The most fucked up sex I ever had was with this chick from Sexaholics Anonymous
…or actually it was Sex and Love Addiction Anonymous. Originally I just wanted to have ice cream with her, but when I found out she was a sex addict, I had to see how bad her addiction truly was, so I took her on a charming date. The result was some of the most wild and fucked up sex to date.
It all started after another type of meeting, but not a SLAA (sex love addiction anonymous) meeting, a different one. I was in Los Angeles on Hollywood Blvd right by the outdoor mall. At the time, I lived down the street, a few blocks away on Sunset and La Brea. I had seen this chick around a few times but never hung out with her, and so we decided to get some ice cream. I hate ice cream, well, I used to, but then I quit smoking and now I love that shit. Anyway…
We were havin ice cream and her phone buzzes. I see the initials “SLAA” on her phone next to the name, and I know what that means. It means it’s someone she met at a SLAA meeting. Immediately I get hard. I need to fuck her. What a twisted thought, I think. Not at all. This is exciting. No, this girl is seeking help for her sex addiction apparently and all I wanna do is see her disease in full effect? Yes. Correct. So in order to make this a reality, I say to her:
“Let’s have a tourist day and do all the tourist shit.”
So we go to the wax museum, and then the Ripley’s Believe it or Not museum, and I start being flirty. She was a dancer by the way, a modern dance dancer. Modern dance to me is like random movements and applause at the end. It makes no sense. Anyway that’s why this chick was in LA I found out: to become a dancer. I was there for the palm trees and hot chicks, like her.
After the tourist shit, I say: “Come back to my apartment, let’s go chill there.”
I see the wheels in her head. They’re sayin: Should I risk my sex sobriety and go back to this guy’s apartment?
“It’s a few blocks away from here, let’s just go. Yeah?”
So she comes with me and my roommate Carla is there. Carla and I are close. She’s from Mexico and is a model and an actress and an astrologist. She heads to her room when the front door opens as she normally does when she doesn’t want to converse. I’m not sure if that’s how it happened to be honest, maybe she stayed in the living room and then went into her room. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is this chick and I go into my bedroom.
I show her my art stuff and then I sit on my bed, code for: you also can sit on my bed. She sits down and I kiss her. That’s when it all started. It was like I pushed the panic button. Furious and violent making out erupts right away.
I start choking her lightly while we kiss and she moans to signal this is right. More. Keep doing it. So I keep doing it and then lay her down. She plays with her clit. I’m thinkin damn. This chick is crazy. She’s already playin with her clit?
I had the inkling to treat her like shit cause I imagined that’s the typa shit she liked, her bein a sex addict an all…
She rips her shirt off, and I don’t mean that metaphorically, she literally rips that shit off her. She has a dancer body. Kinda ripped. I get naked. Not sure if she blew me, I can’t remember. But that’s definitely not the star of this story, even if she did.
I start fuckin her and choking her more than before.
“Hit me,” she tells me.
So I smack her in the face and her expression changes, like I just flipped another switch. Her eyes widen and her brow furrows. She spreads her legs even wider. I smack her again, hoping for more of the same reaction. I get it.
“Choke me hard.”
So I choke her hard.
“Choke me and hit me.”
So I do that.
By now I’m a bit scared but also very turned on. I’m scared cause I’m really hittin this chick pretty damn hard and she looks like she can’t breathe.
HARDER she yells.
So I go a bit harder. Then she winds up and smacks me hard as fuck in my face.
So I start whackin away at her face with one hand and chokin her hard as fuck with the other while trying to keep my balance, but we fall off the bed anyway. I’m no acrobat or whatever. This is some fucked up sex, I was thinkin. I love it. I need this always.
Eventually she cums and I cum and we both cum for ice cream. She starts putting her clothes on in silence like we both knew what just happened: we made a mistake.
But I Wanna See This Girl Picked Up And Fucked One More Time
I’m lookin at her nipples and grab one. She licks her lips. I smack her in the face, not cause I want to, cause I had to. I couldn’t not do it. I had to smack her one more time. She was a sex object and I wanted to make her feel like that cause inside I knew she liked it.
I smack her again in her face and she drops her pants like she couldn’t help it. She slams me into the wall right against where Carla’s bed is. She wanted to fight fuck, a different type of sex. I turn into an animal and start rumblin out words like
“Fuckin dumb bitch hot sexy whore slutty girl picked up and fucked slap the shit you goddam…” Like I had no idea what I was even sayin. The words made no sense. This girl made my most primitive animalistic sex drive flourish like I was a neanderthal.
I choked her neck and slapped her face and grabbed her ass and pulled her hair and threw her on the floor and put my hand in her mouth and called her a dumb cunt and let her clit throb and her pussy squeeze around my cock and BLAST.
I came again. What fucked up sex this chick likes… It’s awesome.
On her way out, Carla says bye. I tell her that Carla is an astrologist and tell Carla that this chick is a dancer. Her name is Danielle btw.
Danielle says, “Oh I love astrology!”
“Oh fun! What’s your birthday?” Carla asks.
So she tells her.
“When were you born, what time?”
And she tells her.
“What city were you born in, do you remember?”
And she tells her.
“Oh…” and Carla looks at her phone at some app or whatever. “Ohhhhh… Wow.”
“What is it?” The fucked up sex girl says.
“No, nothing. You’re a triple fire sign. That’s a lot of fire!” Then Carla’s face got weird and she was like, “okay nice to meet you!” and she went back to her room. I tell the fucked up sex girl we should stay in touch. But we don’t.
As soon as she leaves, Carla comes back out and is like… “what the fuck dude?”
“Nothing, it just sounded like a warzone in there.”
“Sorry, was it loud?”
“You were slamming into the wall directly behind my bed dude.”
“Sorry… Yeah. But I swear she liked it.”
“Of course she did she’s a goddam triple fire sign, the freak, don’t invite her back!”
And just like that, she was gone… and that was the last time I ever saw that girl picked up and fucked ever again. What an all-star she was.
One Year Later
I’m on Hollywood Blvd and I see her walkin towards me.
A weird moment. We’re both not sure what to do.
“Haven’t seen ya in a while. You never wrote me back.”
Cause I texted her askin for more but no reply.
“Yeah I know. I’m sorry. I just… You want to see my newest dance?”
And she shows me this youtube video of a dance that resembles every move of our sexual encounter, which I remember clear as day.
“It looks like… like, uhh, like us having sex.”
“I know. That’s what it is.”
“Whoa. I like it. So, you wanna come back to my apartment?”
“No, no. I can’t. I have thirty days.”
“Oh right, good. Congrats. That’s great. I don’t wanna mess up your day count. Can I walk you to your car?”
“No, probably not. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Well it was nice to see you again. Good luck with your dance.”
“Good luck with your writing and cartoons.”
She was gone.
The moral of the story is: if you’re gonna have fucked up sex make sure you really pound her to the pavement cause it may never happen again. Oh, and there’s nothing wrong with insanely horrible things if they occur during sex. That’s what makes it so beautiful. What happens during fucked up sex, stays in fucked up sex. At least that’s what I got from it…
Now here’s a story about falling in love with a stripper.