Broken

Pic by Matthew Stone

I’m all for weird sex. If you ask me, sex is license to do, be and say everything you won’t or can’t or are too afraid to in the real world. Biting, hitting, swearing, pretending to be a deaf mute, spitting, growling, pain, pleasure, piss, violence… whatever, I’m game. And to be honest, I’m not overly “into” that much myself, so I’m pretty keen to just adapt to the sexual preferences and perversions of whoever I’m with at that moment. Sort of like a sexual chameleon, if you will. For whatever reason, a lot of the guys I’ve been with have wanted to hit me (‘fist kisses,’ as I like to call them). But it wasn’t until last night—a night of many firsts—that making love left me with a broken nose. Fucker.

I had sex with Taylor. To refresh your memory, Taylor is the guy I met online after he responded to my ‘Searching For Freak Lovers’ ad on Gumtree.com. Taylor has cerebral palsy, so ever since we first met I’ve been curious as to how sex would go. Would it be awkward? Would his spastic movements make fucking difficult? Scary? Exciting and futuristic? I needed to know.

So last night, after a few drinks, I brought Taylor back to my house. The sex started off really good. Naked, Taylor looks like a skeleton dipped in wax, which is basically my idea of perfection, so I was way turned on. I even managed to make it through the first, like, five minutes of sex without thinking about my ex-boyfriend—a feat I’ve found basically impossible to overcome since we broke up six months ago—so I was pretty impressed with myself.

As sex went on Taylor began to hit me with his arms and hands. Not sexy, “I’m going to slap you, you slut” sort of hitting. This was more ‘I can’t control my body and I keep accidentally whacking you in the face with my elbow’ sort of hitting. I didn’t mind, though. Like I said, weird is good. But then, right when he was about to come Taylor brought his face really close to mine, but instead of kissing me as I expected, he twitched and head-butted me directly in the nose. Fuck. My face began bleeding profusely and I started screaming. Taylor, who was coming by this point, then began screaming as well—a strange, terrifying howl of both pure ecstasy and complete terror. The combined screaming lasted for a few seconds before Taylor regained composure, stared down at my face which was drenched in blood and tears, and casually muttered, “Woops.”

So yeah, the whole situation was pretty awkward. Not to mention my nose, I’m almost positive, is now broken, as whenever I wiggle it it makes this weird cracking noise and I have two hideous black eyes. But I’m determined not to let this discourage me. After all, it was an accident. I’ll think of my broken nose as a battle wound. I’ll regard my black eyes as two giant hickies, only instead of on my neck they’re in the middle of my face. And, most importantly, I’ll use this as grounds for demanding lots of sexual favors in the future.