My second serious boyfriend, Evan, was 6’2”, had blond hair, piecing blue eyes, and perfect bone structure. He reminded me of a tall Matt Damon, but more importantly he was a Jew. After years of Catholic school, dating a Jew just felt right. Finding an Arian Jew, was the icing on the cake.
I moved to New York City to attend college. I met Evan two months after I moved there, while out at a club with my roommates. Evan was two years older than me, working at the New York Stock Exchange and had just moved to the city as well. He had his own place in the East Village and he seemed to be the perfect candidate to replace Jorge. He had everything Jorge didn’t: a job, height, and a cocky confidence that completely turned me on.
When I first visited Evan’s apartment I was sure he was going to rape me. As I walked through the door, I quickly realized he had no furniture other than a bed. It looked like he had been robbed. He didn’t even have a TV! And he didn’t have a view either. All you could see through the thick metal bars that covered his windows was brick from the building next to his. I was immediately alarmed. This was definitely a fire hazard, but more importantly, if there was an ideal setting for rape and murder his apartment was it. If he didn’t watch TV, I had to wonder what he did with his free time.
Evan explained, he hadn’t gotten around to buying a TV because he would normally hang out at a friend’s apartment after work. I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easy. I stilled played it safe. For the next few visits, I demanded I keep my shoes on and always kept my purse at arm’s length, just in case I needed to make a quick getaway. My mother had scared me enough to know there’s a rapist lucking around every corner and I was worried Evan was one of them.
It didn’t take long for Evan to gain my trust. I eventually realized Evan was cheap and lazy, not a rapist. Despite that, I couldn’t help but fall head over heels. Evan was the first guy who literally made my knees weak. I found myself at Evan’s empty apartment almost every night of the week.
Except for being a cheap and lazy pothead, Evan was nothing like Jorge. He tried everything under the sun to get into my pants. After over a month of heavy petting and a lot of coercing I decided to give Evan my number 2 spot. Evan seemed perfect on paper. He thought I was hilarious, had the biggest cock I had ever seen, and most importantly his own place. It may have been a crack den, but I really wanted to move out of the dorms.
Once we finally had sex, we didn’t do much else. A week later Evan came down with Strep Throat and I followed a few days after. It was the first of the many viral gifts Evan would give me. We spent that weekend in bed on antibiotics.
The topic of anal sex will always find its way into a relationship. Normally it’s later in a relationship, but I have the mouth of a sailor and Evan is a complete pervert. Early on, I made the mistake of telling Evan I enjoyed anal sex. Once the words came out of my mouth, it was obvious that was the only thought on Evan’s mind. You would have thought I was walking around with a giant asshole on my forehead.
Jorge and I actually had anal sex a lot towards the end of our relationship. At that time, I was willing to do anything to spice up our sex life. Jorge wasn’t too crazy about it, but I actually enjoyed it. Jorge’s cock was large, but it was straight as an arrow. I realized later this is the key to anal sex: a pin straight dick.
I wasn’t so lucky with Evan. His penis had a very distinct curve. The first time I saw it, the first words out of my mouth were, “Oh my God!” Evan looked at me as if to say, “Yeah, I know it’s huge.” His beaming look of pride quickly faded as I finished my thought blurting out, “it’s crooked!” There is clearly no filter between my brain and my mouth.
Evan was relentless, constantly pleading, “let me just put it in for a second” or “I’ll let you remove that black head on my back if you let me put it in your ass.” That weekend he had me cornered and I was too ill to put up a good fight. Even though, I was worried it was too soon for anal, I was never good at saying no to Evan and finally gave in. Plus, I had been eyeing that black head on his back for over a week and it was driving me crazy!
Anal sex with Evan was nothing like I had remembered. It felt like someone was sticking a porcupine up my ass. I didn’t want to tell him I was in more pain than a woman giving birth naturally, in fear he would think I was just lying about enjoying anal to impress him. In all honesty, I did initially say it to impress him, but I wasn’t lying.
I couldn’t figure out why it hurt so much. When other girls would tell me they hated anal because it was so painful, I thought they were just big babies. I suddenly had a lot of sympathy for them. I thought maybe it was because I was more relaxed with Jorge or because Evan’s penis was a little bigger. I eventually realized his crocked cook was the culprit. No one ever gets lucky enough to find a Jew cock that big without it having some kind of flaw.
For the next 15 minutes, I closed my eyes, bit my lip, and took it like a Catholic altar boy. I couldn’t have been happier when it was finally over. I swore I would never do it again, but later changed my mind. I found that anal sex was a great bargaining chip and used it whenever I really wanted Evan to do something. Since Evan’s idea of a good time was getting stoned, getting him to do anything else was like pulling teeth. I found spending my Saturday getting high and playing video games was much more painful than 15 minutes of anal.
