Welcome back to our Friday feature on BCP, “The Best Sex I Never Had: Sad Tales of Tail,” 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.

As last week was something of a (safe!) sex overload, we took a break to give you time to recover, get some water, maybe stretch a little before you slip back between the sheets.  We’re back this week with a contribution from the alluring BeckySharper, who kindly illustrates for us a new method of dry-humping that will leave you crying on the inside, if not actual tears.  Cringe with us after the jump and discover a new kind of over-the-counter birth control.

BeckySharper writes:

Ari was a 22-year-old scarily handsome Israeli.  Swarthy, muscular, piercing blue eyes, camera-ready for an underwear commercial.  His older cousin was a friend of mine and owned a club on the Lower East Side.  I was keeping my seduction of his nephew on the downlow, since I figured the “relationship” would be short-lived and I didn’t want the aforementioned seduction to jeopardize all the free drinks I got at the aforementioned club.   Ari’s apartment was on my way home from the office, so I dropped by for a booty call after work, having wriggled into my sexy panties in the office restroom.

We didn’t waste any time.   Ari was sprawled on the leather sofa with me on top, dry-humping away, when I noticed that my clit wasn’t the only thing feeling swollen and tingly.  I tried to ignore it, but my sinuses were itching like mad, and juicing up even faster than my ladyparts.  I mumbled something about needing to blow my nose – which was an understatement, as the snot was practically exploding from my head at this point – and ran into the bathroom.  I didn’t even turn the lights on, just dove for the roll of toilet paper.  And then…a scratching sound and the faint glow of two green eyes from the depths of the litterbox next to the shower.

Well, that explained the snot rockets.  Teh kittehs, deh givz me deh allergeez.

In retrospect, I probably should have given up, gone home, and gotten off on my own.  But it had been a few months since I’d gotten any, and the dry-humping had led me to believe Ari was packing something worthwhile in his CK boxer briefs.  So I gave my nose a final blow, went back into the living room, ignored his quizzical stare from the couch, and popped some Benadryl from my purse (yes, I always carry it, and you should too if you have any kind of allergies).

The dry-humping resumed, followed by the undressing, the fingering, and the 69ing.  The Benadryl, thank God, was taking effect, and my sinuses dried up enough that I could breathe through my nose while I went down on him.

What they don’t tell you on the package, ladies, is that Benadryl, like all antihistamines, gets rid of your runny nose by drying out your mucous membranes.  And yes, your vagina is basically one big mucous membrane.  While my nose wasn’t running anymore, neither was my vadge.  So when Ari finally stuck it to me, I was so dry that his dick skidded to a halt about two inches in.  The combination of condom and parched membranes was excruciating.  I almost expected his cock to make the squeaky sound you get when you rub a balloon against your palm.

I thought wistfully about the bottle of lube in my nighttable.  Not doing me much good sitting in my bedroom at home, was it?  I hadn’t even considered that I would need it, given the extreme hotness of the dude and the extreme horniness of me.  Ari didn’t have any lube handy, unfortunately, and further licking didn’t get my inner parts any wetter.  After a few minutes of trying, his boner was dead and he was getting testy, so we gave up and I left him and his blue balls on the living room sofa.

I refrained from kicking the cat on my way out the door.  Ari moved back to Israel the following month and we never did consummate our lust.  Damn allergies!

Can you top BeckySharper’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.