*side note
I drank a NOS energy drink and I don't even know what NOS sounds like but I bought it anyway because we all know what a Monster is, and a Red Bull, and a Rockstar (I picture Steven Tyler and he's creepy), but I didn't know what a NOS was so I got it and now I am tweaking out like a tweaker person and my teeth are chattering but I'm not cold because my nips aren't out and its just an awful feeling. And I'm scared to watch the rest of that movie Dogtooth because it was creepy like Steven Tyler creepy and my ADD comes out really bad with energy drinks ohmygod.
Many of you may look at this and just think 'oh, there's that dollar conditioner I accidently bought because it was cheap and ended up making my hair look like a Booniqua weave that got ripped out in a fight at the local bowling alley after getting entagled in some girl's high heel'. To me, I see something much different.
I just realized family members of mine might read this story.
You guys.
Obviously I'm still a virgin. Until I'm married. So this is like, fiction.
/end disclaimer.
Let's do this.
Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo wayyyy back in the day (6 years ago), I decided I wanted to bang.
Back in high school, I had this really unrealistic, and sexually frustrating, idea when it came to how relationships were gonna go. My poor boyfriends. I literally didn't put out.
Anyways. I had a flow chart, and this is how I thought it should go:
Date for a month: Make out
Date for 3 months: Finger/Handy J
Date for 6 months: Oral intercourse
Date for a year: Intercourse via pen.
For realz, I swore by that. If I were a calendar keeper, I'd probably mark like at 6 months in my Anne Geddis "Creepy Babies Posing With Oversized Vegetables" calendar "bj time."
Alas, I had an amazing bf in high school who put up with all of my nonsense, and rules and somehow didn't force me to have sex after a year, even though it should be acknowledged like one would acknoweldge Flag Day.
Side note.
Seriously, what the fuck is Flag Day.
Then I got to college and all of this went out the window (entry tomorrow: hot tub time machine).
3 months? 3 BEERS.
6 months? 6 TEQUILA SHOTS.
College makes us all slutty. The people we meet didn't know us when we wore sweatpants to school with headgear arranged over our bowl cuts as we drew stussy S's on our Lisa Frank notebooks. They only know us as the new college girls who are hot just by being college girls and came out of the womb with perfectly straightened hair and perfectly did makeup and never had an awkward phase. If this entry sucks, blame the NOS.
So let's FF (fast forward) (well that took the purpose out of abbreviating it) to when I was 19. I had slutted it up my freshman year, and I was looking to lead a more respectable life. I had just gotten out of a kind of weird relationshippy situation, and was somewhat heartbroken. That's where he came in.
That's where he came in.
Odd how fitting that sentence was.
He was my best friend forever status minus the broken heart necklace with best and friend that we each wore. We went to the gym together. We went to the cafeteria together (maybe because we were the only sophomores with meal cards...), we did everyting together. Then one night, we made out and it was like psh ok. We made out. Then like we made out some more. Then it was like okay man, let's not make out anymore we are bff's and bff's don't do that!
And then one night I decided I wanted to lose my virginity.
I really wish I had more of an explaination for this...but it really was that simple.
All my friends were doing it, and I didn't want to wait any longer (I mean I was a prude 19 year old) and plus it seemed like why not lose it to your best buddy? I wasn't insecure or self concious around him, and best of all, he was a virgin too! It was a like Virgin Party of 2, your table is ready, our main entree is Reverse Cowgirl and a modified Doggy Style for her comfort.
So he came over one night after we discussed the act we were going to partake in. Oddly enough, it was after midnight, thus making it October 31st, thus making it by far the scariest Halloween ever!
At this time, I had a bit of a flu going on, so I decided that before I was going to lose my virginity for the second time (reference: jetski hymen), I was going to take massive amount of Nyquil to ease my symptoms. For those of you who have ever taken Nyquil, that shit makes you HIGH and then gives you fucked up visions.
I literally slept/hallucinated through the first three bases.
I was pretty sure I was picking corn in Cambodia with Adrian Brody while a harp seal wrote a new Declaration of Independence on the benefits of watching at least 4 episodes of Roseanne a day.
Like that out of it.
Third base? What's that?
Finally it came time for the main event, and as we prepared, I didn't feel nervous or giddy or anything. I felt comfortable with my decision, pretty sleepy, but totally on the same page as him.
I waited for like candle lighting to magically appear and for Celine Dion to pop out of my closet singing that Titanic shitshow of a song.
Instead it was like...
You ready?
Yeah, dude let's go.
Ok.
