After my vicious dumping and a few weeks of no GOOD sex, I knew it was time to get a fuck buddy. I was not emotionally ready for a relationship but I was in need of a decent lay. Obviously, I’m not counting the blind thrashing I got from my ex-neighbor (Z), whom I actively avoided after that. (Fun Fact: The next day Slaw said to me, “So have you talked to Z yet?” I replied, “Who is Z??” I guess that shows how quickly I blocked the incident out of my mind.)
So I went with ShaSha back to our old stomping grounds, The Steer. We happened to be rolling deep with a bunch of douchey soccer players; not my usual type of guy but I was willing to branch out and give it a shot. As the night went on, I grew particularly interested in one of the players. He was only 5’9ish, so WAY shorter than my normal limit of 6 feet but I was desperate and, surprisingly, there are not many guys taller than 6 feet. He had really long lashes and nice lips, so I graced him with a bar make out (not even close to my first one that year, but whatever). After many more shots, I finally accepted his incessant invitations to go back to his place and hopped in a cab (I may or may not have flirted with the cabbie the whole ride and he may or may not have slipped a nugget of marijuana to me).
When we got to his house, we made out for a bit and he tried to go “downtown.” I wasn’t ready for that type of intimacy, so I urged him to continue making out while I debated in my head what was going to happen. Finally, I decided that we would just have sex and be done with the whole thing... I would get my fix and never have to see him again. I conveyed this through a series of tugs and soon his pants were off and his junk exposed. Let me say here that I hooked up with at least two guys with uncircumcised junks. I, unlike many girls my age, am not afraid of a doo-wop that still has its top hat. What he presented, however, was different than anything I had ever seen. For your convenience, I have drawn a picture (to scale).Not only was it the second smallest erection I had ever seen (the smallest was LITERALLY the size of my pinky. I thought it was a joke penis when I first saw it), but it had this confusing built in reservoir tip. All I could think of was the game Oregon Trail and the point in the game when you got to Chimney Rock. I remember thinking, “Does this guy get any action with this Chimney Rock dick?” But what I said was, “No. No. No. No. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Oh my god, I can’t do this.” All while locking my eyes on his strange penis. He tried bartering with me, promising me the best oral sex I could imagine. I kept reiterating, “I have to go home, I have to go home, I have to go home. I can’t do this. I REALLY can NOT do THIS,” never ever taking my eyes off of Chimney Rock Dick. I finally averted my gaze, grabbed my clothes and began my departure, planning to throw up as soon as I exited. As I left, he begged me not to tell anyone what had happened. I assured him that since we generally did not share the same group of friends, it would never get out and he had nothing to worry about.
You can imagine my surprise when the following Monday, he came into my 200 person class and sat right down next to me. I turned to him, not realizing at first who he was, and we shared shock as we mutually recognized each other. I sat, jaw dropped and he wordlessly grabbed his stuff and completely left the classroom. I wish I could say that he dropped the class but I noticed him a few times after that, though I changed my seat and never encountered him again. Even worse, I was talking to one of his Russian teammates a few months later and we got in a fight because I was making fun of him for being Russian. In retaliation, he called me a slut, saying I fucked Chimney Rock Dick. Appalled, I was forced to tell him the story and though the Russian was disgusted, we shared a hearty laugh and ended our fight. Another beautiful story of friendship as a result of Chimney Rock, though this one is a never a destination one shoots for.