I ABSOLUTELY LOVE TO fuck. These longings, unexplainable longings deep within me, drive me wild, and I have no way of relieving them. Living them. I’m 27 and I love to fuck. Sometimes with people I want to fuck; sometimes, and I can’t tell when but I remember these times, with anybody who’ll touch me. These, I call them nymphomaniac, times have nothing to do with (are not caused by) physical pleasure, for my cunt could be sore, I could be sick, and yet I’d feel the same way. I’ll tease you till you don’t know what you’re doing, honey, and grab; and then I’ll do anything for you.
I haven’t always been this way. Once upon a time I was an intelligent sedate girl, who, like every intelligent sedate girl, hated her parents and didn’t care about money. O in those days I didn’t care about anything! I dated boys, stayed out till 5.00 in the morning then snuck home, read a lot of books. I cared more for the books than anyone else and would kiss my books good-night when I went to sleep. Would never go anywhere without a book. But my downfall came. My parents kicked me out of the house because I wasn’t interested in marrying a rich man, I didn’t care enough about money to become a scientist or a prostitute, I couldn’t even figure out how to make any money.
I didn’t. I became poor and had to find a way of justifying my lousy attitude about money. At first, like all poor people, I had delusions about being a great artist, but that quickly passed. I never did have any talent.
I want to fuck these two fantastic artists even though I’m not an artist: that’s what this is about. This is the only way I can get them: (I only want them for a few hours. Days.) Jewels hang from the tips of silver branches. I also want money.
My name is Kathy Acker.
The story begins by me being totally bored.
Sunny California is totally boring; there are too many blondassed surf jocks. I was lying on my bed, wondering if I should go down to the beach or sun myself on the patio until I passed out. I watched the curly silky brown hair below the damp palm of my hand rise and fall, I watched the rise, the mound twist in agony, laughed at myself. No way, I muttered, among these creeps no way. I need to love someone who can, by lightly, lightly stroking my flesh, tear open this reality, rip my flesh open until I bleed. Red jewels running down my legs and branches. I need someone who knows everything and who’ll love me endlessly; then stop. My cats leaped up to me and rubbed their delicious bodies against my body. My cats didn’t exist.
Suddenly heard a knocking at the door. No one ever knocks at the door, they just walk in. I wondered if it was FBI agents, or the telephone Mafia after Art Povera. I opened the door and saw Dan, I didn’t know his name then, looking bewildered. Then, seeing me, looking scared. I realized I had forgotten to put clothes on. That’s how southern California is: hot.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for 46 uh Belvedere.”
“Oh you mean up the hill where David and Elly live; I’ll show you. I have to get some clothes on.”
He followed me into my small bedroom.
As I slowly bent over, reaching for my jeans, I noticed him watching me. He had brown hair, couldn’t see his eyes because he squints so much but they look red, some acne, short with a body I like: heavy enough to run into and feel its weight on me; about 30 years old. I hesitantly took hold of my jeans. He started to talk again: he talks too much. I wanted him to rip off my skin, take me away to where I’d always be insane. He didn’t want to fuck with me, much less do anything else. I slowly lifted my leg to put on my jeans, changed my mind. I turned around; suddenly we grabbed each other: I felt his body: his lips wet and large against my lips, his arms pressing my back and stomach into his thick endless stomach, his mouth over me, sucking me, exploring me I want this
“I want you you lousy motherfucker I want you to do everything to me I want you to tell me you want me I want you any way I can get you. Do you understand?” We run screaming out into the night, other people don’t exist, feet touching the cold store, then the sand, then the black ocean water. I look up: black; toward the sand: black; I reach up for him and fall. The water passes over us. We stand up, spouting water; our mouths’ wetness into each other’s mouth cling together to stay erect. I rise up on my toes, the black waves rising, carefully, press my thighs into his so that his cock can touch my cunt. His right hand caresses his cock, touches its tip to my cunt lips, moves upward, into me I hold him tighter we fall
My hand touches my wet curling hairs then the thick lips of my cunt. Takes sand, rubs the sand into the outer lips of my cunt. Two areas of softness wetness touch me, move back so the cold air swirls at, touch me I feel warm liquid trickling between the swelling lips I feel them swelling a tongue a burning center touches me harder, inside the swollen lips: I lift my legs and imprison him. My nipples are hard as diamonds. The inner skin of my knees presses against his rough hairs: now I feel roughness: sandpaper rubbing the screaming skin above my clit. The joining of my inner lips almost more sensitive than my clit. Now I feel soft surface wetnesses, gently lap, now the burning center which becomes my burning center: rhythmically pressing until time becomes burning as I do. I’m totally relaxed. I’m a tongue which I can’t control: which I beg to touch me each time it stops so I can open wider, rise rise toward the black, I open rising screaming I feel it: I feel waves of senses screaming I want more and more.
