Welcome to our new Friday feature on BCP, “The Best Sex I Never Had,” in which we invite our readers to submit their most humiliating, pathetic, and just-plain-awful sexual experiences for public consumption.  Seriously, email us!  It’s like a group therapy session with 1,000 of your closest friends.  You’ll feel so much better after you share.  If you would like to contribute, see the rules for submission at the end of this post.


Today, Katastic shares with us her memories of a special period in a young woman’s life, when she blooms like a fresh spring flower and embarks upon her Very First Time.  Regrettably, Katastic was not lain in a grassy meadow, her hair a glossy pillow, savoring her first sweet, gentle taste of lovemaking while the sun kissed her dewy skin.  Somehow, that is not what happened at all!  Join us in another Sad Tale of Tail…


Katastic writes:


The following is the awkward story of the loss of my virginity, and it is not for the faint of heart – Bangieb, you, in particular, may want to avert your eyes.


“Adam” was a teacher/musician and we had been dating for three months.  We spent the majority of our time cuddled together in his lightless, virtually heatless basement apartment, smoking weed, and ordering take-out.  I spent days puttering around his apartment in nothing but a pair of his old boxers and eating cereal straight from the box.  Adam was sensitive, sweet, loved to cuddle, and gave the most amazing head humanly imaginable – he was the perfect guy to lose my virginity to.


There was just one, tiny logistical problem.  Well, not tiny.


In fact, it was huge.  His schlong was huge.  And when I say huge, I mean the first time I saw it I gave a yelp of terror because, I swear to God, it had its own consciousness.  It had horns, as far as I was concerned.  I took an exact measurement, just to convince my friends who thought I was being hyperbolic.  Its girth was, in exact terms, equal to that of a Coke can.  And it was that thick all the way up, and it was a long way up – eight or nine inches.  It would make porn stars cross their legs and ask for extra money.


Imagine my predicament.  I was a 22-year-old virgin, and while now I can look back and say that’s no big deal, at the time, I was convinced that a freak flag was firmly planted on my forehead.  Just previous to Adam, I had been dumped by a guy I was wild about because my virginity spooked him.  I wanted to have sex, goddamnit.  I wanted to get it over with and be deflowered already so I could have all these great sexcapades my friends were always babbling about.  And I finally found this great guy, a sweet guy who was really into me – and I couldn’t get him into me, because he was the Milton Berle of Astoria.


Not that we didn’t try.  My God, did we try.  He went down on me for hours.  I would come five, six, seven times.  I smoked copious amounts of weed and found creative use for my yoga practice.  We tried lube, we tried fingers, we tried going painfully slowly – but the key word is “painfully.”  And poor Adam!  We weren’t only dealing with my issues.  He was so big that we had to go to the sex shop to buy the kind of condoms only designed for scary, massive vibrators.  It was just not going to happen.


This story has a sad ending.  Adam was a great guy, but when, after a few months, he gently suggested that (rather than dealing with the condoms) we both get tested and that I start taking the pill, I bolted.  I was afraid of commitment, I was afraid of the hormones from the pill, and I wanted to have those vaunted sexcapades.  When I “successfully” had sex for the first time, with someone I didn’t care about, it was painless and unmemorable.  I’ve been lucky enough to have (mostly) excellent, imaginative sex since then.  Like MyrtleBeachBum, I’ve been lucky.  I don’t know how accurate it is (what counts, really?), but though we were only partially successful, I’ve always counted Adam as my, er, deflowerer.


“Adam”, wherever you are, I’m sorry it didn’t work out…  But, baby – you’re #1!


Can you top Katastic’s story?  Is that good sex compared to what you’ve been through?  If you’d like to contribute a sad tale of tail, please email:  tarred.and.tailfeathered@gmail.com.  Keep it short, sweet, and as explicit as you like.  Include your preferred pseudonym.  Please also be factual — this is not “Penthouse Forum.” And that’s it!  We can’t wait to hear the gory details, so get to it.  They’re posted in the order in which they’re received.