Neurotisex in San Diego

***very explicit story story story…read to bottom if you dare***

“Im just not ready to face the day” he said to me as he drove his hand-me-down white Mercedes South down route 5.  The plan was to go to Balboa park, soak in some culture to alleviate my guilt for taking a no-work vacation and his guilt for being a sex-centered male.  He was on a work-laden vacation, freckled with out of town family and birthday parties of elderly grandparents.  I on the other hand had all but vowed to conduct sex-only love affairs from here on out after a nearly 2 year stint of failing at forcing normalcy into my sexual affairs.

“so just so you know, I don’t do PDA of any kind.”

“What non-annoying person does”

“I don’t know, but really Im allergic to it”

“Are we talking physical contact of any kind?  Am I going to get the horrified pull-back if I tap you on the shoulder?”  Lets get real here.  PDA is tacky and obnoxious.  I am frequently annoyed by the sight of people sucking face on public benches.  If I have to watch that sappy shit, I should be able to fuck, strip down naked, or smoke anywhere I damn well please.  However, holding hands, having your arm around someone, or running your hand down someone’s arm briefly mid conversation should not throw someone into a nervous fit.

“Maybe…yeah”  he winces, clearly playing up the effect of the neuroses, while also experiencing them as dramatically as he has inflated them.  Although desperate to avoid yet another analytical session with Peter, I determine that it is simply being viewed by others while experiencing physical contact that is the problem, and the anxiety that it produces, much like his other anxieties, is only exacerbated by even the most benign of so-called comforting human touch.  Mind you, this man works with autistic children.

So we arrive in Balboa Park, and he starts off across the parking lot and does an abrupt 180. “I cant smoke in front of children- in public at all really….Its so violent”.

Peter is one of these people who, in a desperate attempt to mitigate his own impact on the world,  has created a set of rules by which to live.  Unfortunately, these rules also apply to the lives of others and thus sometimes notably effect the people directly around him, or at least the mood. eg: littering, smoking, physical contact, spirituality, expression….

None of which may you do around Peter unless you want to have a complete basket case on your hands, or at least be the subject of derisive or mocking comments.  And none of which he believes should or can be adjusted in the overall climate of his interpersonal behaviour.

Once I finish my cigarette, we walk towards the main concentration of weekend-things-to-do in downtown San Diego, all conveniently situated within this one highly touristic faux Spanish palazzo- the way everything in Southern California is modeled on a Spanish Palazzo, but on the cheap.  He makes some muddled comment about how the man making balloon animals for a group of bratty children doesn’t hold a candle to him and how he’s going to apply for the permit that lets him come and make balloon animals for money the first Sat of every month and then they’ll see– oh they’ll see.

“go for it”

“Ugh, and he is even using a pump.Looooohooooooser”

I wanted to go to art museum- we went to the Botanical Gardens, which he insisted was the arboretum until I showed him the bronze plaque on the way out.  He seems so frazzled by the end of the 25 minute walk around the fabricated jungle that we skip the rest of what Balboa Park has to offer us and make a B-line for the car.

“I woke up so angry today-hating everyone.”

“Whoa seriously?  What happened?  Or is this typical for you?”

“I don’t know.  Im just not ready to face the day today.  Im not ready for people.”

“ok, fair enough.  Do you just want to take me home then?”

“no I mean, I want to hang out with you, Ill be fine. I just cant handle people”

“So this doesn’t include me?  Ok well we are leaving the public place.  Do you want to go to your house?”  I say, hopeful since if Im not going to do research or look at whats new in the 2nd rate art scene of San Diego I fully intend on getting laid, toot suite.

“Too many people.  Too many people, there is no such thing as being alone.  Ive looked high and low.  I just cant be around people.”

“Your bedroom?

“I can hear the other people….I don’t even think Id be able to get an erection.” Erection, I soon discovered, was a key issue for Peter.  Sex, as it turns out, surprise surprise, isn’t exactly a comforting subject, much to my chagrin.  You know, for someone I met on the internet to basically fuck for a week while I was in from out of town you’d think simple sex, or sex simply, would be par for the course.

“Ok, so lets go somewhere. where do you want to go?”

“there isn’t anywhere.  Everywhere has people.  Its unbelievable”

An overlook?


An underpass, we could park the car and have some fun


A cheap motel

I don’t have the money for a cheap motel

I do, depending on how cheap it is

You do? You would do that?

