Ten Inches of Disappointment

Hi again. Yes, I’m still alive. And yes, I know we’re almost entirely done with 2017 and I still have yet to update you on any dates from 2016.  But since I recently completely ended things with the guy I’d been regularly hooking up with for almost two full years, I’m too poor to go out until Christmas money starts coming in (really counting on you, fam), and the red wine I’m drinking is making me feel creative, I figured I’d finally brush the dust off these posts I’ve had drafted forever and send them off into the world.

As I’ve mentioned before, 2016 was a bit of a wild year for me and so only a few will be getting a dedicated blog post. But the ones I do post will be in chronological order… and fortunately, this first one is one of my all-time faves.  Prepare to be indulged.

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Let me start by laying out the scene for you because this was not a pre-planned date or meet-up or anything of that sort. It was a Thursday night after work in January 2016, and I was getting ready to leave the bar I’d been drinking at for a fundraiser for the past few hours (funny enough, the fundraiser was hosted by the guy I mentioned I just ended things with, and this happened literally two weeks before we hooked up the first time). I was drunk, but nothing outrageous. My coworker friend left at the same time as me and she hopped in a cab while I continued walking by myself towards the subway which is how I decided I was going to get home. All of this I completely remember. Then…

Part 1: The Shortest Blackout of My Life

I must have blacked out for a total of 2 minutes tops. It could not have been more than that because next thing I know, I’m no more than 30 paces from the exit of the bar, and I’m making out with some random guy. On the sidewalk. No clue who this guy is. Never seen him in my life.

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Since there was no one else around, I have to rely on what he said happened as truth. Apparently he saw that I had just left the bar to which he was headed, he asked me a question which is what got us talking… and then we started making out. Honestly, at the time I was so confused but also intrigued that I didn’t dig too much more into it. Plus, we continued making out on the sidewalk so that kind of limited conversation. I KNOW this makes no sense but he was super tall and a decent kisser, so I just went with it. That had literally been the shortest blackout of my life because from this point forward, I remember everything.

Part 2: From the Uber to the Park

I told him I had to get back home, and he said he had to go back as well.  Again, I really wasn’t wearing my Olivia Benson hat because otherwise I would’ve called his bullshit since he had just told me he had been on his way to the bar when we started talking. But I digress. So he ordered an Uber, saying he’d have it drop me off then continue on to his apartment. Since the plan was to go our separate ways, we swapped phone numbers then made out the entire ride to my neighborhood. I had the driver drop me off at the park near my apartment since I didn’t want him to know which building I lived in. Cuz yano, gotta look out for my safety.  Then he hops out of the car as well, and probably because I was super turned on at this point, I didn’t get creeped out at the fact that this guy was essentially following me. Cuz yano, I was clearly looking out for my safety.  We continued to make out on the park bench for a few minutes… then he decided he had something important to tell me.

Him: “I have a huge dick.”

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Me: “Oh, uh, ok, did I just hear you correctly?”

 

 

Him: “Yes, I have a 10″ cock.”

Naturally, the only response I had to that was, “Ok, let’s see it.” So I took him back to my apartment to avoid the risk of arrest for indecent exposure. Cuz yano, safety.

Part 3: The Fun Begins

Once in my apartment, I took him immediately into my bedroom and closed the door.  He tore my top off, but I stopped him before he could get his hands on any other articles of clothes because there was a purpose he was there: I wanted to see this gigantic penis of his.  I made him remain standing, and my skepticism was building as I was unbuckling his belt because I wasn’t seeing or feeling anything yet. Pants drop. Still nothing. Boxers off… flaccid.

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I’m not sure about any of you, but having a limp dick stare at you in the face when you were expecting this 10″ rod is not only disappointing but also super gross. They are not cute. It’s one thing when they’re only at least partially hard, but when the sucker is just dangling there lifelessly, then there is zero chance I will be doing anything with it. You gotta meet me at least part of the way there.

So with his pants and boxers still around his ankles, I stand up in front of him and ask, “Alright, where is it? I only see about two inches here.” His first plan of action was to begin aggressively jerking off tugging at his worm-like penis, but that had no effect at all. Next, he asked me to take my bra off; feeling bad for the guy/still wanting to see this ten-incher, I did just that and we made out against the wall for a bit. No luck. Still soft.

This brought him to his last attempt at trying to get hard: telling me to put my mouth on it.

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For the record, I actually really don’t mind giving head to people who I’m hooking up with regularly and trust.  But strangers are a totally different story.  Now add in the fact that this stranger’s p was also soft, and it was enough to completely kill my DTF-status that night. It was time this ended.

I grabbed my shirt, put it back on, and immediately I saw the panic in his eyes that this might not be happening for him. Things turned savage pretty quickly.

Me: “It’s time that you go.”

Him: “No! I just need another minute!”

Me: “At this point, I have no reason to believe you are even close to 10 inches.”

Him: “I make girls cum like crazy, you have no idea.”

Me: *major eye roll at his last comment* “Congratulations but I’m ordering you an Uber.”

Him: “NO! You are so hot! I will die if I leave here tonight without fucking you!”

Me: “Please don’t die, but you are leaving.”

Him: “Let me go down on you, and then I’ll be ready to fuck you.”

Me: “Nahhh I’m all set.” *ordered him an Uber*

Fortunately, the Uber didn’t take too long to get there, and I managed to force this guy out the door. Unfortunately, I had given my number to him earlier in the Uber together. I’ve since deleted the texts, but based on his confident tone, he clearly did not pick up on the fact that he failed pretty miserably that night. After not responding to his persistent texts for about two weeks, I finally replied saying he must have the wrong number.

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Despite that one and only reply, I continued to receive occasional messages from him as if I’d never said anything. Aside from one or two texts where he said he was going to be in the neighborhood and was going to stop by (thankfully, he never did), the rest of what he sent me were desperate attempts to get me to meet up with him. I kept my silence, and eventually he stopped trying.

So there you have it. This is what set the tone for my 2016 dating hookup single life.

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8 thoughts on “Ten Inches of Disappointment

  1. Also, kudos to you for making him leave! Too many a woman will put up with- and even suck on a limp dick rather than shatter a man’s ego.

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