ONE
One time, Jupiter, happy to be idle,
Swept the cosmic mystery aside
And draining another goblet of ambrosia
Teased Juno, who drowsed in bliss beside him:
‘This love of male and female’s a strange business.
Fifty-fifty investment in the madness,
Yet she ends up with nine-tenths of the pleasure.’
Juno’s answer was: ‘A man might think so.
It needs more than a mushroom in your cup
To wake a wisdom that can fathom which
Enjoys the deeper pleasure, man or woman.
It needs the solid knowledge of a soul
Who having lived and loved in woman’s body
Has also lived and loved in the body of man.’
– Ovid, The Metamorphoses
But if I told you everything you’d probably think I was a slut and I can’t deal with that so I’m not going to tell you absolutely everything. I mean, I can’t fully deal with myself if I call myself a slut. It’s just that I know there’s all these problems with a girl like me having sex so much. I think if a guy loves sex it comes from the pleasure he feels in his cock – which is why he’s never called a slut. But because it’s easier for a girl to get disconnected from all the feelings she has down there, she can get lost trying to know herself. Do you see what I’m saying? Being a slut kind of implies getting lost, going astray.
I think the trouble, too, is that a slut understands that there is not as much pleasure having sex as she wants there to be. Pleasure roams around her body like a runaway. I am speaking from experience on this. I used to hop from guy to guy, always looking to feel more down there, and I got so disappointed. I felt like I was missing something, as if my body were lacking the basest enjoyment that was supposed to be there. I’d seen how pleasure touched a cock and made a guy look like he was never coming back. Pleasure hurled right through him! But my pleasure never felt done – even when I came, there were parts stuck inside. Pleasure clung to my stomach, it swelled up my throat.
See, I used to be the kind of girl who’d walk down the street and practically call out fuck me fuck me fuck me to strangers. I’d get dressed really sexy and go out to clubs to pick up. In the secret pit of myself, I felt like a lunatic loose on the street, legs in the air, eyes popping wide. I wanted men to grab me and fuck me right there.
There was this time when I went out by myself and I wasn’t wearing any underwear. I straddled the bar stool, toes swinging over the ground. My pussy lips were pressing on the leather. My whole body was balanced like this, legs wide, back arched, clit stampeding like a bull. Then this man got near to me and started checking me out sideways. I saw his hands grip the bar. I knew right away that this was the person who was going to fuck me.
‘Can I buy you a drink?’ the guy asked.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Anything.’
A grin started widening all over my face. It was like it was mocking my part down below. I thought I was going to start laughing out loud. I couldn’t put words to what was going on, but my stomach felt like it was going to erupt under my skirt, my body kept getting these warm continuous blows. I thought every person in that bar could see that coming off me. I mean, how much I wanted. How I could’ve fucked all of them from the way I felt. It’s always the same, I thought, getting sex like this is always the same. It starts from this feeling of flagrancy, which expands until it flattens, until I forget where I live and I forget what I like, until I don’t even recognize my face in the morning.
The man at the bar started laughing with me, as if he knew that I was holding myself back. Then he stole my hand and pressed it on his dick. We both straightened our backs, like we were bracing ourselves. All my flesh pulled toward his flesh. I gulped my drink and banged for more.
‘More!’ I shouted. More! More! More!
I started rubbing that guy with my fist up and down under the bar. His cock was a hose, all coiled up and bulging. I wanted to hold it forever. But my cunt was breathing like a small animal, begging me to do something.
‘Let’s go!’ I pleaded.
The man looked at my eyes, as if he were confused by my need, then he opened his mouth to say something. I looked above his head. I didn’t want to see how he was going to say yes. I didn’t want to see if his mouth was trembling. The guy took my hand from his dick and held it tight. I slid off the bar stool. My cunt was so wet. Both my shoes hit the ground.
I followed him out the back door of the club to the parking lot. I felt air rising under my skirt. The darkness was drying all the stuff on my thighs. The man led me to the end of the lot by a fence. He leaned up against it and pulled down his zipper. I wanted to cling to his body like wind. But when I saw the glare of his long hanging thing I went down on my knees. His cock started swelling in front of my face. I opened my mouth. I took the head of his dick between my lips. My whole neck arched up and circled round. I was sucking and sucking and I heard a car starting behind me. I couldn’t stop, my heart was speeding. The car was coming closer behind my back. I couldn’t stop. I felt the lights burning onto my ass, pumping as I sucked. I closed my eyes, I jacked my jaw. I kept sucking in a pulse going on and going off. I thought I heard two men laughing behind me. Then it got dark around us and I couldn’t breathe right.
‘Hey,’ the guy moaned, lifting my head by the hair. ‘Hey, come up now – easy, baby.’
My breathing got rapid, ragged, the second the head of him popped from my lips. I’d wanted it faster and harder. I didn’t care who was watching.
‘Don’t. I want more!’
My tongue was hanging out, my palms were on his legs, I was breathing so fast.
‘I wanna fuck you,’ the guy said. ‘Come back up.’
I saw the guy’s stretched-out neck. I wanted him to fuck me too. I pressed my breasts into his legs. The sky looked so large and so black that I felt like I could fly underneath it.
The man raised my dress as I climbed him. My naked ass was exposed and I felt it clench in his hands. Then
he slipped his palm through my thighs and put two of his fingers inside me. I was so wet down there, dripping. I tried to squeeze his fingers up me but I didn’t have time. He was poking my cunt like a madman.
‘Let me do it, just like this, let me feel you, lemme fuck you, just for a second, just for a second.’
My thighs were splitting and I started to shiver. I was rocking back and forth, my whole pelvis in his hand. My pussy was sticking to his fingers like a leech. I wanted to fuck, to feel his cock just like this, his skin on my skin. I wanted to plug up my hole, feel his whole naked part up my whole naked centre. I wanted to jolt myself, fuck myself, make myself cum. My hands went to the guy’s chest. I wanted my fists to pound until I hurt him.
It was like I was stuck. I knew where I was and I knew what I was going to do.
‘Get a condom. Come on!’
The man reached down. I couldn’t look at what he was doing. My face was turned up toward the sky. We were pressing back into the fence. I was swallowing hard. I couldn’t stop now. I felt the man’s bone pressing up in my thighs, he was bending his knees. I was trying to stop myself from moaning too loud. My lower body felt like it was going to flare open. Then he pushed up so hard that it shocked me. My legs went all locked. My mouth filled up with air. He was lifting me up, right from the ground. It was like my cunt lips were sliding out of my body, growing, and I thought I heard men laughing again. I squeezed my legs, clipped so tight, we were fucking and rocking back into the fence. I tried to shift myself more and more in his hands, move with his thrusting – god, he was in me …
It was all going too fast, I couldn’t keep up. The man was gripping my hips, his head to the sky. Still stabbing, he opened, lips unfurled, eyes jacked wide, his temples were beating all over his face. I held his shoulders, our lips almost came together, and I clamped my hands on his head: you’re beautiful you’re beautiful you’re beautiful. Then he made this noise like a tied-up dog. Still pounding and thumping, his knuckles dug into the sides of my ass. I knew it was over. My breathing sounded almost like crying.