Fucking Whore Society
Today, prostitution, stripping
and pornography play key
roles in the struggle for sexual
expression and artistic freedom.
Jean Genet, hustler, heretic, and author,
wrote: “She was happy, and perfectly in
line with the tradition of those women
they used to call ruined.
Or fallen, feckless, bitches on heat,
ravished dolls, sweet sluts, instant
princesses, hot numbers, great lays,
succulent morsels, fucking whores.”
Marlon Brando’s character said it most succinctly
in the 1953 film The Wild One. When asked what he
was rebelling against, he replied, “Whaddya got?”
Three years later, Jean Genet’s play
The Balcony would make the cop-hating
character of Johnny seem an adolescent punk.
Choose a target, and chances are Genet either
mocked or condemned it: religion, the military,
the legal system, revolutionaries, counter-
revolutionaries, rich people, poor people, reason, emotion.
The Balcony is one of the most mind-fucking plays
to ever ejaculate from a brilliant and profane, mind.
Now Guido is done being patient. He yanks my panties down
in a savage jerk that leaves a gash of his dirty nail on
one of my thighs. I scream in pain, and that scream
becomes a long moan of passion as he thrusts his cock
in me without bothering to check if I am ready.
His hands again pin my hands over my head and he grips
my legs in his own strong ones. I am almost pinned to
the bed in this position, and as Guido thrusts at a frantic
pace, all that I can do is to let out long moans,and thrust
my hips at him. His mouth is hungry, it’s everywhere.
It is sucking at my neck, it is giving a love bite on
my breasts. He even kisses my armpits and that just
sends me over the edge.
I am begging for him to let go of my hands. He does
not understand or cares, and keeps banging away.
Girls, did your man like flip you midway through sex lately?
Guido does exactly that. He makes me sit on my hands and knees,
facing away from him. Then without any warning or provocation,
he slaps my rump hard.
Oh I am fucking him exactly like he wants and he is still
hitting me? And why am I getting so turned on by that?
When he enters me from behind, my scream is loud enough
to be heard across the street. He grabs my breasts through
my armpits and hammers away again. The bed is creaking the
way it has not creaked in, oh, last ten years or so.
Guido takes maddeningly long time to cum and the moment
is again preceded by a couple of light slaps on my rump.
It is some kind of thing with him, it seems. The brute
keeps me pinned beneath him while murmuring unintelligibly.