At the peak, as I think I’m beginning to descend, he throws himself on me and enters me making me come again again. All I feel is his cock in me moving circling circling every inch of my cunt walls moving back forth every inch, he stops, I can’t, he starts slamming in to me not with his cock but the skin around his cock slamming into my clit I come I come he moves his cock into me slowly even more slowly, and then leaves.
For the new life, I have to change myself completely.
The next artist I meet in a bar in New York. I’m sick of artists. The next man I meet is tall, dark, and handsome. I was wearing a black silk sheath slashed in the back to the ruby which signals the delicate opening of my buttocks: tiny black diamonds in my ears and on the center of my fingernails. I had come to the bar to drink: it was an old transvestite bar East Village New York no one goes during the week, rows upon rows of white-covered tables low hanging chandeliers containing almost no light: mirrors which are walls reflect back, reflections upon reflections, tiny stars of light. The only people in the bar are the two women who run the bar, tiny grey-haired women who look like men: incredibly sexy. One or two Spanish hustlers. I wanted to be alone.
I had no background. I’m not giving you details about myself because these two occurrences are the first events of my life. Otherwise I don’t exist: I’m a mirror for beauty. The man walked up to me and sat down. He bought two beers. I wasn’t noticing him.
“What do you really want to happen?” he asked me. I couldn’t answer him because I don’t reveal the truth to people I know slightly, only to strangers and to people I know well and want to become. “I used to act as a stud,” he was trying to put me at my ease. “Housewives would pick me up in their cars, pay me to satisfy them. I didn’t mind because I hate housewives: that class. Then I used to work this motel: I’d knock on a door to a room, a man would start screaming “don’t come in don’t come in” scream louder and louder; after a while he’d throw a pair of semened-up underpants out the door. In the pants would be ten dollars.”
I couldn’t say anything to him because I was starting to respect him.
“I only like people of the working class,” he went on. Underneath the table, he was slowly pouring wine on the black silk of my thigh. I moved my legs slightly, open, so the cold liquid would hit the insides of my thighs. Then close my thighs, rubbing them slowly together. “You have a lot of trouble with men, don’t you?”
“Don’t you love me?” I cried in anguish. “Don’t you care anything about me?”
He gently took me in his arms kissed me. Lightly and gently. He didn’t press me to him or touch me passionately. “Quick,” he whispered. “Before they notice.”
He threw me back on the velvet ledge we had been sitting on, pulled up my shift, and entered me. I wanted more. As I feel his cock rotate slowly around the skins of my cunt walls, touching each inch slowly too slowly, he began again to pour wine on my body: liquid cooling all of my skin except the inside burning skin of my cunt. Putting ice in my mouth on my eyes, around the thick heavy ridges of my breasts. Cock slowly easing out of me, I can’t stand that, I can’t stand that absence I start to scream I see my mound rise upward: the heavy brown hairs surrounded by white flesh, the white flesh against the black silk: I see his cock enter me, slide into me like it belongs in my slimy walls, I tighten my muscles I tighten them around the cock, jiggling, thrust upward, thousands of tiny fingers on the cock, fingers and burning tongues: this is public I have to move fast: explodes I explode and my mound rises upward, toward the red-black ceiling, I see my mound rise upward, toward the red-black ceiling I see us come fast.
He quickly got out of me, and arranged our clothes. No one in the bar had noticed. We kissed goodbye, perfunctorily, and he left.
