It was at the Coffee Exchange where she told me the truth. We’d been dating since February 1st. Things were going great, I thought. We shared our love languages. The sex was amazing.
Now came the, “But, I need to tell you something.”
She launched into this weird biology lesson, explaining how almost all men orgasm, to push their genes into the future. They cum, all over, on everything, all the time. She described how only half of women orgasm, and of the half that do, only do because of their choice of partner. She revealed that she’d never orgasmed with me, but that she had something she’d like to try.
“Okay,” I reacted curiously, trying to digest. “So…what would you like to do?”
“Well, here’s where it gets a little tinfoil hat…let me go back. My great-great-grandfather, my mother’s grandfather’s father (is that right?) was in like a fraternity I think it was, or like a club when he was in college, or maybe right after, I don’t know, this was only what I was told.”
“All righty.”
“Anyway, they all lived in this frat house. In this safe in the basement they had all this shit their frat had collected for like, a hundred years.”
“And this has to do with our sex life how?”
“Wait, wait, it does, I promise, just let me finish.”
“Okie dokie.”
“One item in the safe, (oh my fucking God I can’t believe I am telling you this), was this, like, body part.”
“Are you like, a serial killer or something? What the fuck? A body part?”
“Yes, I mean, no, not like a fresh part. Apparently, people used to give certain body parts to the Pilgrims or some shit as like a sign of like victory in battle. A trophy of sorts. I know, I know, this is so fucked up.”
“Oh yeah, yeah, this is getting weird. Was this like a Native American, um, like, body part?”
“Okay, don’t freak out. I am just going to come out and say it, and let me explain, you promise? Swear?”
“Sure…you promise this comes back to what I am doing wrong in bed, bae, I really thought you were happy, I always thought you got off, I mean…”
“Just wait, okay, um, wait, it is Chief, fuck, I mean Sachem, Sachem, that is what they call it, like Chief, but that is what they prefer to be called. Fuck, okay. It is Sachem Wanawando’s penis. There, I said it.”
“Wackawandoo’s penis…his penis?”
“Yes, don’t get mad! The frat did not cut it off, the Pilgrims or Puritans or whatever the fuck did not chop it off, he wanted it to be preserved and to be used after he died. Sachem Wanawando had over 30 children, he was known as the most potent of all Sachems. His name was associated with fertility, in fact, lore has it, that women from all around would travel to get treatment from Sachem Wanawando.”
“Treatment?”
“Well, actually, um, here’s where it gets fucked up.”
“Here! Bae, you went to fucked-up-town about a half hour ago.”
“It wasn’t fertility, it was if you rubbed his, you know, thing, not even had sex with him, if you rubbed it, you would have orgasms like never before and if you got a splash of his cum, The Golden Nectar of the Akonaugs, you would be in a constant state of orgasm for hours on end, from just a little droplet.”
“What the hell are you talking about, magic cum, sacred semen? What exactly did they do with it? Is it still at Yale or wherever?”
“It was Princeton actually, and there still is cum, and it is not in the vault anymore. My fucking great-great-grandfather stole the fucking item when he graduated. It is in a jar in my apartment.”
“Dude no…that jar in your bathroom? I thought that was some taxidermy or some shit. What the hell, item?”
“You can look at it that way. My parents and I, all through my childhood, discussed this. It is such a clusterfuck because what are we supposed to do with it exactly? Give it back? We thought of throwing it in the ocean, but with DNA sampling and all this surveillance shit they have nowadays, we’d surely be in trouble, probably go to fucking prison! We had to just keep it and hide it. You can’t tell anybody!”
“Holy shit, I, I, guess, like, well, bae, I won’t tell. Christ, it’s just so much to wrap my head around.”
“Well, actually that’s only the half of it.”
“WHAT!?!”
“Fuck me with it.”
“Fuck you with it? You want me to fuck you with Sachem Wanawando’s dead penis, like a dildo or something? My God, you, you, you are quite full of surprises! You may actually be a total schizo!”
“But what if it’s true? What if it gives me the best, long lasting O I’ve ever had? Why won’t you just try it?”
We got back to her apartment and of course I had to confront the item. It was behind her Dr. Bronner’s, near the jasmine-scented Yankee Candle. Two White Claws and thirty minutes later we were on her bed. Low lighting. I unsealed the jar and a chlorinated smell spread into the room. She lit the Yankee Candle. Somehow, against God and all that is right, I found myself with Sachem Wanawando’s leathery cock in my hands. She laid back and spread her legs. I asked if I should, like, use lube? She silently shook her head no, and I moved closer.
She took her panties off. I placed the head of the so-called sacred item near her, you know, pussy. I noticed a bit of what looked like honey dripping from the end of the item… The Sachem moved in to perform the ceremony. To be honest, I was trembling with wrongness and panic. I was on a one-way trip, probably to prison for like necrophilia or something. It was then that she gasped deeply and arched her back.
“Oh no, oh, oh, no,” she repeated, seemingly as if working up to a state of pleasure. “Noooooo, noooooo, nooooo.”
The chant got longer and more intense. I swore I felt the phallus move on its own a little bit.
“NOOOO!”
Was this an orgasm?
It was then the lights flipped on. I first noticed that she still had her panties on.
“April Fools! Ha ha ha ha ha!”
“Whoa, what?”
“April fools, bae! Ha ha ha!”
“What the fuck?”
“I got you so bad, look at your face, ha ha ha, you totally fell for it.”
“Wait, what, April what? You lunatic. You are a fucking schizo! This is so fucked.”
I jetted into the living room and grabbed my book bag. She followed after me yelling, “Lighten up! I’m just fucking with you! It’s not real! It is just a toy!”
I ran and ran and ran. I swear on my ancestors’ graves I will never use Facebook Dating again in my fucking life!