There are moments in life when you know you’re making a bad decision but you do it anyway. Take the other night, for example. Completely aware of the inevitable regret that would follow, I fucked a 6ft 3 guy in a bunk bed. Don’t get me wrong; bunk beds are great for building forts and kicking your brother between the slats while he’s trying to sleep, but when you’re 22, they’re pretty much up there on the turnoffs list with AIDS and leprosy.
Just so you know, I’m not one of those weird adult babies you see on the internet. When I arrived in Toronto, I took the first clean room I found that was downtown and within budget. The room happened to come with bunk beds. Not ideal, but whatever. I just swore to myself I’d never bring anyone back home and nobody would ever know. This is all very well until the guy you want to sex lives on the other side of town and it’s 3am and you’re both drunk and horny. This is how it went down.
After stumbling through the door, the lights went off, the nakedness began. Both of us smacked our heads at the same time while climbing into the bed. This was the most romantic part of the whole ordeal. First time sex is awkward enough without a being cramped into a wooden pen, so needless to say; Worst. Sex. Ever.
To start with, the foreplay was non-existent. I don’t know if this was because of the bunk beds or whether he was just a bad lay. But for the sake of the story, his brief attempt at going down on me rendered him in a hunched squatting position due to the wall at the back of the bed. This was super unattractive and I think he noticed the look of disgust on my face which may have put him off. I didn’t bother with anything fancy aka giving head, I figured if he was going to be selfish then I could be too. Also by this stage I was already over it, but it was too late to turn back.
So the intercourse began with a rough start (excuse the pun) and he seemed to keep grabbing onto the wall alongside the bed for support. I figured this was to keep him from smacking his head against the wall at the head of the bed, but his arm must have gotten tired and once he let it down the bunk beds literally moved with us as we fucked. The creaking of the wood was so bad I was pretty sure the bunk beds were going to collapse. It also wasn’t ideal as my landlord’s room is on the other side of the wall, and I could hear the Chinese soap opera playing on his laptop. So I’m pretty sure he could hear us. After considering the thought of my landlord getting off on listening or potential death by bunk bed I suggested we try a different position. I really just wanted him to hurry up and come so we could get the whole thing over with.
With this in mind I climbed out of the bunk bed and pushed him behind me. Grabbing hold of the top bunk frame, I realised what a bad idea it was to try have standing doggy style sex with a guy who’s almost twice your height. For it to work mechanically (let alone enjoyably) I had to be on tip-toes. I said “OW” out loud more than once during the first 30 seconds. This was a pretty good indicator that it wasn’t working so we stopped and crawled back into the bunk bed, naked and defeated. The dude wanted to keep going even though I was clearly passed it, so condemned to wall grabbing missionary position we fucked for a few minutes longer until he finally came in silence.
Relieved, I waited the customary 10 seconds before pushing him off me. He sat up, cleaned himself up, and then lay down again. I waited for him to get up and make some joke about actually sleeping in the bunk bed and then leave. But 10 minutes later he started snoring and I realised that wasn’t going to be happen. I spent the rest of the night jammed against the ladder staring up at my paisley print view judging myself.
Surprisingly (other than my bruised dignity) no injuries were sustained. The best thing about the whole situation is it inspired a story where I got to use the word root. I haven’t seen the guy since he left the next morning, and I can safely say he’ll be the only notch on my bunk-bed post.
DRAWING BY BEN THOMSON