Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Performance anxiety
Ack! The clock is ticking. I’m running out of time for Renee’s Global Orgasm Day contest. But sex isn’t funny; it runs the gamut from exhilarating to pathetic, but funny? It takes someone of Roald Dahl’s talent to make orgasms funny (see “Bitch,” in his collection Switch Bitch).
Upon rereading, I see it doesn’t have to be a funny orgasm story. Just has to be an orgasm story. ‘Kay, I can do that. I’ll give you a pathetic orgasm story.
In the dorms, my roommate used to screw one of our fellow dormies. (These were co-ed dorms, you see. We even had co-ed bathrooms.) I didn’t mind it so much, even though I had a thing for her, too. But once, my asshole roomie screwed her in OUR room with ME in there, too. Guess he figured I would sleep through it.
I lay there listening to them. They tried to make as little noise as possible, so all I could hear was the thumping and the squeaky-spring-squeaking and it was — well, when I could get past being pissed off at my roomie, I had to admit it was arousing, too. I, too, tried to make as little noise as possible; I didn’t want to distract them.
I wanted to see (hear, really) how this would end.
It didn’t take long. Sorry, Joe, but I’m not going to lie for you. I’ll bet you would like me to claim I lay there for over an hour, wondering if it would ever end, but in truth, I barely had time to figure out what I would say to you the next day*.
Five minutes? Okay, six. I’ll give you six.
When it was over, I heard the first non-thumping, non-squeaking sound from them: her disappointed whimper.
If you ever read this, gorgeous, will you please tell me why you only screwed the losers? Were you one of these women who had a bad-boy fetish or something? I hope you’ve wised up since then.
One way or another, I would have left you satisfied. I consider it a point of honor.
D.
*Oh, it was quite the zinger, just what you would expect from an accomplished Man of Words.
“You know, I heard you two last night.”
“Um. You did?”
“Yeah. I did.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
In any case, it never happened again.
Well I can understand there is some performance anxiety involved. But maybe you can take some deep breaths and relax.
It might help if you focused on the main topic of World Peace,how orgasms can be connected to it and your experience of channeling positive energy during it. That would certainly make a better story than the one above.
Mon dieu! A true believer.
Thanks for stopping by, I think.
I was in the top bunk when my Freshman roomate and her boyfriend did the deed. Imagine those noises along with feeling the vibrations of a very vigorous and unskilled humping shaking your own bed. Only difference was that I did not find roomie’s boyfriend attractive at all and it lasted more like 3 minutes. I wish I had the chutzpah to say something to them but I was pretty timid back then and was to embarassed.
Truly one of those “look back with regret” memories. Don’t you wish you would have said, “Is that it?“
“disappointed whimper”
That will stay with me a long, long time.
It’s kind of amazing how many people have these kinds of stories. I have one myself, though in my case it lasted a bit longer, involved strangers, and included lots of conversation on their part – and it was excrutiating to be an unwilling witness (or listener, as the case may be).
*wincing* I was on the other side of that embarrassment in college–when my boyfriend’s next-door neighbor in the dorm asked us oh-so-politely in the morning if we could keep it down.
fiveandfour: I want to hear that conversation! Minus the sound effects, naturally.
Darla: for that matter, Karen and I were at the wrong end of it back when we lived in married student housing. Too bad for us that our next door neighbor fervently believed sex to be an unforgivable sin. Anyway, if we’re going to include sex-heard-through-walls, I’ll bet LOTS of folks have stories. Sex right in the same room, though — I thought that was special.
Laughs. well, it’s only fair that I pitch in on this one…
When I was living at a friend’s house (nicknamed the “House of Sin” appropriately enough) my boyfriend and I were often overcome during the day. One afternoon, we went downstairs & outside to smoke (a habit I have since quit, as well quitting the guy…) and some other roommates came out.
“You know,” one said, “I just had to stand outside the door and listen. I just really like hearing Renee.” (He’s gay, and I was embarrassed, but oddly pleased too.)
Gabby said, “You make the cutest little noises. I always smile when I’m downstairs and hear you.”
Not all of my roommates have been so amused by me, sadly.
Well, for that, there was AIT and the Pervos.
Ah, hell. Rather than hijack your comments, I’ll just post the story on my own blog. My schedule’s all screwed up there, anyway. Stupid holiday season.
Here you go: the Pervos
Do you know it has taken me this long to even READ these stories…
Jeez!
Well done, sir!
Thanks, Tilde!