“If it will get you to calm the fuck down and have a good time.  Hells yeah.  But we need to hit a drug store for a few reasons before that. And Im going to need coffee…now”

After visiting 2 drugs stores I finally acquire all of the necessary items: rubber gloves, cigarettes, gum, and female condoms.  See Peter here is what we call well endowed- for a horse.  Can I get an Amen.  Something which, no doubt, has actually caused him more complications than deserved accolades I would imagine.  By default, Peter’s condom brand of choice is Trojan Magnum XL- the largest condom currently on the market, which he is apt to interject, especially in the US.  My first night with Peter I had my usual Plastic zebra print protective condom carrier given to me in High school by a sympathetic friend.  I learned early enough to carry a good supply and variety to suit the sexual needs….of most people.  I did not however, have a Trojan XL.  And when he produced his bare dick to me for the first time it was evident to me that I did not have the supplies to accommodate him; luckily he did.  This Trojan Magnum XL fit this man the way a regular condom would a man who needed a Trojan XL, or perhaps a Large to be on the conservative side.  After 30 minutes of sex, it seemed that efforts were useless, or so he seemed to think.  I was practically chomping at the bit, ready to throw caution to the wind and ride him bareback when he tells me

“Its late and Im tired.  Lets finish on Thursday when I see you next”

“Are you sure ‘cuz I can keep g….

“yeah.  Its late, lets sleep

On the ride home the next morning this man proceeds to tell me that he has an infection, so barebacking was out of the question but condoms are a big problem for him yadda yadda.

An infection.

Yeah, I mean its no big deal and I don’t have any symptoms of it

WHAT INFECTION”  See, I have a sexual routine.  The previous night it went something like:

‘Disclosure time: Do you have any mean nasty, creepy crawly anythings that will give me an unexpected or undesired souvenir from this little adventure?


Ok, I was tested the day before I flew out so I know Im clean.

You did?

Yeah.  When was your last sexual encounter?

New Years.

Oh ok, so that’s the last time you engaged in sexual activity.

No, its just the last time I had sex.


And how many sexual partners have you had?



So when this man sits next to me in the car AFTER having sex with me the night before and THEN I discover, not only did he have a communicable something,

“Yeah  I have this thing called molluscom contagiosum.

“Oh, ok.  That’s not so bad.  That’s not even really an STD.

“Well the most common way for adults to transmit it is through sexual contact.

‘That’s the kind of contact most adults have with one another, Peter.  Do you go rubbing people all over typically when not fucking them?

Molluscom Contagiosum is a dermatological issue.  It is most commonly found in children, and adults who take care of, have or work with children- Peter works with children, as did his former gf.  This was not so bad.

“Oh god.  Oh god  I cant believe- I should have told you… what an asshole.  Is that the sort of thing I need to disclose?

“yes, absolutely, of course

“but people don’t really know what it is…I don’t want to scare people off I mean, but I guess its my responsibility and oh god oh god.  Go home and scrub yourself clean.  Use alcohol swabs, use steel wool.

‘its ok.  Its not a big deal

“if I had told you last night would you have done anything differently, I mean would you have still had sex with me?

“Frankly, I think so… ]and it turns out I didnt get anything]

but in fact that’s when I find out that “sexual partners” he thought referred to “relationships”  so that #3 turned into something like 20 (‘uh, I mean Ive never gotten into that whole counting thing…really.”)

“oh. You should really work on your disclosure skills.  The more information you provide the better really.  You need to be prepared to deal with the reality of your choices.”

I received about 30 Im sorry text messages over the course of the next two days, frantic in his self criticism/back peddling and scrupulous searching of his body for possible symptoms of the infection

Meanwhile I also did my homework:

Molluscom Cantagiosum is a pox, in the same family as chicken pox.  It is characterized by the occurrence of painless, white bumps with a dimple in the center.  These bumps are filled with a waxy puss-like glob.  The infection is only transmitted by direct contact with the bump, or the oil from the bumps can be transferred from clothing or household objects.  Once the bumps disappear the infection is gone it does not remain dormant in the body, but you can have these bumps practically anywhere on your body for up to 4 years so you can easily re-infect yourself and others throughout that time.  Much like the chicken pox, once you have this once it is gone.  There are no side effects, there is no pain, or itching, or cancer, or nausea or trouble peeing.  There isn’t even a bad smell.  The bumps are small, non-obtrusive.  Who the hell cares.

I determined that the obvious course of action for our next sexual encounter, and yes there would be another sexual encounter, and this strategy was the female condom.  Now I hadn’t used, or attempted to use a female condom in about a decade since I first discovered them being handed out at a gay pride parade in DC.  I had never successfully been able to use one.  However since then, I have used the Nuva ring, and decided that this was simply 2 Nuva rings with a sleeve connecting them and it cant possibly be that friggin hard.

Returning to his car after collecting the needed items from 2 different drug stores, I remind him of my need for coffee while I familiarize myself with the instruction booklet included in the lovely box of female condoms.

