You Chose Each Other

9 Dec

okc starter screen

I’m posting old unpublished material to draw page views for my new book Finally, Some Good News.

This story is from 2013, so has a man and woman meeting from OKCupid. 

He was on top of her, rubbing on her pussy. She was squirming around. Biting his lip. He was working lower and lower until he could get the tip in.

He pushed into her. Gave it a few slow pumps. She was good and wet. Had to stay still or else he’d cum. This was checkmate. The world could end tomorrow but let no man say he didn’t get pussy. She’d stopped moving. Just shaking a little.

Shaking. She was crying. He looked at her. Asked if she was OK. Still in her. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Stop, she said.

He rolled off. Jesus I’m sorry, I thought you were into it.

I wasn’t.

Well shit, I didn’t mean to, uh– I’m sorry.

He was on his side, leaning over her, looking at her eyes and her eyes were looking at the ceiling. Past it.

I’ve had bad experiences, she said.

Yeah, I guess so. Let’s chill out for a second then.

Not knowing what else to do he got more wine. That was date rape, technically. By the letter of the law, he thought. Not the spirit. At some point she stopped liking it. He just didn’t notice. Wasn’t exactly looking for evidence either. But she said stop and he stopped. So: not a rapist.

What if she called the cops. Cops never did anything. Victims were blamed. No one was ever prosecuted, the internet told him. Well too bad for the world but good for me.

And she said stop and I stopped. She said stop and I stopped. Fuck, before that it all felt like enthusiastic consent. She was into it like a motherfucker. Some switch just got thrown.

But how long had she not been into it. Maybe to her it was just some big guy crushing her and she kissed him because she didn’t know what else to do. Maybe maybe maybe. He was back in the bedroom now. She was still on her back. He was still hard. Awkward boner sticking out like a gear shift. Richard Wagner’s Entry of the Gods into Valhalla playing on YouTube as conducted by Otto Klemperer.

She seemed better. So he started making out with her again. Softer this time. There was feeling in it since he’d seen her cry. He sat her up and put her on his lap and kissed her. The blinds were open and there was moonlight and she was a tiny girl, she looked 14. Fishbelly pale and wet eyes. You wanted to put a warm blanket over her.

Maybe we can calm her down. Maybe fuck her again. The mood was better. He held her face.

Listen– I didn’t mean to uh, rape you. He said it like half a joke. She smiled, thank God.

I’ve had that happen to me, she said. I’ve had it happen.

Well I’m not that kind of person.

It kind of seems like you are.

She was back from whatever crying place she’d gone to. She’d been funny at the bar. An actress. He should have taken it slower. She made him laugh. Eleven drinks in you’re not driving the train. She thinks you’re a psychopath now. Nothing to be done.

Do you have a condom, she said.

He did, from the fishbowl of free ones at the AIDS testing place. But he said no. He didn’t believe in them.


I have to ask you.


Does your profile actually work? I mean it seems insane.

Well define work.

Do a lot of girls go out with you?

Yeah but I’m a handsome genius.

You have a high opinion of yourself.

Wouldn’t you.

She laughed, finally. She’d been late. Took a cab, figured I’d be drinking, she texted. A giant old-timey billboard lit up that read FREE PUSSY. Only thing now is don’t fuck up. She finished her drink before him. He drank like a man walking into a desert. Don’t fuck up.

I kind of thought it was performance art.

Yeah but what isn’t in this life

Move her around. Front room, back room. Change tables. Cigarette break. Different bar. Make her feel like she’s traveled with you. Touch her early. Give your arm when you’re walking. Spin her around. Don’t accept her frame.

I was engaged to a psychopath, she said. When I was 19. He was 42. The FREE PUSSY sign lit up brighter. Colored lights dancing on the edges of the letters. They were at the second bar. Different places. It extends time in their mind. Make them feel like they know you.


She kept holding the empty plastic cup. I thought you wanted to date, she said.

I don’t see what one has to do with the other.

You think unprotected sex is a good way to start things?

It’s the only way to start things.

I can’t believe you–

Listen, I’m sorry, seriously

You ought to be. That was horrible.

You’re kind of an awful person.

Bit of a leap there. I thought you were into it.


I did, I swear.

She was quiet. Not knowing what else to do, he got more wine. When he got back she took a big sip.

I was fucking crying and you were about to cum.

I was caught up.

You said you didn’t just want to fuck.

And I’m still saying that! Jesus–

Then why did you fuck me

Why? Have you not– do you not understand men?

Have you never met a man in your life? If there’s a chance I can fuck, I have to fuck. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you.

I’m sorry to be so weird. I’m sorry but I’ve had bad things happen. My first date from the fucking site–

Every girl had that story. Never long before they told you. He knew it was bad but couldn’t bring himself to hurt for her. He was hot like a sickness now. Never jerk off before a first date. It helps you see the good in people. Even her crying was hot. Even the thought of the other guy. In a room just like this. The one who got there first.

6 Responses to “You Chose Each Other”

  1. Anonymous December 9, 2018 at 1:39 pm #

    You are a sick piece of shit.

    • delicioustacos December 9, 2018 at 1:49 pm #

      This is fiction and I’m not saying the guy’s a hero.

      But to your point, there’s a reason I decided not to post it 5 years ago.

  2. chezgrey December 9, 2018 at 7:14 pm #

    Any guy who stops fucking after slipping it in raw because he’s a gentlman is a hero in my book.

    Once I was fucking a girl from Tinder, flipped her onto her stomach and went in from the top fast and furious. She whimpered ‘stop’ and I withdrew, held her shoulders while my cock cradled between her smooth asscheeks. I gently asked her what was wrong. Instantly she began crying and told me as the tears streamed from her eyes I was the first guy who had ever stopped pounding her pussy when she asked.

    I felt like someone had dropped a ten pound olympic plate on my sternum from chest height. How many guys? Why hadn’t they heeded her requests & what would that feel like? Why was the idea so damn hot? Was I a man of honor or a simp, and is there a difference, knowing I couldn’t have not listened to her and kept going like all the badguys before? I should have asked her these questions. Instead I comforted her for a minute, took off my condom and continued fucking her sideways.

  3. anon December 9, 2018 at 11:32 pm #

    I don’t really see how this makes you a sick piece of shit, exchanges exactly like this have been in awkward romances or dramas since the 70s.
    Also lol at the movement and touch her arm, I haven’t read much of that kind of game theory but I remember that. Did that actually work back before social media, and isn’t that basically just not being an autist?

    • everybodyhatesscott December 11, 2018 at 4:03 pm #

      Did that actually work back before social media, and isn’t that basically just not being an autist?

      It still works. Some of us are borderline autistic

  4. Atlanta Man December 12, 2018 at 7:21 am #

    Holy shit, that was that old school Delicious Tacos! Back when you still drank and did drugs, it was awesome. I am going to buy your book anyway , but keep publishing the old unpublished shit- I am loving it.

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