Every night now I dream of my two lovers. I have no other life. This is the realm of complete freedom: I can put down anything. I see Dan: The inner skin of my knees presses against his rough hairs: now I feel roughness: sand-paper rubbing the screaming skin above my clit. The joining of my inner lips almost more sensitive than my clit. Now I feel soft surface wetnesses, gently lap, now the burning center which becomes my burning center: rhythmically pressing until time becomes burning as I do. I’m totally relaxed. I’m a tongue which I can’t control: which I beg to touch me each time it stops so I can open wider, rise rise toward the black, I open rising screaming
I see my second artist love: I can’t stand that absence I start to scream I see my mound rise upward: the heavy brown hairs surrounded by white flesh, the white flesh against the black silk: I see his cock enter me, slide into me like it belongs in my slimy walls, I tighten my muscles I tighten them around the cock, jiggling, thrust upward, thousands of tiny fingers on the cocks, fingers and burning tongues: this is public I have to move fast: explodes I explode and my mound rises upward, toward the red-black ceiling, I see
I want a woman.
I’m sick of dreaming.
I decide to find these two artists no matter what no matter where. I’ll be the most beautiful and intelligent woman in the world to them.
I want to make something beautiful: an old-fashioned wish. To do this I must first accomplish four tasks, for the last one I must die: Then I’ll have something beautiful, and can fuck the men I want to fuck because they’ll want to fuck me.
For the first task I have to learn to be as industrious as possible: I have to work as hard as possible to make up for my lack of beauty and charm. Not that I’m not extremely beautiful. I have to learn what is the best love-sex possible, and separate those people whom I can love from those people I can’t love. I have until nightfall to do this.
Last night I dreamt I was standing on a low rise of grassy ground; Dan was standing next to me facing me. He put his arms around my neck kissed me, said “I love you.” I said “I love you.” Two years later I’m riding through a forest with my four younger sisters, green and wet, leaves in our eyes and skin; we push leaves out of the way the brown horse’s neck lowered. My next-to-youngest sister tells me Dan asked her to marry him two months ago. I’m galloping wildly through the woods branches tear at my eyes flakes of my skin hanging. I try to go faster and faster. It’s night. Three days later I appear, night, the livingroom of my parents’ house: we’re moving to Boston, a bayview overlooking a black sky, where I go to college. The skin of my face is torn; bruises over my naked arms; one of my eyes is bloodshot. My family’s glad I haven’t died. My father greets me, then my older sister who’s tall, blonde, beautiful, intelligent. We love each other most. The room in which we’re standing is large browns on browns; my parents are rich, not very rich, and liberals. A thin dark-haired man asks me if I want to go to a party. I want to: I rush upstairs to dress: my sister and the man, who’s a close family friend, look happy because I’m not going to kill myself. I (outside the dream) look at myself (inside the dream): I’m tall and thin, short waving black hair: I’m not beautiful until you look at me for a long time. I’m very severe. When we walk into a large grey-white house, we realize the party’s an artist party. The tall, dark, handsome artist walks over to me and asks me to dance. I wonder if he’s asking me because he wants to marry a rich girl. He tells me he’s a successful artist makes a lot of money. We dance, dance out to a dark balcony; he starts to take off my black dress as I lean over the portico. I’ve got two glasses of champagne: one in each hand. He says “I could strangle you like this” I get pissed and walk away. As I begin to walk away, I see Dan and some woman on the balcony: Dan walks over to the man I’m with. They greet each other: Dan admires the stranger’s work. I nod hello to Dan. He announces he’s getting married: introduces the woman with whom he’s going to get married. I walk away to get more champagne. As I return to the balcony, a blonde woman walks up to the group the stranger says “I didn’t know you wanted to come here.” He introduces his wife to us. I’m going crazy but withstraining myself admirably. If I don’t fuck someone soon know someone wants me. I’ll have to ride my horse for three days again: do something wilder. I can’t stop myself. I get another drink. Mel someone walks up to us says “I’m the only man here who isn’t married or about to be married” meaning I might as well fuck him because I’m so desperate. I ask him to marry me since I have a lot of money: I’ll support him. I tell him how much money I have. He