I Think I F@cked a Dwarf…
As a high school student, I had a memory like a steal trap. Now it’s more like a cardboard box one leaves out on the floor in the hopes a cat will opt to sit in it. If you are anything like me (and if you aren’t, you might be in the wrong place) we simply don’t remember things as vividly as we once did. I drowned my experiences in so much liquor that a coworker could tell me I was topless in third period, and I would have no choice but to believe it was true. For example, I once woke up having developed a rather large and menacing bruise about the size of a grapefruit squarely on my hip.
Thankfully my roommate explained, I had fallen down the stairs. Without witnesses such mysteries have remained unsolved. And often they did!
For example, another notable bruise appeared while I was living alone. I drank a fifth of vodka and woke up with a doughnut shaped bruise surrounding tiny puncture marks emblazoned across my knee.
The only explanation I can fathom is that I rolled off my couch onto a fork on the floor…
However, I am open to other theories…
I had so many random drunken experiences during this period in my life. The vast majority of these forgotten experiences are sexual. I had repressed my sexuality all through high school. Even through college, I was pure as the driven snow. But even the snow gets plowed occasionally! I didn’t even have my first kiss until I was twenty-one!!!
My mission in my mid-twenties was to catch up. I wanted to fuck every man I possibly could. I collected men like Girl Scout patches. Tall men, short men, big men, thin men. I set out to fuck the entire rainbow. I had sex with every different type of engineer I could find, and I truly wish that was a joke (thinking back on this long forgotten conquest category, I’m surprised by how fervently denied my daddy issues) In my misguided effort to experience sexual variety, I became the frat boy of black out one night stands.
But all things must come to an end.
Six months into sobriety, I actually worked at a bar. The only thing that really changed in my life was that when I brought strangers home for anonymous sex, I was actually able to remember the experience. Much of my twenties still remain a mystery but some of my blacked out evenings have come back to light. After several months of alcohol abstinence, I stood alone at the bar, washing the beer mugs. All at once my memory returns: I think I fucked a dwarf.
To be fair, he did most of the fucking… And a little bit of catfishing. This particular gentlemen had very handsome selfies where he very strategically did not show his body. All of his pictures only showed him from the neck up. But I did not think anything until he arrived at my apartment. Back then, I had an unhealthy habit of being so trusting, so naive, and so unsafe that I would instruct my tinder matches to arrive at my doorstep with a bottle of vodka.
For anyone who doesn’t know this yet. DO NOT GIVE YOUR HOME ADDRESS TO STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET!!
I am not an expert on dwarfism. I don’t even know if it is still referred to as “dwarfism.” However, when I opened my apartment door, I was surprised to see that this man was about one foot shorter than me. Being that I was, and still am, 5’3… this would mean my suitor for the night was a little person.
Like the majority of my hookups, he was a man… with some booze and an erection. Back then those were the only standards I had, and depending on the booze, the erection was optional.
So I welcomed him into my apartment...
I do not remember what we did while we drank. I assume we followed my standard M.O. and watched stand up comedy on Netflix while sharing the tale of how we lost our respective virginities. But for some reason this night, I decided I would rather go to sleep alone. I was in fact, a seventh grade math teacher at the time so this would be the wise choice on a school night. However, I was rarely the person to do the “wise” thing. And I didn’t know how boundaries or respect worked since clearly, at twenty-four years old… I didn’t have any for myself or others.
I can clearly recall myself standing at the door of my old apartment, asking this little person to leave. He begs “Baby please. No. Baby baby baby please.” My memory may be unreliable but the tone and cadence of his voice as he mumbled the words, “Baby. Baby, Please.” have been fresh in my mind ever since the memory washed over me during my first attempt at sobriety.
I wanted to sleep but I literally thought I would be able to just starfish and move on with my evening. To my surprise, I squirted for the first time in my life that night. This man fucked me like a rabbit, literally. He mounted me and humped at a rate commiserate to a thousand pumps per second. He was built for speed and jack-hammered my pussy. Typically, I don’t enjoy that but coincidentally, he was pounding directly on my G-spot. The typical sexual experience is not pleasurable without a considerate amount of foreplay and communication. However, this was not the typical sexual experience. I did not expect the level of skill and stamina displayed in my bedroom that night.
He had a herculean grip on my hips and did not stop thrusting after I came. He did not stop after I came AGAIN. I begged for him to bust. Its an incredibly rare happenstance, but I was climaxing and falling asleep simultaneously. It wasn’t until my genitals erupted like a broken fire hydrant that he finished into the condom and dismounted with the flair of an Olympic gymnast. So while I had originally wanted to sleep, I ended up having at least three very strong orgasms and ruining my bed sheets. I did not need to ask him to leave my apartment a second time. This stranger practically skipped out my door obviously leaving me to clean up the mess alone. Luckily, I was a total hot mess, so I simply pushed all my sheets to the floor and slept on my bare mattress. I slipped into the deep sleep of a satisfied slut and surprisingly, I was at work on time the next day.
I would like to make clear, that these posts are not a guide. I am not writing a how-to on becoming a sex worker or providing a guide to being naive. I know many people have been that unsafe, unhealthy, unhappy person, the same person I was back in my twenties. I do not recommend being like that person!! I’m hoping to find people who relate to these stories. Not people who aspire to have similar experiences. For all the adults who are not the same hot mess you once were: I hope you enjoy my stories.