After thirty-some-odd years on this planet I’ve seen a lot of bad things happen to people. I’ve seen the after affects of someone’s body consumed by fire. I’ve seen people die of various deceases. I’ve witnessed at least two people get hit by cars, I’ve seen a stabbing, I’ve seen a lot of fist fights. That’s not even getting into the consensual shit I’ve seen, which would include things like someone getting their tongue sliced open with a scalpel only to have their mouth peed into and some really atrocious things involving a fork.
My own story is hardly that dramatic, but for me, it was at least somewhat traumatic. Mostly because it happened to me and mostly because it happened to my penis.
So this was maybe seven years ago.
It was one of those ridiculously hot sticky summer days in August.
I was sort of on again off again dating this girl named Molly. She had never really met a lot of my friends so it was sort of a big deal that I was taking her to a barbecue out in Brooklyn to meet everybody. It was a long sweaty train ride there, followed by hours of milling about in the sun, awkwardly introducing her to my friends and drinking and drinking but somehow unable to get drunk.
Eventually the party dwindled and we were so sweaty and miserable that when we spotted the rare yellow cab in the middle of Brooklyn we jumped in front of it and demanded to be taken back to civilization. We fell asleep in the smelly cab with the windows open.
It was a little after midnight when we got back to my apartment and the both of us were exhausted. I watched her peel off her t-shirt and drop it on the floor, then unsnap her bra which had left delicious little red marks around her back and under her arms.
These days I tend to date women who wear skirts and dresses. I like that, it comes with a specific set of priorities. But Molly wore tight jeans, which in the summer were just cruel. Watching her grunt and groan and fall back on my bed trying to get them off was making want to fuck, even though my body just wanted sleep.
I turned the air conditioning on high. It sent out an initial blast of sick dry heat and then hummed to life, cooling my face.
I stripped too and stood in front of her as she laid on the bed, taking the bottoms of her jeans in my hands and pulling. And pulling. Finally they let her go and I slammed back against the wall holding them. We laughed, she got up and out sticky bodies met.
I wanted to fuck, we wanted to fuck, but as we looked into each other’s eyes we new the sun and the beer had sucked out our strength. We were smelly and broken.
She stumbled off to the shower and I made the bed. I went in the shower just as she was finished and for a moment her soapy hand toyed with my cock. I thought, okay, maybe I do have the strength as she smiled at me. She left me to wash up and I stood under the luke warm water and enjoyed the fuck out of it.
By the time I was done and pulled on a pair of boxers I found Molly in my bed, asleep. She was on her side with her arms around a pillow and her legs pulled up to almost her chest. She wore one of my white tank tops and a pair of pink lacy boy cut panties. Settling down on the bed my desire grumbled, but sleep won out.
Sometime in the middle of the night I stirred . The world was a blur of darkness and sheets. The smell of Molly’s freshly washed hair and the soft hum of the air conditioner. The room had become almost too cold and my skin was all goosebumps. I pulled the thin sheet over my body and looked at the clock with read 4:36am in blurry red.
Moving over to Molly, my hand landed on her hip and I felt the curve of her ass. It was so perfect it made me wince a little. Every time I touched it I felt the same pang in my chest of need.
His apartment didn’t have much, but I did invest in a big queen sized bed. I loved it. I moved over to Molly and fit myself next to her, my knee snug behind hers, my naked chest against her back, her ass soft against my boxers. The warmth of her body felt good against me in the cool of the room, I pulled the soft sheet around. My hand rest on the edge of her stomach, fingers on the waistband of panties.
She made the tiniest of noises and shifted a little. She moved back against me, her hair brushing my face and her shoulder coming within an inch of my mouth. Her ass pressed back in a slow grind.
I wondered if she was awake or just instinctually reacting. Maybe she was dreaming.
Just as I thought that she turned and kissed me, just missing my lips.
“Can you fuck me now?” she whispered in the dark.
She rolled her hips again, my hardening cock nestling itself between the cheeks of her ass. The want that was only a flicker before I went to bed had grown as I slept. I got harder as I pushed forward and slipped my arm around her, my lips brushing against her shoulder and my hand running up the smoothness of her belly and finally cupping her breast.
She growled and pushed her tit into my hand. She took my hand and tightened it around her skin.
I moved away and she whined, but then she saw I was just getting the condom. She was shaking with impatience and I realized I was too. She got on her knees, her head and shoulders down on the pillow and waited for me.
I kneeled down and licked up her thigh, but she pushed me away.
“No, just fuck me.”
With the condom on I slipped into her easily. We both gasped. I fucked her hard and she pushed back against me hard. It was this instant rhythm. She started fingering herself as I fucked her, which is always hot. I grabbed her hips and pulled her back into each thrust.
It was one of those weird moments when you don’t know where it comes from but you are high with energy. Both of us were. It turned into this super hard fucking, her slamming back at me as I slammed into her hard and faster, and totally wet.
So wet, I just slipped out, just for a second. Just as she was fingering her clit.
And in that second I thrusted forward and her fingernail and some of her actual finger went right into my penis hole. Her finger jabbed into the tiny hole I pee out of.
And then I was on the floor somehow. She, to her credit, kept fingering herself.
And to the condom maker’s credit, the condom did not break. It did, though, fill with blood.
Looking down at the condom filled with blood, which was then spilling out of the back of the condom, did the pain really hit me. The sharp sting of the tip of my penis, the most sensitive part of a penis having person’s body.
I ran to the bathroom and closed the door. I pealed the condom off and let it fall into the toilet like some kind of clipped off organ. As it fell it shot an arc of blood across the white tile floor.
I started the shower.
Now, cold water on a cut hurts when it is on your finger, it hurts more when it is on your penis.
I heard Molly knocking and I said something about falling off the bed and cutting myself. Presumably not on my penis.
I mean, in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t really that bad. The head of my penis was sore for a week or so. The morning after I debated going to a doctor, but by lunch I could tell nothing was seriously wrong.
Masturbation became a gamble though.
It healed though and my penis is fine. It was psychically traumatic though. Sometimes the memory will hit me out of nowhere, a phantom dick pain sting. It isn’t really physical, but emotional, like remembering something stupid you said in high school. It hits randomly and it hits hard.
If you enjoy this story and the over 100 other stories on this site, a tip would be much appreciated.