says “Yes.” I tell him to go shit on himself. I’m in a lousy mood. An old friend of mine comes up to me, who I haven’t seen for a few months. I tell him I need someone’s shoulder to cry on. His new lover comes up to him: he can’t do anything. This dream’s repulsively hetero. I get a bottle of champagne and drink it. I have to ride my horse through the dark forest, the winds swirling around. I rush out of the party. As I’m descending the wide wood steps, I turn around, see the tall dark artist. He asks if he can see me again. He’s very severe. I say yes. I fall down the steps I’m so drunk. He asks me if I intend to drive myself home. I’m going to drive myself to the ocean so I can go swimming I’m rich do whatever I want he lifts me up puts me in my car drives me home I end up fucking him quickly then his wife comes I never see him again, I’m lying in my bed with my older sister who’s very “I’ll take care of you” severe type and whom I love. As we’re fucking, her boyfriend enters the room and stops us because we’re not supposed to act soooo
Last night I dreamt I was standing on a low rise of grassy ground; Dan was standing next to me facing me. He put his arms around my neck kissed me, said “I love you.” I said “I love you.” Two years later I’m riding through a forest with my four younger sisters, green and wet, leaves in our eyes and skin; we push leaves out of the way the brown horse’s neck lowered. My next-to-youngest sister tells me Dan asked her to marry him two months ago. I’m galloping wildly through the woods branches tear at my eyes flakes of my skin hanging. I try to go faster and faster. It’s night. Three days later I appear, night, the livingroom of my parents’ house: we’re moving to Boston, a bayview overlooking a black sky, where I go to college. The skin of my face is torn; bruises over my naked arms; one of my eyes is bloodshot. My family’s glad I haven’t died. My father greets me, then my older sister who’s tall, blonde, beautiful, intelligent. We love each other most. The room in which we’re standing is large browns on browns; my parents are rich, not very rich, and liberals. A thin dark-haired man asks me if I want to go to a party. I want to: I rush upstairs to dress: my sister and the man, who’s a close family friend, look happy because I’m not going to kill myself. I (outside the dream) look at myself (inside the dream): I’m tall and thin, short waving black hair: I’m not beautiful until you look at me for a long time. I’m very severe. When we walk into a large grey-white house, we realize the party’s an artist party. The tall, dark, handsome artist walks over to me and asks me to dance. I wonder if he’s asking me because he wants to marry a rich girl. He tells me he’s a successful artist makes a lot of money. We dance, dance out to a dark balcony; he starts to take off my black dress as I lean over the portico. I’ve got two glasses of champagne: one in each hand. He says “I could strangle you like this” I get pissed and walk away. As I begin to walk away, I see Dan and some woman on the balcony: Dan walks over to the man I’m with. They greet each other: Dan admires the stranger’s work. I nod hello to Dan. He announces he’s getting married: introduces the woman with whom he’s going to get married. I walk away to get more champagne. As I return to the balcony, a blonde woman walks up to the group the stranger says “I didn’t know you wanted to come here.” He introduces his wife to us. I’m going crazy but withstraining myself admirably. If I don’t fuck someone soon know someone wants me, I’ll have to ride my horse for three days again: do something wilder. I can’t stop myself. I get another drink. My sister who’s also drunk asks me to dance, she’s wearing a low grey gown; we dance in each other’s arms giggling. I lie close in her arms: I lie backwards over her left arm. We’re leaning against a grey wall under a picture: she kisses me, as she looks down on me I wonder if she now feel sexually toward me I’m excited, I ask her and she says she’d like to fuck me. I look up at her and kiss her: I want us to fuck in front of all these creepy people. Her thin dark-haired boyfriend comes over tells us we can’t act too wildly: do what we want in our bedroom. Mel someone walks up to us says “I’m the only man here who isn’t married or about to be married” meaning I might as well fuck him because I’m so desperate. I ask him to marry me since I have a lot of money: I’ll support him. I tell him how much money I have. He says “Yes.” I tell him to go shit on himself. I’m in a lousy mood. An old friend of mine comes up to me, who I haven’t seen for a few months. I tell him I need someone’s shoulder to cry on. His new lover comes up to him: he can’t do anything. This dream’s repulsively hetero. I get a bottle of champagne and drink it. I have to ride my horse through the dark forest, the winds swirling around. I rush out of the party. As I’m descending the wide wood steps, I turn around, see the tall dark artist. He asks if he can see me again. He’s very severe. I say yes. I fall down the steps I’m so drunk. He asks me if I intend to drive myself home. I’m going to drive myself to the ocean so I can go swimming I’m rich and do whatever I want he lifts me up puts me in my car drives me home I end up fucking him quickly then his wife comes I never see him again, I’m lying in my bed with my older sister who’s very “I’ll take care of you” severe type and whom I love. As we’re fucking, her boyfriend enters the room and stops us because we’re not supposed to act soooo