After he finished, Evan got up to get a glass of water. I laid there still unable to move from the pain. As Evan offered me some water, I reluctantly rolled over and slowly sat up. While I took a sip, something caught my eye. I peered over to where I had been laying. What I saw next I would never wish on my worst enemy. Trickled across the bed were small puddles of watery diarrhea, leading straight to the culprit: my ass. I quickly looked at my ass and found a little still dribbling out. I looked up at Evan horrified and shocked and he looked back at me even more horrified and shocked.
“Is my asshole leaking?” I asked in disbelief.
“It looks that way.” Evan said disgusted.
I couldn’t believe my luck! I thought nothing could be worse than peeing on Jorge’s bed, but shitting on Evan’s definitely took the cake. It was apparent I had to use a guy’s bed as a toilet before he could be my boyfriend. That is was when I decided to marry Evan. I didn’t want to find out what could possibly end up on my next boyfriends bed.
I ran to the bathroom to clean my ass as Evan began to strip his bed. I just wanted to die!
“I’m so sorry, Evan!” I yelled, as I awkwardly squatted in his bath tub, propping my butt under the facet. “I swear that’s never happened to me before.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen that happen before either.” He yelled back.
I reluctantly walked out of the bathroom and found Evan sitting on his bed, with a garbage bag filled with his sheets, at his feet. It couldn’t get any worse than this.
“I’ll wash those for you.”
“Don’t worry about it…… I just can’t figure out how this could have happened.” He said calmly.
Evan was taking this way better than Jorge. Before I could respond, Evan jumped up and yelled, “Oh my God, I know why!” I looked on with the sheer hope he could possibly explain my leaky pipe. Evan walked over to his dresser and grabbed my bottle of Amoxicillin.
“That’s why!” He said, holding the bottle in triumph.
I didn’t get it, but decided to take any excuse he was offering. I had learned my lesson from the last time I went to the bathroom on someone’s bed.
“Sarah, antibiotics can cause diarrhea and anal leakage.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him, but it did make the most sense.
“I’ll call Leila and ask her.” He said.
Leila, is Evan sister’s best friend. She is also a doctor and had also slept with Evan years earlier. I didn’t think it was possible the situation could get any worse, but I didn’t count on him calling a past lover to get their medical opinion.
“Please, don’t call her. I don’t want her to know.” I desperately pleaded.
“Babe, she’s a doctor. I’m sure she’s heard much worse.”
Detective Evan was on a mission and nothing I said was going to stop him. He grabbed his cell phone while I grabbed a pillow and proceeded to suffocate myself. Unfortunately, I remained conscious and could hear the whole conversation.
“Hey Lee, It’s Evan. I’m good. Yeah, it does feel like it’s been a long time. I’m actually calling to ask you a medical question. No, no I’m fine. This might sound a little weird but, if a girl was on Amoxicillin and had anal sex could it cause anal leakage?” There was a long pause. I held my breath as I waited for his response.
“That’s what I thought.” He said relieved as I gasped for air and removed the pillow smothering my face. “Yeah, that’s definitely a relief. No, I’ve been dating her for a while. Sarah. You’ll probably meet her eventually, as long as she doesn’t shit on my bed again.” He said Laughing.
The hits just kept on coming! I grabbed the pillow and began to suffocate myself again, this time with even more determination.
“Sarah, I’m sorry. Don’t be embarrassed.” He said patting the pillow over my head. It might have been a bit more convincing if he wasn’t laughing hysterically while he said it. “Okay Leila, I’ll let you go. Thanks so much for the info. Okay, I’ll tell her. You too. Bye.”
The conversation from hell was finally over. Evan struggled to get the pillow away from my face and eventually managed to pry it out of my hands.
“Leila said she won’t tell anyone and she can’t wait to meet you.”
“Well, that makes me feel better.” I said sarcastically.
“Babe, I don’t know why you’re so upset. I’m the one with shit all over my sheets.”
It was just like Evan to play the victim, no matter the situation. We slept with no sheets that night and Evan didn’t bring up having anal again…. until I finished my antibiotics.
I called Carrie the next day and told her what happened. I knew she was the only person who could truly appreciate the sheer irony of the situation. She was laughing so hard, I thought she might actually pee herself this time. Carrie finally gained her composure and said, “Sarah, I am seriously beginning to think it’s not the weed or the antibiotics; it’s you. I’ve never heard of these things happening to anyone else.” She did have a pretty valid point. “It’s one thing that you have managed to pee and now crap on two different men, but how both of them continued to date you and allow you anywhere near their bed I’ll never know.”
I like to focus on the fact I haven’t used anyone’s bed as a toilet since. I’ve learned many important lessons in my life, but the most important one so far is: don’t ever have anal sex when you’re on antibiotics, especially amoxicillin.
