The disappearing condom

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

My first online date with a stranger happened in the computer lab at my school. Back when OICQ was popular, my friend list was often full of strangers because we could add people on QQ without verification. I randomly opened a woman's profile picture and sent a video request. A few seconds later, a woman's profile picture appeared on the other end. She was incredibly beautiful, so beautiful that my heart raced and I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles. I longed to fly to her side and spend the night with her. What I didn't expect was that after only chatting for an afternoon, she invited me to her house. If this happened today, I would definitely assume she was a sex worker, but back then in Beijing, the sex industry hadn't yet taken off. Brothels were still in school, and high-class establishments like "Heaven on Earth" had only recently opened. Undergraduates were only catering to officers of military rank and above. Na?ve as I was, I resolutely embarked on my first journey of seeking pleasure.

This woman lived in an old Beijing tenement building. It took me ages to find her address. After knocking for a long time, she finally opened the door for me. I went inside, cautiously surveying my surroundings, ready to dart away at any moment. She was very beautiful, somewhat resembling Cecilia Cheung. My heart raced, and I was at a loss for what to do. She smiled at me gently, like an older sister who could see right through a young boy, making my hair stand on end. I sat stiffly on the living room sofa, like a bewildered customer waiting for the police to arrive. After a moment, she broke the silence, saying, "You look quite young. I heard you're in a band." I said, "Just messing around, but we're going to be participating in a music festival at a university in Beijing soon. You can come and listen." She said, "Forget it, I don't have that kind of free time. I'm not as free as you college students." I said, "Then I'll give you a CD of our band's recording as a gift." She said, "Okay, tomorrow is my birthday too, consider it a birthday present."

We listened to the CD and chatted. Whenever we heard a new song, she would express surprise and applause. She said my songs were very good, and I proudly said that I was signed to a record company and many singers had sung my songs. She said she'd met a real gem today, and there was beer in the fridge, so let's have a good drink. I was confident I could handle a woman's alcohol tolerance, so I readily joined her. After a few beers, she started rambling incoherently, quite tipsy. I knew this was her way of giving me an opportunity. So I carried her to the bedroom and kissed her. Her breath reeked of cigarettes, and she was smoking the same Camel brand my dorm buddy smoked. It was my first time kissing someone with that kind of mouth; closing my eyes, it felt like kissing my dorm buddy. So I quickly opened my eyes, using the beautiful sight to mask my nausea. Just as

I was about to penetrate her, she suddenly pushed me away, stood up, and said, "Wait, I'll go get one." I was a little stunned: since Chenchen and I had never used it before, this was completely foreign to me. The reason I'd never gotten Chenchen pregnant was because I always timed my withdrawal almost perfectly, earning me the nickname "Withdrawal Prince" from my girlfriend. Of course, I'm not so ignorant as to have never seen a condom before, but I instinctively felt a sense of aversion the moment I saw this deflated balloon made of rubber. This preconceived notion has made it almost impossible for me to perform normally when wearing a condom, perhaps a sad consequence of being spoiled in bed by my girlfriend.

I reluctantly agreed to her request, but the moment I tore open the packaging and held the condom in my hand, I was immediately dumbfounded: I didn't know which side to roll it up from, or which end to slip it on. For the rest of my life, this dilemma about which end to slip on the condom has haunted me, to the point that I immediately feel a pang of anxiety whenever I think about it. Seeing my confusion, this woman carefully helped me tear open the packaging, took it out, and cautiously aligned the correct end with my penis. As soon as it was on, I felt myself go 50%, but because I was already quite erect, there wasn't a noticeable change on the surface. She opened her legs, gesturing for me to enter quickly. The rest went smoothly; after a while, she seemed quite satisfied. However, something unexpected happened afterward: when I pulled out my penis, I looked down and realized the condom was gone.

At first, I tried to hide my embarrassment, but she quickly noticed and ordered me to find the "missing condom" immediately. I scratched my head, anxious and worried about her scolding me further, but to no avail. I searched the entire bed, but there wasn't a trace of the condom. Just as I was thinking about how to apologize, she suddenly said, "Wait," then half-squatted down, dug her fingers into her vagina, searched for a while, and finally pulled out the condom. It turned out that when she handed me the condom, I had accidentally put it on backwards, and due to the vigorous thrusting, the condom had remained inside her.

This incident created an awkward atmosphere throughout our time together. I even felt I could no longer face her beautiful face. So, after a difficult, sexless night, I fled her house the next morning. I still vividly remember the scenery along the bus route after I left her house that day. Back then, Beijing buses were still those old-fashioned, long, hinged models. I sat by the window, gazing at the misty morning light over Dashilan, Qianmen, and Deshengmen, and felt as if I had stepped out of another world.

[The End]

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The disappearing condom

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