Last night I dreamt I was standing on a low rise of grassy ground; Dan was standing next to me facing me. He put his arms around my neck kissed me, said “I love you.” I said “I love you.” Two years later I’m riding through a forest with my four younger sisters, green and wet, leaves in our eyes and skin; we push leaves out of the way the brown horse’s neck lowered. My next-to-youngest sister tells me Dan asked her to marry him two months ago. I’m galloping wildly through the woods branches tear at my eyes flakes of my skin hanging. I try to go faster and faster. It’s night. Three days later I appear, night, the livingroom of my parents’ house: we’re moving to Boston, a bayview overlooking a black sky, where I go to college. The skin of my face is torn; bruises over my naked arms; one of my eyes is bloodshot. My family’s glad I haven’t died. My father greets me, then my older sister who’s tall, blonde, beautiful, intelligent. We love each other most. The room in which we’re standing is large browns on browns; my parents are rich, not very rich, and liberals. A thin dark-haired man asks me if I want to go to a party. I want to: I rush upstairs to dress: my sister and the man, who’s a close family friend, look happy because I’m not going to kill myself. I (outside the dream) look at myself (inside the dream): I’m tall and thin, short waving black hair: I’m not beautiful until you look at me for a long time. I’m very severe. When we walk into a large grey-white house, we realize the party’s an artist party. The tall, dark, handsome artist walks over to me and asks me to dance. I wonder if he’s asking me because he wants to marry a rich girl. He tells me he’s a successful artist makes a lot of money. We dance, dance out to a dark balcony; he starts to take off my black dress as I lean over the portico. I’ve got two glasses of champagne: one in each hand. He says “I could strangle you like this” I get pissed and walk away. As I begin to walk away, I see Dan and some woman on the balcony: Dan walks over to the man I’m with. They greet each other: Dan admires the stranger’s work. I nod hello to Dan. He announces he’s getting married: introduces the woman with whom he’s going to get married. I walk away to get more champagne. As I return to the balcony, a blonde woman walks up to the group the stranger says “I didn’t know you wanted to come here.” He introduces his wife to us. I’m going crazy but withstraining myself admirably. If I don’t fuck someone soon know someone wants me, I’ll have to ride my horse for three days again: do something wilder. I can’t stop myself. I get another drink. My sister who’s also drunk asks me to dance, she’s wearing a low grey gown; we dance in each other’s arms giggling. I lie close in her arms: I lie backwards over her left arm. We’re leaning against a grey wall under a picture: she kisses me, as she looks down on me I wonder if she now feels sexually toward me I’m excited, I ask her and she says she’d like to fuck me. I look up at her and kiss her: I want us to fuck in front of all these creepy people. Her thin dark-haired boyfriend comes over tells us we can’t act too wildly: do what we want in our bedroom. Mel someone walks up to us says “I’m the only man here who isn’t married or about to be married” meaning I might as well fuck him because I’m so desperate. I ask him to marry me since I have a lot of money: I’ll support him. I tell him how much money I have. He says “Yes.” I tell him to go shit on himself. I’m in a lousy mood. An old friend of mine comes up to me, who I haven’t seen for a few months. I tell him I need someone’s shoulder to cry on. His new lover comes up to him: he can’t do anything. This dream’s repulsively hetero. I get a bottle of champagne and drink it. I have to ride my horse through the dark forest, the winds swirling around. I rush out of the party. As I’m descending the wide wood steps, I turn around, see the tall dark artist. He asks if he can see me again. He’s very severe. I say yes. I fall down the steps I’m so drunk. He asks me if I intend to drive myself home. I’m going to drive myself to the ocean so I can go swimming I’m rich do whatever I want he lifts me up puts me in my car drives me home I end up fucking him quickly then his wife comes I never see him again, I’m lying in my bed with my older sister who’s very “I’ll take care of you” severe type and whom I love. As we’re fucking, her boyfriend enters the room and stops us because we’re not supposed to act soooo
