That's how bad the sex was.
Granted, my expectations weren't that high. Let's backtrack.
I met him and his friend at a club. I started talking to his friend, let's call him Vince, because he resembled Vince Vaughn a bit. Vince kept the conversation going, but when I sat down and he didn't sit down next to me, I took that as my cue that he wasn't interested. I danced for a while, then talked a bit with his friend, who we'll call Jon, to keep the Swingers theme going.
Jon was cute, too, but Vince had more of an edge and magnetism. However, Vince seemed to be off the menu. However, I had I enough cues to know Jon was attracted to me (such as having a his tongue in my mouth).
The kissing was not spectacular. For one thing, he tasted of stale cigarettes. I'm not railing against smokers, I just think nic-addicts need to be extra-careful about their breath and this guy wasn't. For another thing, he kept doing the same thing with his tongue; there was no teasing, no light biting, I don't even think he kissed my jaw, neck or ears. Yawn. For whatever reason (I was buzzed, I was tired), I kept making out with him.
Vince came by after a while to say goodnight, and I gave him a "this could have been you" look that I'm sure he didn't notice.
I should have known that if the kissing was that mediocre, the sex would be worse, but I got it in my head (oh alcohol, you fiendish brain scrambler) that the sex might be better.
We got back to his place and got undressed. Foreplay was minimal, but I was turned on enough to have sex, so he got a condom.
I am not a size queen, but penis size does matter if you have no technique. Guys that are large usually don't have to work as hard to get a girl off, that's just the way it is. Guys that are not as genetically blessed have to work harder, but can still be excellent lovers. However, they need to make an effort.
Jon did make an effort. An effort not to come after 20 seconds. He had to keep pulling out in order to keep from spilling his seed. He also said how good it felt to be inside me. Flattering, but not exactly pleasurable for me considering that he was pacing himself at about four thrusts a minute.
It was awful.
It was the way I imagine having sex with a virgin would go, only this guy was in his 30's and I'm guessing (hoping) he was not a virgin. I've never deflowered a guy (that I know of), but would only do so if I had feelings for the person.
I thought maybe if I spent the night, the sex would be better the second or third time. Usually, the first time is the worst. Thing is, I wasn't dating Jon and didn't want to be.
Unfortunately, we're talking sex so bad, I couldn't bear the thought of sleeping next to him. As soon as the condom was disposed of, all I wanted was to be in a taxi, speeding me back towards my own apartment and my own bed.
As it always goes with Murphy's law as applied to dating, Jon called me. Less than 24 hours later. And sent two text messages, too. I wouldn't be surprised if he called again this week? Why is that? Let's repeat it, all together now:
The ones you don't like always call and the ones you do like never do.
I can't help wondering if things would have been different if I hooked up with Vince. Maybe he would have been a better kisser and better in bed (I doubt he could have been much worse, though I hate to tempt fate by saying such a thing).
Last week, I had a date with a guy (we'll call him Tom) and we ended up in a lengthy discussion on sex. Tom said that some people say sex is like pizza and that even bad sex is good, but he strongly disagreed. At the time I was in the pizza camp. For me, even if it lacked orgasms, sex usually provided something positive out of the experience (kissing, cuddling, closeness).
Now, I have to side with Tom. In the same way there is such a thing as bad pizza, some sex is that way, too:
Just plain bad.