For a box of 6 female condoms, you pay 17 some odd dollars.  For a box of 12 male condoms you typically pay 13.  I usually pay 0 for condoms because most clinics, drs offices and cities have programmes designed to make these items available to you.  Magnum XLs are often not available this way, however female condoms are.

At coffee I hand him the booklet and we continue to discuss possible locations for our entertainment.  I had insisted he ‘take me to where the prostitutes are’ in order to find cheap and possibly by-the-hour motels.  Other than interested in the information contained within the booklet, not surprising since his MO was never to actually alleviate the causes or symptoms of his own hang-ups, he suggests

“there’s a hot tub place in downtown san diego somewhere”

“that sound fantastic!  Where?”

“I don’t know.

“how did you find out about it, who told you?

“I don’t know.  I think my last gf told me about it

“call her

“Uh, I need the internet.’  I turn and look at the sign that says wireless in the coffee shop window.

“Ill try looking it up on my phone.  I don’t know what to tell google

“God damnit Ill find it”  So I call my friend Bill, in Pittsburgh, on the phone and I ask him to look up ‘San Diego hot tub by the hour’.  Within 5 minutes I give Peter the number and we have a price, a location, and are on our way.

It turns out that we were only about 6 blocks away from this place.  Nestled in between two rather run down motel-looking apartment buildings on El Cajon, past the University, is a place whose sign simply says: THE TUBS   THE TUBS   THE TUBS   THE TUBS.  Both of us begin to get so excited as we walk up to the door.  I fish out my phone to take a snapshot.

“What? Cameras, why?”

“Im not taking a picture of you, jesus, settle down

“Well its ok as long as you don’t name, tag or otherwise dime me out on the internet

“Seriously, whats your problem?

“I might want to run for public office someday

“Hanging out with me basically eliminates your chances of that ever happening I hate to break it to ya.

“Why is that

“Dude, we are about to go into a pay by the hour hot tub place.  And this is just a sat afternoon.  Whatever just trust me on this one”  Im a porn acting, fetish educating, loud mouth public erotic personality, and he knows it.

Inside this place it looks like the set of some bad gay sailor porno.  Palm trees painted on chipping plaster walls, ropes hanging from the ceiling in nauticaloid displays.  The furniture is/used to be white, and there are all kinds of wheels and plaques and fake plants and things tucked in walls, corners, hanging from the ceiling.  Everywhere you look there is this cabana motif, as though you weren’t already in southern California, made only the more hilarious because you are.  A middle-aged woman, with short white/blonde hair, no bra and sagging tits under an oversized men’s shirt waddles to the front of the place.

“Its going to be a little while, that is if you are the folks who just called

“how long is a little while”  I ask, both peter and I clutching for our cellphones.  See an hour is perfect for the both of us, bc we are both expected to be at our respective family homes for dinner in just about 2 hours.

“5-10 minutes. I have to fill the tub up again

Relieved to hear words that indicate the proper drainage of a hot tub in frequent hourly public use, we nod and take our seat on the couch.  The woman shoves a whisk at us, the kind you make mashed potatoes fluffy with, with a key on the end of it and points to the his and hers bathrooms

“in case you have to go”

I turn to Peter “does this mean there are no bathrooms in the rooms?  Seriously?  Whats going on here, this is so weird.  I am so excited!  I am so proud of us for doing this.  Look around you, its fucking sweet”

And that’s when I notice the stacks of STD informational booklets on the table across the room.  This KILLS me.  I start a giggle fit right in the lobby.  I walk over to the table and there are 3 different stacks, one about AIDS, one about STDs, and one about diabetes oddly enough.  They are the kinds of booklets displayed in such a way conjuring up college health services offices or planned parenthood.

“Now this a good sign” I chuckle and settle back into the used-to-be-white- circa 1978-couch.  I search for signs of enthusiasm from Peter, which I barely find.  He’s somewhere on the edge of ‘should I be nervous, should I be excited”  but as the time ticks by he gets visibly excited.

The woman returns and leads us down an even gaudier hallway on the set of Thar He Blows, to room #8.  She then hands us a key attached to a large rubber #8.  She then commences to give us the tour.  To our left is a spa style locker built in to a day bed apprx waist high and covered in a black and white zebra print waterproofish sheet.  In the far corner is a round, self lit, medium clean hot tub that more resembles a small swimming pool than a Jacuzzi.  To the right of the Jacuzzi an elaborate wood enclosed mutli shelf sauna, and next to it a shower that is open to the entire room, and is directly next to the door and across from the bed.  The entire room is tiled.  The room comes with dimmer switches for the overhead and tub lights, 2 towels, one small trashcan, and an ashtray-apparently much to their credit, this is the one place in California where you can smoke indoors.  There are signs everywhere indicating that there will be extra charges if: you need to be cleaned up after, or you go over your time, or you lose your key, or you need extra towels….

