When casual sex goes terribly, horribly wrong.
I don't remember his name or his face, but I'll always remember him. He was from Afghanistan but I don't know how relevant that is to this sex story. All I know was meeting him changed my life forever.
It was a long time ago, when I was single and in a bit of a sexual experimentation phase. OK, I was kind of promiscuous. I had a bad breakup and had been single and celibate for years.
Then, I discovered the internet and went wild. I was living with my friend who'd just come out as gay and he was having quite a bit of casual sex. And with those Sex and the City women having sex every which way, it seemed as if that's how it was done.
We were all independent, strong people with needs, and as long as we had safe sex and made sure that a number of people knew where we were going and with whom, it was cool.
Recently, it's been revealed that there are actually benefits to having casual sex. You can be completely selfish and think only of your sexual needs. You can get a release without any strings and if the sex isn't any good you can just move on to the next person.
Most of the time, you have casual sex with someone you know but aren't in a romantic relationship with, or someone that you meet via Tinder, or some other app.
Since I literally don't remember his name, let's call him Stan. Stan from Afghanistan. We met online, exchanged pictures, chatted on the phone — the regular stuff that people did before swiping.
After a few weeks of this, we decided to meet for some adult fun.
Stan lived in a tiny house behind the house that his family lived in. It was a dark night, but he still snuck me in. I don't think he wanted his parents to know he had a woman in his room.
He seemed happy enough to see me and gave me a big hug. For some reason, he didn't want our encounter to be in the bedroom (?!) and spread a sheet onto the floor. We started kissing and it was OK.
I wasn't that attracted to him and thought about packing up and leaving, but I'd driven all that way. I could tell he wanted oral when he whipped out his penis. (I do understand subtle human behavior.)
I obliged and have to say I did an excellent job at giving him a BJ. Everybody knows that in the no-strings-attached casual sex world, if you perform oral on someone, it's good for them to return the favor. It's just good manners, people!
He took off my clothes in a fairly disinterested way, and I wonder if that should've been my first clue that my sex date wasn't as into it as I would've liked. I lay down on the sheet on the floor, spread my legs, and he went to work.
I can be extremely sensitive in the clitoral area, and when I became convinced that he was trying to bite something off down there, I asked him to please be a bit more gentle. Maybe lick around the clitoral hood?
My suggestions didn't seem to go over too well, for he popped back up and asked, "Do you have a yeast infection? Your vagina stinks." He continued on this subject for what seemed like hours — all about what could make me smell like a dead fish sandwich made on yeasty dough.
I was so shocked and humiliated, I wanted to crawl somewhere and die. I showered before making the trek to his house, and no one had ever said I had a smelly vagina before.
Not only didn't I have a yeast infection, I had no sexually transmitted diseases of any kind, and was really good about seeing my lady-parts doctor every year.
He made a motion to resume oral sexing me, but reconsidered and reached out to touch my breasts. I recoiled, jumped up — the shock of having been told that I smelled was beginning to wear off. I mainly felt anger and outrage as I put my clothes back on.
"Why are you leaving," He asked. "We're just getting started. Once I put a condom on, I won't worry ..."
I couldn't hear another word or even look at him. I was dressed and out the door before he even finished his sentence. He followed me out to a row of potted plants that must've acted like a division line between his house and his parents.
I was tempted to make a loud scene so they'd know what a total assh*le their son was, but just wanted to get back home. I desperately needed to take another shower to try and wash the horribleness of everything off me.
Later, he sent me an email about how disappointed he was that our encounter hadn't lasted longer and did I want to try again. I deleted it and any contact information I had for him.
The whole thing turned me off so badly that I never again had any kind of non-relationship sex again.