There are plenty of sex-related ER horror stories as there are general sexual disasters. I suspect that there are more tales of mysterious rectal entrances by torches, aerosol cans and giant cucumbers than disappearances over the Bermuda Triangle, and I’m betting that all of us experience some type of disaster.
I’ve had male friends experiencing their first rush of cyber sex to end up with a male virtual partner. Things, like microphones can slip. People can and do fall asleep online to reveal more than they care to.
Well into adulthood, my sex life is as disaster free as I can make it. I always make sure I understand everything that will come to pass. Any new stuff is to be discussed beforehand. My motto is very simple: No sudden and unexplained movements.
From the very beginning, my first sexual experience, disaster seemed to hover like a menacing cloud shadowing my eagerness for the two E’s: to experience and experiment. My first lover practically fell asleep after too many Tequila shots. He was – literally – a two stroke engine. Indeed, it was an awkward…five seconds…
Then there is the taboo of all conventional coital taboos: butt sex. With another boyfriend and in the throes of the conventional variety of doggy style push, pull, sweat and tickle, I experienced the uninvited guest that was his dick in my rear end and ended up sporting a fugly bump on my forehead, having to dodge questions about its origin. It wasn’t like I could tell them about the anal moment.
There are plenty of books about sex disasters. Excerpts of disasters like forgetting to take the contraceptive pill are in Sex Disasters and How to Survive Them, which is excerpted on excerpts on Carnal Nation. Then there are physical disasters that probably require hospital stays (and other invasive procedures).
Cosmo has interesting feedback on sexual horror stories that have a running theme: bad body hygiene. As in…stale sweat and, wait for it…butt odor or, for uncircumcised…smegma build up. These are followed by physical mishaps:
I cant think of the worst time but there was one time when my bf was lying on top of me and I went to move my arm and somehow stabbed him really hard in the nostril with my finger. He let out a big owww and then looked at me. Then loads of blood started dripping out all over my face and lovely cream coloured bed covers.
Getting through sexual disasters is important but what necessarily constitutes a disaster?
For me, my first experience with a drunk older (I assumed older was synonymous with sexual experience) partner was the very disaster that prolonged sex. If it was that disastrous, I thought, then what was the point in pursuing it?
Luckily life doesn’t work like that. Depending on the disaster, the move beyond disaster requires a little sexual restructuring and prioritization. For my disasters, it was about recognizing baseless hormonal attraction (which doesn’t necessarily translate to great sex) or someone’s outer appearance. In terms of contraception, disasters can be reduced by education.
As for the other variety of sexual disaster, the mysterious appearance of a cylindrical object to a place where the sun doesn’t shine…I am not sure how long it takes to move beyond that experience, but any experiential feedback is welcome.
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