Female • 21 years old • Syracuse, NY
Three years before I lost my virginity, one of my friends in college — we'll call him Smith — told me this interesting story about his friend with one ball. One testicle. He said, "Don't tell him I told you." I gave him one of my stink-eye looks and said, "Like I'd ever meet this guy."
Years passed and I was still a virgin in college. My values had changed; at this point I was basically ready to throw my virginity away. But I was still reserved and serious at the time, I could never just "give it" — someone first had to make the attempt to take it.
Finally, at age twenty-one, when visiting a group of friends in Binghamton, NY, I set my sights on a six-foot-five-inch ogre. I figured the taller and more oaf-like the guy, the bigger his dick probably was. By the end of the night, couples were in each of the bedrooms while five of us remained in the living room: me and the ogre on an air mattress behind the couch, two other friends on the couch bed, and Smith passed out on the other couch.
 Illustration by Thomas Pitilli |
I lost my virginity in that room, with three other people who thankfully were too drunk or busy with their own interludes to notice. We had sex three times and I woke up with his, for lack of a better word, "love juice" all over me. I didn't know any better — should've wiped it off, or even better, used a condom. The memory is totally disgusting, but I had fun, and as a trophy, by far the weirdest first-time story among my friends.
One month later I was at Smith's house. We were getting ready to play beer pong, and the ogre was there. Smith announced (in innocence!) that he only had one ball to play with. In response, I screamed, "ONE BALL?! WHAT ARE YOU, SOME KIND OF DEFICIENT?!" Most of the people in the room laughed, but some had an interesting mortified look on their faces.
Smith and I started walking down the back stair and he said, "That was fucked up, but hilarious." I asked what he meant by that. He said, "You hooked up with Ogre, and clearly you were talking about him."
I gasped. It finally clicked in my mind.
I hadn't seen or felt his balls during our drunken interlude. It was dark… and I had no interest in touching his balls. Everyone knew we had hooked up. They all assumed I'd just called him a one-balled deficient. He was the one-ball my friend had told me about three years earlier. Poor Ogre — but to his credit, at least I was right about his dick.