Had sex. Quincy Massachusetts. Now I’m sitting in a dark hallway in Gunther Tootie’s Bagel Cafe—the girl who lives here told me this place would be “crazy” on a Sunday morning but I went anyway.
The sex I had last night made me realize I don’t actually want a companion, I just want a fuck doll.
Chira was 30. Which turned me off and scared me at first, I don’t know that I’ve ever fucked a girl older than me, but then I saw her IRL and she looked no older than 25, much better than her pictures. And I was so god damn horny…
We met at a Starbucks. I called her and asked What are you Wearing Right Now, as I watched her through the window, from behind. She was wearing a sporty black sleeveless top and a colorfully psychedelic long-skirt-dress. Reading on a book.
Apparently you can’t just go into a Starbucks and ask for a Water any more—thanks Jews, you gotta pay, and so I paid $3.50 for one of those Wellness Shots because I knew we would be drinking heavily later tonight.
She was so nervous. That’s probably why my monkey brain clocked her at ~25 instead of 30. I sat down in front of her and the sun must have been shining right into my eyes/face, because she was heavily stuttering and smiling and trying to make a positive comment about my appearance.
For once I was not nervous. I have been meeting people off the internet at a rate of 1 person every 3-4 days for like the past several months. I am jaded. She’s actually quite cute. Bookish. I was pleasantly surprised.
I couldn’t stand to watch her fidget and squirm so nervously there in the Starbucks and so I said lets go take a walk. She said ok, relieved.
We walk to the van immediately for the tour.
Chira and I are here today because I put out a call to my female readers asking if anyone wanted to join me in the van. Like, indefinitely. Or at least until I run out of money. It’s romantic, kind of, if you can forget that I’m a retarded drug addict sex-pest who will probably use you as content for my internet blog…
Chira was not the hottest girl to reach out. But she did have an incredibly fat ass (hispanic genes), a thin waist, and looked as if she could have been half Chinese. She wore Harry Potter glasses and had an overall effect I would describe as Mild. She came from Zumba earlier in the day.
Chira asked how many other girls reached out and was disappointed to hear that my answer was just 4.
Including me?
Yes bitch, the request was insane.. do you want to drop everything get in my van and be homeless with me, a random internet man? Asian 21 year olds preferred… I did not expect anyone to respond.
She asked me to show her pictures of the other girls and I showed her Taylor: The Hottest Girl to Reach Out, By Far, who looks like she should be doing Onlyfans instead of signing up to be homeless with me.
Chira was like wow… she is really hot, but she looks crazy. I was like yeah, that’s perfect. I want crazy. I am crazy.
We’re now sitting in the booth at one of those over-the-top Chinese restaurants, called Cathay Something, side by side, because I’m a quiet man who doesn’t like to shout across a table interview-style, and also I’m a horny lonely touch starved little boy who relishes the opportunity to grab your big fat ass with my left hand as we sit.
She became less impressed with me the more I talked. I have got to stop doing that. She was not a super fan of the blog, which shocked me. Most people I meet are all-in.
I’m saying things I’ve said a thousand times before and she’s telling me she’s in-between jobs, but not in a pathetic way, in a literal way, like she was an accountant at this one place and in a month she’ll be an accountant at another place, which is convenient for me because I need a Sugar Mama. Also a lawyer.
She’s becoming slightly less nervous as we talk, slightly more nervous when I grab her leg, we split the check (despite the fact that she has way more money than I do) because I am a gentleman at the end of the day—and now I’m remembering I left a ton of leftovers at her place, fuck,
whatever,
I take her out of the Chinese restaurant and back into the van and by golly she looks so fuckable laying on the bed a little drunk like that, I start groping her as if I’m going to do it right there and my dick is disconnected from my brain, and so I get quite hard on top of her right there in the van in the parking lot of Cathay Pacific in Quincy Massachusetts and she half-thinks I’m gonna do it too… but I don’t. The van’s windows are only ~65% tinted and also I’m a pussy now. I should get them fully tinted so I can just fuck her immediately next time. Would’ve saved me about 14 hours of torture.
Reluctantly I hop into the drivers seat and begin to drive kind-of-drunk back to her place. She gets in the back, on the bed, like all my victims do, because the Passenger seat is always full of shit.
Apparently I’m “speeding” is what this blonde zoomer Hitler youth cop tells me when he pulls us over. Chira in the back is like oh shit, oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck and i’m like shut up i’ve done this before. I’ve been in much worse situations, it’s fine, i’m a genius, just trust me.
We’re on a side street now, my window’s down and I say hey officer how ya doin? he says hey… he is immediately disarmed by my kind baby white boy face. But then he looks through the van and notices I’ve got a girl laying on a bed in the back.
Uh, what’s going on here? Is she wearing a seatbelt?
“She should be…” I answer stupidly.
What are you two up to tonight?
Honesty. Always honesty.
Honestly, we’re going to hook up. We’re going to her place. We met on Tinder.
He is kind of giddy to hear this. He can’t be older than 32. He takes pity on me.. Ha, what a thing to happen on your first date!
