The worst sex of my life chronicles: #1: Ratgirl.

I was having a chat a few weeks back with my girl @nottjustsex about sexual escapades of the worst kind. Everyone has a story of some sex that is so bad that in retrospect it actually becomes quite funny. Cringeworthy, but funny. So I thought I’d tell you about one such story from my past.

It was 2006, I was a student, the city was Bristol, I was recently single and out with the boys. Pre drinking, big rave, everyone was mashed and having a good time at the Bristol Academy. I was on the dance floor with my boys when I saw this blonde girl that I used to work with at a cinema. We didn’t know each other that well as she’d stopped working there a few weeks after I started, but I knew her well enough to say hi. I started chatting with her on the dance floor and pretty soon we were doing that grinding and kissing that feels really sexy in your mind but is actually really not. Like really really not. Now, one of my boys was cracking on with her friend, who in fairness did have a massive rack, and I could tell he was already thinking about the after club antics.

When the night ended, we were all outside at the taxi rank. Kebab and chips in hand, the picture of elegance and class. The rest of my crew had got in taxi’s leaving just me, blondie, my boy and the girl with the rack. Now my boy was making it clear to me that he wanted to go back with them.

‘She won’t go back unless we both do. C’mon man, I’m pulling the friend card.’

He pulled it because he knew I wasn’t feeling it. I just wanted to go home, but blondie was up for it, so we ended up going back to their flat. When we got there, my boy and the rack went up stairs straight away, whilst me and blondie were sat downstairs having that awkward pre-bang chat that lets you know the sex is gonna be dry as dirt. We eventually made our way upstairs and started kissing on her bed and getting down to it. I quickly established however that this was not going to be one of those awesome one night bangs that lives long in the memory. Well awesome it may not have been, but live long in the memory it has, because the chain of events that followed have made it impossible to forget.

So firstly, she was one of these girls who was just useless in bed. She didn’t use her hands at all, she just laid there whilst we kissed as I did all the foreplay. Awful, simply awful. Eventually I kind of manhandled her to get her on top of me and after somehow restraining myself from pushing her head down for what seemed like an eternity, she eventually gave me what I can honestly say was the most anti-climactic blowjob of my life. I mean it was nothing to shout about anyway, but I swear it literally lasted about 8 seconds. I thought she was teasing me at first, but no, that really was all that I was getting.

By this point I accepted that this was just going to be one of those nights, so I thought I might as well just get it all over with. I started fucking her, just missionary because it just seemed to fit with how shockingly bad this whole ordeal had been, and she was basically lying there like a dead fish making some weird noises that I assume were pleasure but I can’t say I’m 100% sure. Her hands were wrapped around my neck in some kind of weird cuddle. Legit, I was struggling to even get close to blowing my load, which is a sure sign I’m not feeling it. But we’ve all had some bad sex right? What’s the big deal?

And that is when shit. Got. Really. Really. Weird.

As I’m fucking her and trying to think of anything to excite myself, I hear some high pitch noises in the room. Not loud, but enough to grab my attention. I tried to look around but couldn’t see anything, partly because the room was so dark, and partly because I had been so bored I had been staring at her alarm clock which, being quite bright compared to the room had meant I couldn’t see shit when looking around except for the figment of the electronic numbers in my minds eye. As I continued to rag on her, I was still hearing these noises, so I grab my boxers and cover the alarm clock numbers. As my sight adjust, I begin to make out what looks like some cages on the opposite side of the room. I assumed they must have been hamsters or some shit like that. Blondie obviously noticed that I was a bit distracted, and showing signs of engagement for the first time says;

‘What are you looking at?’

to which I reply;

‘I was just trying to see what was making the noises.’

And then she said it. The words that still make me shake my head.

‘Oh, those are just my rats.’

Oh. Those. Are. Just. My. Rats. All willie nillie like that’s a usual thing. Once she had said that, my eyes began to focus and it started to become clear. And there they were. These horrible, black rats, just staring at me. I mean, who has rats?!?! I felt my dick be like Uh uh baby, I’m outta here. I had to struggle to not go limp instantly and then I did what I had never ever done before. I faked it. I faked it good and proper. And then I got dressed at the speed of light and left quicker than Chris Brown at a feminist rally. I went to the next room and banged on the door like my boy owed me rent. When he eventually answered he hit me with the infamous line;

‘She wants us to stay for breakfast.’

Breakfast? I don’t think you’re getting how this works, I’m thinking to myself. Who stays for breakfast?! This wasn’t  some magical night that we’d always remember as being the night we shared something special…rats…I mean…rats!


All I wanted was to forget the whole thing, which of course my boys loved, and consequently ridiculed me mercilessly. And so, in the lore of our friendship group, she would forever become known as ‘rat girl’ and I, still to this day am never allowed to forget it.

Check out #2 in the series HERE.