Posted on August 20, 2012


In the beginning, we worked well together… it didn’t last.

This story is from Christina, a 25-year-old dance teacher in Boston, as told to Raz:

I met Nus at a speed dating event. He seemed charming, funny and confident—everything I don’t usually see in a man.

We were on a second date, and he suggested karaoke. We both got a little drunk, and belted out some Alanis and Jay-Z.  It was a good time—and he was a really good kisser—so I was excited when he wanted to take me home.

As soon as we got to his apartment, Nus stripped me and threw me on his bed. It took all of thirty seconds from keys in the door to getting me completely naked, and it was not hot—it was actually kind of desperate and gross.  Without any foreplay (or even kissing), he started trying to have sex with me from behind. But he couldn’t get hard, so I just sort of sat there awkwardly, while he drunkenly tried to get it up himself.  (Keep in mind that I hadn’t been in his apartment for more than two minutes at this point.)  Nus tried to enter me once more, but was still pathetically flaccid.  He gave up and said, “Oh well, we’ll try again in the morning.”  “Um, no. Sorry,” I said. “I need to get home.”

I left his apartment promptly and tried to process whatever had just happened. I don’t think I was even in there for more than five minutes!

The next evening, he texted me: “Get through the day OK?  I woke up so late. LOL… Oh ya and next time shave it all off, baby’s bottom style, kool? Next week it’s on me. Prob Tuesday ;-)”

I told him to never contact me again, and I changed his name in my phone to Anus.

Posted in: Your Stories