Before he starts the car he says, “Pull your tights down and spread your legs and let me see,” and I do, and he just watches me. When he stops the car at Sunset Park, a short drive away, and leans over, his beard is rough against my thighs exactly as I imagined it, and he’s biting and sucking and I’m in heaven and then he’s suddenly slowing way down.

“I shouldn’t do this,” he mumbles with his mouth still buried in my pussy. Oh god, maybe this is the bad sex I deserve, when it begins to orbit off the chart and you know that somehow when it’s over it’s going to wrap right back around and come up on the awful horrifying side as chastity reclaimed.

“I shouldn’t do this,” he repeats, and I think maybe he’s waiting for me to save him. This is one of those damned defining moments in life. Define the moment or it defines you. Screw him, or screw him? Fuck it. Or fuck me. I reach down and stroke his hard cock through his jeans.

“I’ll be good for you, Tiger. Don’t stop, don’t stop.” He lifts my sweater and we’re tumbling toward the backseat like teenagers in lust, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to excuse this behavior later as research but maybe I don’t even care. My tights are off and my legs are wrapped high around his big shoulders and his cock presses into me and he leans down and begins to bite my nipple and send me over the edge. He pauses and I think I will die if he stops one more time. “You’re right, darling,” he whispers, driving into me hard. “For tonight, there’s just no such thing as bad sex.”

SUSANNAH INDIGO

on “The Year of Fucking Badly”

I wrote this story after a discussion of “bad sex” as a writing theme. Just like my protagonist, I couldn’t quite pin the concept down, and I had no great “bad sex” story of my own.

I’m sure fifteen years ago before BDSM became cocktail party chatter and standard TV fare, someone asking to be tied up might have been “bad” or emotionally traumatic, because it was misunderstood.

The Internet altered much of this—knowledge changes everything. I figure by the twenty-second century, the concept of “bad sex”—and even boring/selfish sex—will simply be absurd: who would ever let that happen to them in a century where every human being is empowered with full knowledge of all aspects of sexuality?

Story of O
Birthday Party

Susie Bright

“…a happy prisoner upon whom everything was imposed and from whom nothing was asked.”

—THE STORY OF O