I’m like yeah we had Dinner at Cathay’s, the Chinese place, he’s local, he’s heard of Cathay’s, everything’s gonna be OK, he takes our licenses and Chira’s a little nervous cause it takes a while, it always takes a while..
I don’t know what these cops do when they take the licenses back into their mechanical Christmas trees and sit for like 8 minutes but it’s enough to give Chira pause… I can’t get in trouble for this can I? No. you’re fine. He comes back and says alright, you’re fine, I’m gonna let you off with a warning, drive slower, you have a good night. Wink. Oh thank you, you too sir. Wink.
Cops treat you like royalty when you’re a young guy who’s clearly about to fuck. This guy didn’t even ask me to move her into the front seat, he just went back to his truck and drove off. Great.
Back on the road. We stop at a liquor store and buy a fat purple bottle of Whisky. Black cherry. I buy it ‘cause I like the way the bottle looks. I don’t put too much thought into these things, I just need to be more drunk.
She says “Welp, that’s the most fun I’ve had in over a year” and I believe her. I’m really doing a service for these girls, scaring them like this. I don’t feel bad about what happened next.
What happened next is this: we went into her place and began to drink the purple bottle of whisky, aggressively, until I was drunk enough to start pushing her against the wall and threatening her with my increasingly painful erection. She lives in a one bedroom apartment where you can apparently see right into the living room so we must move into the bedroom. She sleeps on a thin futon on the floor. She’s more Chinese than most of the Chinese girls I’ve fucked so far. She’s intent on playing music while we fuck, which I’m not terribly opposed to, but I can always do without. Spanish music, so that we are not distracted by the lyrics.
The music-while-fucking question always gives me pause, especially when it’s a male Spanish vocalist, I’m thinking: is she closing her eyes and imagining it’s him? That’s probably a silly thing to think. The female brain will always be a mystery to me.
She hasn’t fucked in a while, she’s very sensitive. I wrestle her down onto the futon-floor and pet her as gently as I can. It’s funny, the oldest girl I’ve fucked so far is the most sensitive. And she wasn’t just saying that—she began to breathe heavily and make involuntary movements/sounds as soon as my fingers grazed her nether-region. I knew I would have to tread slowly but nothing could have prepared me for the endless War that was to come.
Look, I know girls like foreplay. I know that it takes more time for a woman to become aroused sexually than it does for a man. But this bitch called for a marathon. After about 20… 30… 40.. minutes of making out, stroking, fingering, hair-pulling, ass-slapping, neck-biting, word-saying, moaning, yearning, nipple licking…
I can not take it any more, it’s time to fuck. It’s time for me to insert my penis inside you because there’s more life to live. She really makes me work for it… I am drunk enough to force her.
What I want, deep in my heart, is to fuck her big fat white ass standing up against the wall standing up until I Cum Inside. But she’s not on birth control, and I am Human after all, and she is 30, and so I’m not going to do that. At this point I foolishly believe I’m still in control.
I haven’t yet realized that she needs me to take her against her will or this isn’t going to happen.
I edge her for probably over 1,000 seconds, which is 15 minutes of silently methodically slowly stroking her pussy and listening to her go ohhh, uhhh, i don’t deserve this,,,ohh you touch me so good, I am sobering up by the second, fading in and out of rock-hardedness, patiently awaiting my turn…
Fuck it, I’m going for another rape. I envision the blog post: My Second Rape. Fuck it, she wants me to do it.
She questions me: why do you want to fuck me so bad? what’s going to happen after? what’s the point?
These are good questions during the day, but very-drunk very-hard in a dark room at 10 PM my answers are just retarded: because it would feel good, because: uhhh…
So for the next, maybe, hour, I attempt to force her down onto her back or stomach and take her against her will. She’s too strong. It is humiliating. She’s laughing at me and I’m laughing too. No, I need it. You don’t understand… she understands perfectly well.
I can’t tell if she’s being like this because she wants this or because she thinks I want this.
Earlier in the car she said she liked my last story “Kidnapping my Ex Girlfriend.” With this in mind I keep trying, fruitlessly, she licks her palm and jerks me off to torture me further, which is kind of hot in retrospect, but I know from my past couple close encounters of the female Kind that I always regret it more if I don’t fuck them, no matter what. I’m doing my future self a favor by trying so hard.
I am just not physically strong enough. Barely. We’re going in circles.
Then, at some point, for no reason at all, a few things hit me all at once:
1. I don’t want a companion, a friend, to bring on the road with me, I just want a fuck doll, who I can cum inside and get back to work.
2. I am still in love with that girl from Harvard, and everything else feels fake.
3. I cannot take this girl Chira with me on the road.
and with all this I just die. I just go silent and roll over and fall asleep on my back with my arms over my head I just die. She becomes concerned, lonely, affectionate, I just fall asleep and die.
6-8 hours later, I have no idea how many hours really because my phone’s dead and we’ve been going at this for years, she wakes me up stroking my Cock.
