We were young and in love. He was my first everything, and I thought he was going to be my last everything. We’d proudly walk through the halls of our high school holding clammy hands. You never saw one of us without the other one. We were the couple that everyone loved and everyone envied. He would take me out to the movies and we would make out in his car in front of my house. He made me laugh and he made me feel beautiful for the first time.
One weekend, his parents went on vacation, and we had the entire house to ourselves. It felt like a practice run for when we were older. He made me dinner and I stole wine from my mom’s liquor cabinet before rushing out the door to “sleep at Lindsay’s house.” We got a little tipsy and frisky, so we decided to get it on. We had the entire place to ourselves, so we decided we should try shower sex for the first time. Neither of us had done it before, so it was just one more new experience we could share together.
We strip down, test the water, and hop in the shower. The water ran down our bodies, making us slippery and sexy. He turned me around by my hips and I put my hands up against the wall and spread my legs. This is awesome, I thought. He was clearly getting into it too, because he kept going faster and faster. He slipped out for a second and tried to put it right back in again, but he completely missed, and he full force jams his penis into the back of my leg.
I turned around to see what was going on, and my boyfriend’s face was stunned. He insists we stop because he thinks something is wrong. We dried off and went downstairs, and I got him a bag of ice. He sat on the couch, trying to breathe through the pain, but it was getting worse. He lifted up the bag to find a fat, purple, eggplant shape where his penis used to be, and he immediately started sobbing.
“I BROKE IT. I BROKE IT. IT’S BROKEN. I NEED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL.”
Now, my boyfriend was a football player, and he tried to walk it off when he snapped his ankle in a game, so I knew something was seriously wrong. The only problem was he didn’t have his insurance information. I tried to talk him into waiting a little bit to see if it would go down and avoid the entire awkward situation, but at that point he had convinced himself it needed to be amputated. I overheard him explaining to his vacationing parents why he was home alone and crying and in need of medical attention. The embarrassment was so much I nearly lost consciousness.
Once he got off the phone, and I thought the worst of it had to be over, I drove his car to the hospital and sat with him in the waiting room until he had to get called back. He was half whispering, half mumbling to the receptionist why he needed to be admitted and she was just not having it. He finally yelled in her face “I HAVE A PURPLE DICK,” which she heard loud and clear.
We get called back, and I held his penis ice (pen-ice) pack while he limped his way to the room we were supposed to be in. The nurse came into the room, and it was none other than my boyfriend’s cousin who had just started working at the hospital the week before. Fan-fucking-tastic. I couldn’t make eye contact with her. She did her best to stay professional, but I saw in her eyes that she was trying so hard not to laugh. The doctor came in after awhile, not soon enough because my boyfriend is writhing in pain at this point, and he starts examining him and asking questions about the incident. What was my favorite question? “What position were you in?”
All the blood in my body rushed to my face and my boyfriend murmured “doggy” out of the side of his mouth. What was he going to say? Is there any medical term for “doggy style”? It was completely humiliating. He gave my boyfriend pain killers and a little dick cast that he had to wear for two months. His penis healed, but the emotional scars never did. To this day, his family still refers to it as “The Eggplant Incident.” We broke up eventually, but he will forever be in my heart and his deformed dick will forever be burned into my memory..
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