I’m Sorry Your Dick Game Is Whack: A Vagina Monologue

Written by Miss Kay

You are probably wondering why I ghosted. Well, you had it coming. I did not know how to say this without hurting your feelings. But, here is why I left.

When we linked up on the socials, you knew exactly what to say about anything and how to say it. I always looked forward to hearing your views on whatever topic that was trending at any moment. Nothing beats a man who knows things. You had strong and objective views on womanhood and feminism; very sensitive topics that always cause chaos online. A fairly knowledgeable man who is able to hold an adult conversation in an intelligent and objective manner – such a turn on.

I have a weakness for strong-willed people who know what they are talking about and stand by their perspectives without folding in an argument. Our conversations were long, fun, funny and very engaging. Nothing could go sideways in our conversations. We could flow seamlessly from one topic to the other and we mostly had pretty much the same perspective on things. We agreed on a lot of views. Well, since you knew the right words to say. 

We scheduled an appointment and I made sure to go all out with the looks. Matching underwear, and picked out an outfit that fit right in with the colour of my eyes. I finished the look with some bomb makeup. I made sure to impress. I was taught how to make first impressions really impressive and how to make them last. Every occasion is always an opportunity to play dress up and go out.

You made sure to impress by your side as well. Your manners were impeccable; attractive if I must say. Your online personality actually matched with the person who was in front of me. We talked for hours in that restaurant and we had so much fun. One late afternoon meal turned into a cozy evening by the bar, tipsy and flirtatious, warm and hearty. I was completely at home and comfortable. Like every other good thing, our evening came to an end and you escorted me to my taxi, said goodbye with a light brush on my cheek. I wanted more, but I let you take the lead. The slower the better. 

Now, see where the danger is? You invited me to your place. Promised to prepare a wholesome meal for us. Tempting, very tempting. So we started talking about our expectations on the next visit. Netflix perhaps, or a good listening session to Beyonces’s new album. None of that happened anyway but here we go…

The day came and I made sure to surpass my previous efforts on looks. I made proper use of my very expensive perfume – the one I rarely use, save for special occasions. Today was a special occasion after all. I got to your flat. The place looked more than just cozy. You really made an effort to please me. Stepping onto your doorstep, a new wave of feeling caught up with me. You felt it too. Nothing else mattered, nothing made sense. We fell right into it.

Now, you had promised me fireworks at some point. You made sure I knew exactly how big your dick was. You flatly said you know how to lay the pipe the right way. My mind went exactly there. Clearly you had the same feeling, or thoughts. I could see it in your deep dark eyes. Your stare was intense and beckoning. I fell right into your embrace and my weakness overcame me. I wanted to see it all. I wanted to feel everything you said you would make me feel. I was consumed by lust and how disappointing life can be if we do not keep our expectations in check.

Now we get to the part of why I ghosted. We kissed. I thought maybe it was a case of first time jitters. I tried again but still, no. You were sloppy and left your saliva all over. I shall not speak of how you shoved your tongue all the way. I thought you knew how to do all these things, like how you boasted. They say our bodies speak, and you can hear them if you pay attention and listen. Whenever that notion was being brought forward, I do not know what your understanding was because you did not display any signs of attention. You hardly paid attention even to my own gesture. You were all in and probably turned off your senses.

Do not get me started on the foreplay. For a person who knew what to say, when it came to knowing what to do, you lost me. I understand there are first time jitters, right? But this, I had hoped we were over. At least I was. One thing I hate in my intimate moments is anything that suggests violence. You seemed to like slapping a lot. Indeed it was playful and it may be what you like to do. People have their own fetishes and that one is not mine. I was willing to overlook that until it kept going on and on and worse by the moment. I expressed my displeasure in it, and you did not listen. {red flag flapped even louder and harder. I saw it!}

Now, to the part where you had to lay the pipe. I was looking forward to this one, despite the prior disappointment. I was counting on you making up for the misadventure you just displayed. Indeed the pipe was just as you promised. It served looks and was very yummy to the eye. It screamed drop your panties down low! However, you and your pipe could not wait for me to actually invite you in. I thought well, maybe that is your way of doing things. The experience, was an anticlimax. Everything dropped from my expectations. Perhaps I disappointed myself by expecting too much, but that cannot be my entire fault. 

I was left with nothing more than just a bruised vagina and an edge. You said you would make me squirt and cry. I did cry, from dissatisfaction and disappointment. I came to your place hoping for multiple orgasms, expecting my couchie to be well catered for. And none of that happened. You did lay your pipe, yeah. But it was the wrong way. You did not take your time to listen to my body language; something that could have helped the situation. For someone who knew a lot, when it came to doing the stuff that you knew, it was all in your head. Your execution style is nothing for my liking. I wanted to get off your bed and out of your flat very quickly and disappear.

One thing I do, I run away from terrible sexual experiences. I never want to have the same experience more than once. Twice is always a mistake when things go bad the first time. When I got home, I told myself never again. I completely ticked your name off any adventure I wished to explore in this lifetime. If it was going to be with any man, it was definitely not going to be with you.

My apologies for not telling you this sooner; I didn’t know how. I would rather ghost than be the reason you hurt the next band of women you meet because I told you your dick is big, but the game is just whack.