There is no other topic that evokes such a distinctive physical and emotional reaction from men than that of genitalia trauma. If you don’t believe me, show any man a video of a dad getting hit in the dick by his son’s wiffle ball bat, or a skateboarder crushing his jewels on a railing. I’ll be damned if some of you aren’t squirming in your seats now to reaffirm the safety of your jewels.
It was around February of my freshman year. Our freshman dorm was located one block from a 7/11 and about a mile from our party house. The 7/11 was our go-to spot to pick up a case or two in short notice and was often staffed by a good dude named Joe, and this upperclassman named Alexis. Alexis was this Filipino gymnast chick who had the ass of an angel and was wise to the fact that my friends and I were using fakes to buy this alcohol. She frequented our parties early on and somehow we began to have sex on a semi regular basis.
She had her own place about five minutes from our house. So as snow began to fall on that fateful February Saturday, I made the call to see if she was up. As I stumble my way through that godforsaken weather, I begin to realize how truly fucked up I am and how it would take a miracle (or a few boner pills) to get my dick to perform. With an elevated BAC and no boner pills to be found, I promptly passed out in her bed.
The next morning I was brought to my senses by a hand on my dick — time to pay my rent for a night’s stay. About 15 minutes into this session I’m ready to go back to my dorm room and rehydrate and pass out again. I am tired, dehydrated, hungover, hungry, and really not into this whatsoever. Sure I could have faked an orgasm, ran to the bathroom and dashed, but mama didn’t raise no quitter. So I switch up to doggy, the end all be all of positions in my humble opinion. Being an ass man, this provided optimal visual stimulation and hopefully a fast track to finishing. I was sadly mistaken.
As I drive home these manly inches of thunder I lose my focus to a roommate walking upstairs. In this split second of mental lapse I pull back too far, and she leans forward a bit too much. These events independent of each other would cause no harm, but when synchronized, the end result was me inadvertently pulling out.
I lose contact. Without noticing this and going full stroke speed, I thrust forward expecting to find the warm confines of a vagina. I did not. What I struck with all 190 pounds of bodily force was what I affectionately refer to as “the gooch.” To some, it’s the taint. To the medical community, it is the perineum. To me, it’s the bane of my existence.
I struck this no man’s land of feminine anatomy and all that force was transferred halfway down the shaft of my penis, resulting in the most deafening *crack* I have ever heard.
Nothing in my life had prepared me to see my erect dick make a right angle. I yell “JESUS FUCK!” as she flips some hair back, looks back at me and asks, “What the hell was that?” To which I eloquently respond, “I BROKE MY DICK.” I have never lost an erection so quick in my life, and as I begin to dress myself in my shell shocked state, I am absolutely inconsolable.
I begin the long walk back to my dorm through the foot of fresh snow. I had a broken dick, blue balls, and a hangover. I had no doubt seen better days..
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