving in to that childish bullshit) and instead had a lovely one-night stand with a friend, who I'm going to call The Pianist.

Before I begin, I will admit that this fling with my ex from high school hit me really hard. He was my first love, and for a second, I fell in love with him all over again. I think, however, I fell in love with an idea, a dream, really, someone from the past that I always wanted it to work with, but it never did... and never will. This came after much reflection and the culmination of the sexual tension between me and The Pianist, a close friend of The Fuck Buddy, who happened to be my first venture into post-boyfriend sexploration.

But back to the good stuff...

The Pianist and I have a long-standing history of flirtation, but nothing beyond that. I made out with him once, which was honestly quite electric, but really meant nothing. We were drunk... it happens. However, this time around, alcohol again lubricated things and it escalated quickly in a really public situation. Public really isn't my style, but fuck it, I'll make out with a boy under a blanket at a party.

Well, apparently we did for hours, and as everyone retired to their respective make out locations, The Pianist and I remained in the living room, on the inappropriately large couch of The Fuck Buddy's apartment. (Oops?) In my drunken state, I decided that fucking was an okay idea for our friendship, and told him to find a rubber. This apartment being the bachelor pad that it is, The Pianist suddenly produced one from some drawer somewhere and suited up.

I was expecting pain from my alarmingly regenerative vagina (a blessing and a curse); I figured I had re-virginized myself with my 5 month celibacy. Upon entry, I was thrilled at the fact it was effortless and painless. I practically threw a party in my brain.

And then for what must be the millionth time in my life, I realized it was a "it's not me, it's you" situation: The Pianist had a 5" SKINNY dick. We're talking expo pen.

I honestly don't remember much of it except for the displacement of pillows, the grunting, and me being not satisfied. I think he went down on me for about 30 seconds, and then decided that he'd rather just fuck me. I kept pulling him into me, hoping he'd be deeper, but this tiny dick thing was not doing the trick. It didn't even feel good, I guess. It didn't feel like anything.

I woke up the next morning with a naked man draped over me in the horribly bright light of morning glaring through the living room windows. Yuck. I peeled him off of me (literally) and went home and passed out (regrettably without a shower.) I woke up hours later to discover was bruised, not from him thrusting me, but from me slamming into him in hopes of feeling SOMETHING. (Great, so I got to feel it the next morning. Blegh.) What a tragic failure.

He texted me later that day with a girlish "we cool?" Yeah, we're cool. Stop being so insecure. Pros of this experience: breaking my celibacy record and squashing the sexual tension. (Am I sure these are pros?) Cons of the experience: bruises.

I didn't think there was such a thing as a dick that was too small. In fact, I've spoken pretty openly about how a small dick is kind of nice sometimes - guys will overcompensate in other areas, and quite frankly, that's what gets me off. However, this time, lesson learned: there is such a thing as a dick that is too small.