::insertion::
Ok not that fast of insertion. Wait I'm not talking like us anymore, I'm like interjecting as me right now. Before we banged, I wanted to be safe, you know? I mean we were both virgins, and he came from a healthy family, but what if he like secretely got the HIV during wrestling practice? Uh uh. So, I was like dude do you have a condom and he was like no. Then I remembered something.
Someone got me a birthday card with a condom in it. So I like dug through my dresser butt ass naked and found the birthday card with the condom in it.
It didn't even cross my mind how many people in the store had probably touched that condom. Or if that was even a real condom. All I knew was it said 'condom' and was funny. And condoms are hella funny.
So he goes to put it on, cause I sure as hell wasn't gonna help, and then he minorly breaks down.
He's like I'm kind of self concious.
And I'm like dude why? As I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, such a flattering position with my 8 stomach rolls and my squashed together thighs.
And he's like, I don't know if I'm big enough, I'm self concious.
And I'm like dude...you felt kind of big...have you ever measured?
And he's all yeah...I'm 8 and a half inches on a good day, but usually around 8 and a quarter.
.................................................................
um.
what?
WHA.
Isn't my vagina like 3 inches deep? Where the hell are those other 5 inches gonna go, and most importantly where is that extra quarter of an inch gonna fit? Like, are you going to cause internal damage? And you fucking should be self concious, you are like the goddamn elephant man down there dude.
But I didn't say that.
Instead I was like umm dude you are huge put it in me.
Ok I didn't say that either.
We talked and I reassured him, all the while debating if that one time I used a Super Plus would have prepared me for this.
Well, it didn't.
We first tried Missionary
hold up.
like I really hope my family doesn't read this. If you are stop now. Please.
So we tried Missionary, and SHOCKING it didn't go in. It was like my vagina was a network of mortars and heard '8 inches' and it was like the Titanic when it was sinking. The mortars were the dudes in the bottom level shoveling coal like mad into the furnaces to propel the ship after it got hit.
They literally furnished a brick wall.
He literally said "I feel like I've hit a brick wall."
I didn't know what to do, so we tried another posish.
Doggy Style didn't work.
Me on Top didn't work.
It just wasn't going in.
I swear, at one point I like stood on top of my bookshelf and jumped on his dick and it still didn't go in.
Then I got an idea.
Lightbulb.
I swore that I had heard somewhere that you could use hair conditioner as lube in case you didn't have any handy. It had the same consistancy as lube (which I know know is NOT true) and it was safe to use on your lady berry during intercurse.
Being that I was a poor college student, the only conditioner I had was V05 Hawaiian Tropic.
(what kind of guy let's a girl do this)
So I paused our fornication and went into the bathroom, got a handful of conditioner and lubed us both up.
It sort of worked, but not really. But then it sort of did. Then I remember saying 'are you almost done' and now I realize that's really rude.
And then it started to burn.
Like really burn.
And tingle?
But not the good kind of lady berry tingle. Like the 'what the fuck were you thinking putting conditioner inside of me' kind of tingle.
And I told him he needed to go home because I wasn't sure what the hell had just happened. So he tried to spend the night and cuddle, and I was like dude GO HOME. You literally live three doors down, go home. (that explains a lot)
So there I was. I had just lost my virginity to a robocop of a dick wearing a birthday card condom covered in cheap conditioner as lube.
Is this how it was supposed to be?
The next day I woke up, and my lady was just on fire. She was burning, and smelled like the Hawaiian Islands. I was literally queefing out Kauai.
It continued like that for a week. I'd get weird like surges of pain and then the room would smell like a luau. Ok not that intense, but it was weird.
And then one day I was healed. My vagina stopped feeling like Pearl Harbor and all was well. And then he wanted to have sex again and I was like um hell no. Then he brought strawberry lube and I was like hell no.
I fucking hate strawberry.
Cherry, fruit punch, those are acceptable red flavored stuff.
Strawberry, no.
Um when did I get standards? I just got fucked with conditioner.
I later researched where I had heard that you could use conditioner as lube, and I realized that it was an extremely bad case of misheard information.
You can't use conditioner as lube.
You can use lube to condition your skin if you get the right kind.
Oops.
So needless to say, I'm surprised I'm not preaching absitenence education with Sarah Palin, and sueing V05 for their biological weaponery they created.
Instead, I now have learned that the free samples of lube and condoms given out on the college campus are an essential dorm supply.
And to tell my little vaginal mortars to hold their brick building.
And that when my roommate tells me she's going to try anal sex and then comes in my room at 2 am asking if I have any of the free lube samples I got from a table from campus, and then literally takes 20 packets, that I probably should have just been like wait dude...I have a better idea.
Take this instead.
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