Last night I dreamt I was standing on a low rise of grassy ground; Dan was standing next to me facing me. He put his arms around my neck kissed me, said “I love you.” I said “I love you.” Two years later I’m riding through a forest with my four younger sisters, green and wet, leaves in our eyes and skin; we push leaves out of the way the brown horse’s neck lowered. My next-to-youngest sister tells me Dan asked her to marry him two months ago. I’m galloping wildly through the woods branches tear at my eyes flakes of my skin hanging. I try to go faster and faster. It’s night. Three days later I appear, night, the livingroom of my parents’ house: we’re moving to Boston, a bayview overlooking a black sky, where I go to college. The skin of my face is torn; bruises over my naked arms; one of my eyes is bloodshot. My family’s glad I haven’t died. My father greets me, then my older sister who’s tall, blonde, beautiful, intelligent. We love each other most. The room in which we’re standing is large browns on browns; my parents are rich, not very rich, and liberals. A thin dark-haired man asks me if I want to go to a party. I want to: I rush upstairs to dress: my sister and the man, who’s a close family friend, look happy because I’m not going to kill myself. I (outside the dream) look at myself (inside the dream): I’m tall and thin, short waving black hair: I’m not beautiful until you look at me for a long time. I’m very severe. When we walk into a large grey-white house, we realize the party’s an artist party. The tall, dark, handsome artist walks over to me and asks me to dance. I wonder if he’s asking me because he wants to marry a rich girl. He tells me he’s a successful artist makes a lot of money. We dance, dance out to a dark balcony; he starts to take off my black dress as I lean over the portico. I’ve got two glasses of champagne: one in each hand. He says “I could strangle you like this” I get pissed and walk away. As I begin to walk away, I see Dan and some woman on the balcony: Dan walks over to the man I’m with. They greet each other: Dan admires the stranger’s work. I nod hello to Dan. He announces he’s getting married: introduces the woman with whom he’s going to get married. I walk away to get more champagne. As I return to the balcony, a blonde woman walks up to the group the stranger says “I didn’t know you wanted to come here.” He introduces his wife to us. I’m going crazy but withstraining myself admirably. If I don’t fuck someone soon know someone wants me, I’ll have to ride my horse for three days again: do something wilder. I can’t stop myself. I get another drink. My sister who’s also drunk asks me to dance, she’s wearing a low grey gown; we dance in each other’s arms giggling. I lie close in her arms: I lie backwards over her left arm. We’re leaning against a grey wall under a picture: she kisses me, as she looks down on me I wonder if she now feels sexually toward me I’m excited, I ask her and she says she’d like to fuck me. I look up at her and kiss her: I want us to fuck in front of all these creepy people. Her thin dark-haired boyfriend comes over tells us we can’t act too wildly: do what we want in our bedroom. Mel someone walks up to us says “I’m the only man here who isn’t married or about to be married” meaning I might as well fuck him because I’m so desperate. I ask him to marry me since I have a lot of money: I’ll support him. I tell him how much money I have. He says “Yes.” I tell him to go shit on himself. I’m in a lousy mood. An old friend of mine comes up to me, who I haven’t seen for a few months. I tell him I need someone’s shoulder to cry on. His new lover comes up to him: he can’t do anything. This dream’s repulsively hetero. I get a bottle of champagne and drink it. I have to ride my horse through the dark forest, the winds swirling around. I rush out of the party. As I’m descending the wide wood steps, I turn around, see the tall dark artist. He asks if he can see me again. He’s very severe. I say yes. I fall down the steps I’m so drunk. He asks me if I intend to drive myself home. I’m going to drive myself to the ocean so I can go swimming I’m rich do whatever I want he lifts me up puts me in my car drives me home I end up fucking him quickly then his wife comes I see him again, I’m lying in my bed with my older sister who’s very “I’ll take care of you” severe type and whom I love. As we’re fucking, her boyfriend enters the room and stops us because we’re not supposed to act soooo