The Pussy

Slayer

I went to Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous. Because I was gonna have a mentally ill woman fly over the Pacific to move into my apartment. I’ve never met her. Our interactions are emails and skypes. I want you to fill my hot holes with your cum, she says. I want you to get me pregnant and call me daddy’s little cum slut. I think I’m going to take pills and kill myself. But she is 22 and Chinese and pretty. All that matters.

Also because I fucked that girl Sunday. OKCupid. It was the morning after my AA fifth step. You take your diary of the evils you’ve done out of hatred and lust and fear and read it to someone. I was with my sponsor inside a 3,000 year old hollowed out sequoia tree. The next day I woke up and meditated for an hour, per Bill W. in the Big Book. Crows cawed behind me and I understood their language. Creatures putting their song into the world. I thought on all my evils. What I’ve done and could still do. I understood that God was real and I was forgiven. I understood that I’d forget this truth but it would still be real. I was laughing and crying. I felt like I’d taken 12 hits of acid. One of the most significant experiences of my life.

Because of my spiritual awakening I moved the date from drinks to daytime. It is bad to use other human beings as fleshlights. We’d feed ducks at the pond. I’d go in with an open heart and get to know her.

The ducks got boring so we ate chicken tenders at Brite Spot and then I took her home and fucked her. I hit it raw and came in her in 3 pumps. Decent sized tits but they were spongey and her taint and inner thighs were woolly like an Armenian. She liked me. We will never speak again.

I am a machine and I can’t stop fucking people. On dates I feel like I’m watching a movie of myself. The whole thing is on rails and if I try to break free I can’t. The duck pond was supposed to be a pleasant G rated affair but now that it happened once, the duck pond is a fuck spot. It doesn’t matter. It could be a church. If I’m with you we are going to fuck. If you fuck enough women women can’t not fuck you. They’re just animals. If you smell like pussy they have to give you more pussy, the way banks give rich people money. As a man, you have no mechanism for not fucking. Not fucking is a woman’s job. The day after, I’m back to hideous thirst and the hole that will never be filled.

I was early for the meeting. Just me and one other guy and he kept eyefucking me. Gays. This is a valuable lesson, I told myself. This is how AA girls feel when I drill my laser eyes into them every meeting. Every woman I see anywhere I leer into her pupils and imagine that I’m pushing down on her collarbones and squirting a crawly unprotected load into her. Making that stupid hot sauce shit face I make when I cum. Hold the stare until she looks away. Colleagues, junior high school girls, the girl selling me cigarettes at the 7-11. The girl on the bus that I’m riding right now, who held my eyes for a heartbeat then scampered to the back like she was in sniper alley.

The meeting started. People talked. They bored the shit out of me and I left to go pull girls off Tinder.