The Day I Went Soft

I’m already worried about going flaccid randomly during sex. But on this night, I knew not to make any attempts at maintaining hardness. I had a pretty busy week of masturbation before the Saturday night of which I write. My roomies and I were having a party in our apartment and I was ready to just get wasted, have some fun, talk to guests, and pass out. I had no plans to even try to meet or satisfy any girls. But by the time the party was winding down there were only a few random stragglers left in the apartment. I was lying out in the hallway in the lap of a girl who seemed to be into me: she was saying I was cute no matter what I was saying. OK, so this didn’t happen too often so I figured I should take advantage of this little connection. We ended up in my bed making out. I was totally content with just kissing and cuddling a little bit and then passing out—in fact I don’t think it was physically possible to do anything other than that. Things were moving along just fine, I was about to pass out when suddenly my night was turned upside down.

I'm already worried about

going flaccid randomly during sex. But on this night, I knew not to make any attempts at maintaining

hardness. I had a pretty busy week

of masturbation before the Saturday night of which I write.

My roomies and I were

having a party in our apartment and I was ready to just get wasted, have some

fun, talk to guests, and pass out. I had no plans to even try to meet or satisfy any girls.

But by the time the party

was winding down there were only a few random stragglers left in the

apartment. I was lying out in the

hallway in the lap of a girl who seemed to be into me: she was saying I was cute no matter

what I was saying. OK, so this

didn't happen too often so I figured I should take advantage of this little

connection.

We ended up in my bed

making out. I was totally content

with just kissing and cuddling a little bit and then passing out—in fact I don't

think it was physically possible to do anything other than that. Things were moving along just fine, I was

about to pass out when suddenly my night was turned upside down.

She was reaching for my

pants! I froze in fear—maybe if I

didn't move, she'd stop rifling around down there and be on her way—her hand

was like a carnivorous wild boar sniffing around, snorting and fumbling around in the

brambles for its frightened prey.

Nature, Organism, Brown, Natural environment, Photograph, Terrestrial animal, Adaptation, Snout, Nature reserve, Ecoregion,

(Image credit: Archives)

The boar tore into my

pants and grabbed my penis and pulled it out. Suddenly I felt that horrible feeling I used to feel in

drama class when I'd forget my lines. My penis simply wasn't getting hard, regardless of what her hand

did. Her hand made a stroke or

movement, waited for my penis to follow the cue card, but nothing. Awkward. I was so wasted, I don't think Dr. Ruth could have gotten me

hard that night. Then my mind

kicked in: I had hurtful visual

imagery—that Dali painting...The Persistence of Time...you know, the one with

flaccidity all over the place? Flaccid, flaccid, FLACCID!

Art, Painting, Illustration, Paint, Drawing, Still life photography, Artwork, Animation, Watercolor paint, Art paint,

(Image credit: Archives)

Whiskey dick! Yes, when a guy is drunk, it's not as

easy to get hard.

I have, sadly, gotten

whiskey dick on my own—getting home late night and drunk, attempting to

masturbate, realizing I couldn't do it because I was too drunk , and then just

passing out. You know it's bad

when you are too drunk to get yourself off. But this was the first time it happened with a girl. First of all I didn't want her touching

me there. Secondly I was drunk.

Things got worse.

I prayed that she wouldn't

say anything to try to make things better but she did:

"Oh, don't worry. It's ok".

That is the WORST. This made it more awkward and made me

feel like such a loser. I really

didn't care, in the longrun, that it didn't get hard—but now I did. She condescendingly tried to say: get 'em

next time, tiger. It's just better

if the girl pretends she doesn't notice, no matter how obvious it is.

The next morning I tried

to be a gentleman and asked her if she needed help getting back to her

apartment. She chuckled: "are you

serious," she asked.

I said, "course I'm

serious. Why do you ask?"

She said: "well I live on the third floor."

OH MY GOD. I thought she looked familiar! There were three apartments in our

building. We were on the first

floor. She lived on the third

floor with FOUR other girls! My

god, I could only imagine what she was going to tell them about "the guy

downstairs who couldn't get it up". Furthermore, I'd be haunted by these girls every time I came into the

building. I'd see them downstairs

getting mail, passing one another in and out...

The worst part of it was

that they kept getting new roommates. I could only imagine how they sold the apartment: "Ok so this is the

bathroom, this is the bedroom, and oh yeah that half Asian looking guy

downstairs? He can't get hard. OK, so do you want to take the spare room then?"

So have you ever been with

a guy who doesn't get it up at some point? How do you handle it? How does he handle it? And...I have to ask—do you tell your

friends all about it? Do you find

it really awkward when a guy you're with doesn't get hard during an encounter—have

they ever been the victim of whiskey dick?