Basement Level (Pussy)… (2-6) – Commentary

Commentary (The Receipt)

If you’re here, you’ve probably already read Basement Level (Pussy)… and thought something like:

“Okay, so his first time was a horror-comedy.”

Full Evil Dead 2 energy.

That’s not wrong.

This is one of the few pieces in Season 2 that’s mostly played for humor on the surface — but under it there’s a pretty specific reason I told this story the way I did.

Why tell this first-time story?

Most “first time” stories people are fed sound like this:

  • candles
  • soft music
  • the perfect person
  • and both bodies moving like they got the script in advance

Reality usually sounds more like:

  • weird lighting
  • a couch that smells like dust
  • nobody fully sure what feels right
  • somebody does something they saw in porn and it does not land

I wanted a first-time story that doesn’t pretend it was sacred or smooth, but also doesn’t turn it into trauma porn.

This was:

  • consensual
  • clumsy
  • sometimes gross
  • accidentally funny

and it still stuck to my ribs in the way only a first big “oh shit, sex is real now” moment can.

Part of what I’m doing in Season 2 is de-weaponizing a lot of the pressure we put on these milestones:

  • first times
  • first big risks
  • first crash
  • first heartbreak

This piece says:

“Your first time doesn’t have to be perfect, cinematic, or even particularly good for it to matter.”

It counts even if it’s awkward.

It counts even if it’s weird.

It counts even if you walked away more confused than satisfied.

Why make it funny when it could have been dark?

There’s a difference between:

  • non-consensual harm (assault, coercion, actual violation)
  • and
  • consensual stupidity (two young, overexcited people trying shit badly)

This story sits in the second category.

Nothing here is a joke about assault.

The surprise finger?

That’s not a model for how to touch someone. That’s very clearly:

“Do not do this. Ask. Use lube. Be a grownup.”

But it did happen in a context where:

  • we were there by choice
  • we were both trying to be sexual adults without knowing how
  • we were both too young and horny to have decent planning skills

The humor is aimed at:

  • me
  • the situation
  • the sheer absurdity of how badly we prepared

The joke is on the chaos and timing of it all — the way everything went sideways at once — not on people who’ve had genuinely traumatic first experiences, and not on the girl in this story.

If your “first time” was non-consensual or tied up with real abuse, this isn’t me saying:

“See? Just laugh it off.”

It’s me saying:

First times live in the body in weird ways. Here’s one that went sideways and still ended up teaching me a little about what I like, what I don’t, and what I swore I’d never allow again — until I chose it, later, on purpose.

The finger, the pee, the tacos – why keep those details?

Because that’s what first times actually look like a lot of the time:

a mix of:

  • incredibly hot
  • incredibly awkward
  • …and one or two stories you probably shouldn’t tell your friends or the internet — and definitely not in this much detail.

The finger-in-the-ass moment is the birth of a boundary:

“Back there is not public property.

If you’re going to do anything, you ask nicely and you use lube.”

The pee-play failure is a reality check:

“The body has its own rules.

You don’t get to override basic physiology with kink enthusiasm.”

The attempted analingus with… less-than-ideal hygiene is the comedy-horror part:

“Planning and hygiene matter.

‘Other entrance’ isn’t hot if no one has done the prep.”

All those details are there to do three things at once:

  1. Give you something to laugh at.
  2. Make some of you feel less alone about your own not-quite-magical firsts.
  3. Slide in the reminder that communication and planning would have made every single part of that day better.
    ⠀
    It’s not “look how stupid we were” for the sake of it.

It’s “look how close we were to something good, and how easily lack of communication can wreck it.”

Masculinity, performance, and not knowing what you’re doing

There’s also a very gendered pressure on “first times” for males:

  • you’re supposed to be ready
  • confident
  • hard on command
  • absolutely know what you’re doing

Meanwhile, inside?

You’re just as:

  • unsure
  • scared
  • overthinking
  • as the person you’re with — only you’re not really allowed to say that.

That’s why I kept lines like:

“Inside, I was still figuring out the script.

My body had already decided we were long past rehearsal.”

Because that’s what it feels like:

  • your body is sure this is the moment
  • your brain is flipping through blank pages
  • you’re trying not to look like a complete idiot while being the most naked you’ve ever been in front of another person

This piece is me admitting:

“I didn’t come into this world fully formed as The Confident Dom™.

I had a basement, a couch, and only some idea what I was doing.”

It’s important you see that too — not just the polished version of me that shows up later in the heavier posts.

Why end on communication instead of “lol, never again”?

That final stretch:

“First times don’t certify you; they just introduce you, sometimes awkwardly, to yourself.

…The sex gets better.

The communication decides whether you do.”

is the only “lesson” I really care about in this one.

Not:

  • “be ashamed”
  • “save it for marriage”
  • “never make mistakes”

Just:

  • you’re allowed a messy first time
  • your worth doesn’t hang on how perfect it was
  • what actually separates a good sexual life from a painful one isn’t how your first time went — it’s how you communicate from then on

You can absolutely have:

  • a sloppy first experience
  • a traumatizing first experience
  • a deeply mediocre first experience

and still grow into someone with:

  • incredible sex
  • great dynamics
  • strong boundaries

First times don’t crown you.

They just open the door.

Big picture?

This commentary exists so if you walked away from the main piece thinking:

“My first time was weird as hell; maybe I’m just broken,”

you have something else to hold:

“No. A lot of us had basement-level first times.

The sex gets better.

The communication decides whether you do.”

On the companion track: “Pussy” – Rammstein?

On the surface, “Pussy” by Rammstein is ridiculous:

  • over-the-top
  • crass
  • deliberately offensive
  • campy sex anthem energy

Underneath, it’s exactly the energy of this story:

  • trying too hard
  • loud
  • chaotic
  • absolutely not subtle

It’s the opposite of a tasteful, soft-focus first-time soundtrack.

Which is the point.

This piece isn’t about:

  • purity
  • romance
  • the perfect first lover

It’s about:

  • hormones
  • bad timing
  • bodies doing too much
  • anxiety
  • comedy
  • and the kind of night you don’t want to repeat, but you also never fully forget

“Pussy” is the sonic version of that basement:

too much, too loud, kind of a mess, and still undeniably alive.

That’s why it sits under this one.

Cycle II – Coming of Age · 06 · Commentary (v1.00)

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