Oh boy, here we go again. Now my mouth is closed because I fear my own morning breath.
Either I’m stronger now, or she’s weaker, or my 6-8 hours of ignoring her have softened her up, because now I climb up on top of her in missionary and successfully, still against her wishes, force myself inside. But I swear, your honor, if this completely hypothetical fictional story were ever to be used as evidence of anything… it wasn’t truly rape… it was Play.
Once this barrier has been breached the game is over. Now that I’m inside her she’s completely okay with the fact that I’m inside her. Huh. Now she wants me to go slow, which is convenient, because if I move with any speed at all I’m going to cum inside her instantly. She’s got a dancers’ body. She’s relatively tight.
Now that I’m inside her, I look at her face and I see Katherine Dee. Substack blogger Katherine Dee. The one who called me to interview me last August, when I first started this thing, and then, 10 months later, in May, made an angry little post to decree that what I do is not “cute” not “funny any more,” which made me sad because I kind of like her, as an Internet person. You know I’ll never stop, Katherine.
I also think of that girl from Harvard, as I always do now—I wonder if sex with her would have been similarly difficult, if I made a real attempt to do it. I wonder if she would’ve needed to be consensually-non-consent-fucked too.
Now that I’m inside Chira I’m just trying not to cum. She’s not on birth control, obviously, so I’m going to have to pull out. Which I successfully do. It’s kind of anti-climactic, besides the obvious I-came-chemicals that render me suddenly able to now get on with the rest of my life.
It’s so cruel, when I haven’t had Sex in a while, all I want is Sex, Sex is the most important thing in the world, I’d do anything to get Sex, I’d delude myself into thinking that I want a GIRLFRIEND again, which is what this would be, really, if I were to take you with me in the van and drive West, it would just be another girlfriend.
But now that I have had Sex, the prospect of taking you with me, or taking any girl with me, besides the select few girls I suffer through some real emotional attachment to, it just feels like work.
Fuck it, I’ll just be candid. The three girls who would not feel like work are in Jacksonville, Cambridge, and Eugene. But none of them want me, all for entirely different reasons.
I hope Chira doesn’t want me either. I sincerely hope that Chira feels exactly what I feel right now, which is that we had fun but it was just sex, we don’t need to travel together indefinitely.
I swear I did not make that Substack post in an attempt to get one-off sex like this. Well… It is nice... But… in this case, I don’t want any more than that.
Of course, Chira is not her name. It’s just the pseudonymous stand-in I chose. Chira is actually the name of my Mother.
Your mother’s name 😭
She pursued you, she took advantage of the nature she knew you had, she even pleasured you in your sleep. Both of you were inebriated, so it can’t be considered as one taking advantage of the other… Is it possible that this was the second rape as in, this was the second time you were raped by one of these women? It could be interpreted as such…
Have you ever heard of Taoist sex vampirism? Being as embedded in the Asian dating community as you are, I recommend you keep an eye out for it. Traditionally, men of power would have sex with groups of prostitutes, but practice semen retention or ejaculation control. They would do this to literally suck the life force out of young women… But it could backfire and bring their own life force into the women if they became invested in the act and blew up. I think Asian succubi still exist and seek to suck the life energy out of White boys like what Android 19 did to Goku
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sexual_vampire
Evola on Taoist sex magic:
“Moreover, ethnology has recorded the belief that certain shamans have the power to vampirize living beings to the point of reducing them to a type of bare nothings [I presume “zombies”]: they seem to have been left traces of that in the black practices of the Voodoo of Haiti. Regarding properly erotic vampirism it is instead the case when the subtle vital force of a woman is fed with the goal of strengthening one’s own vitality. That seemed to be the case in the Old Testament, with King Solomon [I think he means King David] who lay down with naked young girls, “without knowing them”: all the more that an analogous procedure is likewise attested to both in central Asia and ancient China. Regarding the former, Alexandra David-Neel who stayed there for quite a while, recounts that one of the methods “to increase one’s own life” and maintain one’s own youth would consist in using young women to come to orgasm without however participating in the pleasure. More or less the same procedure is again found in ancient operative Chinese Taoism, in the play of the Dragon with the Tiger (the Dragon representing man, the Tiger the young woman), meant to guarantee “eternal life” to the one “who has knowledge”. Here, sometimes, it would seem to be about a pure masculine vampirism (having as its object not blood but a vital subtle substance) not only because, rather unfairly, the young women should be kept in the dark about the hidden goal of the union for fear that, by knowing it, they could take the lead, inverting the roles and exploiting the man who would like to vampirize them, but also because it is recommended to use different ones sequentially, one text saying that the best result is obtained when one is matched with as many as ten girls in one night. That, however, does not represent a barely credible masculine tour de force (especially if the designation of the woman as “tiger” was not just a manner of speaking), because, at the same time, it is prescribed not to ejaculate (“rigid organ without ejaculation”), which relates to what the method required to strengthen his own life, again evidently requiring the renunciation, on the man’s part, of the pleasure that man experiences when he pours himself without reservation into the woman’s flesh.”