We begin to take our clothes off and humorously, yet awkwardly look at one another expectantly.  This is that odd moment where, you know sex is going to happen, its kind of the point. But you have already had sex, so there isn’t that animalistic first time compulsion thing happening.

He laughs “Arent you going to seduce me?”

I laugh and raise my arms above my head indicating that he should take my shirt off.  I reach over to the wall “its too bright in here, I feel like Im in a locker room.  I need sexy time lighting” and with a chuckle I lower the lighting to ambient.  He turns it back up, I turn it back down. He turns it back up and I leave it be.

“So how should we do this, we have so many options”

The woman instructed us to take a shower before getting in the hot tub so we figured that that would be the best place to start.  I reach over to the newly acquired box of female condoms to pre-stage the prophylactic, and he tears me away from my task and pulls me into the water with him.  His enormous cock has been hard since the woman shut the door behind her, and now the water is flowing, the room is warming up and we can both feel the tension melt away.

Under the water I ask him if this is what he needed, if this was alone enough for him, if he was loosening up.  He said he was, that this was great and we both sort of melted into one another.  I manage to break away long enough, re-grab the female condom and position myself prone, ass in the air, knees apart on the edge of the bed.  I grab his attention so he can see what appeared to be me fingering myself for his visual pleasure, but was in fact me putting the femidom in place.  Once situated, I slink off of the bed and back up onto him.  Peter is 6’4″, so he stands considerably taller than me- and now Im barefoot.  I hop up on tippy toes, and curl my right leg backwards, around his body, opening up my legs in ballet pose.  Balancing on the ball of my left foot, he grabs my left tit and my right thigh and rubs me up and down him with the water beating its way down his neck and onto my face as I look up, backwards at him.  Clutching at the female condom as the outer ring tries to follow his hard cock into the slippery lining of my cunt, I curse at the thing and its design and remember why I had never been able to use them before.

Grabbing him firmly with my upbent leg, we thrust our way over to the zebra stripes and I bury my head into the now-wet fabric of the semi-waterproof semi-plastic sheet. With each plunge he taps full force on my cervix for the first time in a few years, as I struggle not to slide on the wet tiles, struggle not to shriek and disturb the neighbours, and struggle to keep hold of the femidom.  Lifting my knees up onto the bed one at a time, I manage to flip myself over, around the world style, and see his wet faced smile peering back down at me.

See Peter, sex fixes everything.  Admitting this is the first step to recovering from neurosis addiction.

Taking a moment to adjust positions so he can join me on the bed, I feared that his withdrawal would cause the femidom to turn inside out.

“hahah look at that!”

We both look at his penis, which has, perfectly fitted around it the femidom, as though it were a custom-made condom just for his dick.

“I think we found the solution to your dilemma dear.” I say quite pleased by my continued ability to overcome any and all sexual obstacle in my path.  “how does it feel”

“This is great, yeah. Think I should start carrying these things?”

“Absolutely.  They were made for you” The weird thing about these condoms is that the ring in the bottom, ie the ring that you use to insert the thing into your vagina, is loose.  So not only does it flop around when you are trying to insert the thing, but now, it was sort of folded over in the sleeve, on one side of his dick.

“That cannot be comfortable for you” I say, adjusting the ring so it acts more like a cock ring than a texturizer.

After 20 minutes, I climb on top of him and start riding him.  His dick is so wide that even little motions of my hips flip that little trigger inside me.

“Hold on to me, hold me down” and I grind him hard with my new hood piercing rubbing against both the base of his cock and the top ring around the base of his penis.  I cum, little O 1 and 2, and continue riding him, folding myself backwards on my knees so that my back is flat against the tops of his legs.  I can feel the outline of the head of his dick rub against my pubic bone everytime I slide back and forth.  He grabs my folded knees and pushes me up and down his cock.

“sex is supposed to be wet” he says in a rhetorically questioning tone “don’t you think, isn’t this great” and he rolls his fingers up and down my legs, my stomach and reaches for my tits, causing me to come back up into traditional cowgirl.  He then grabs me by the backs of my thighs, cradling my ass in his hands and gets to his knees- before I know it he has me in missionary position and he is grinding full force against the steel barbell on my clit.  With each thrust he pushes clear through to the back of me, and I claw at the back of his neck, his shoulders and down his back with my freshly painted magenta fingernails.

He bites my nipple, I nibble his earlobe, and he slows down periodically saying

“Im almost at the brink” or ‘I gotta hold back”

“you can come if you want to baby”

‘I don’t want to, not yet”

And we slide around on this sheet, which has now half come off the mattress, and we slide the mattress so it looks like an earthquake has caused it to rise up on the side nearest the door.  He is just barely too short for the “bed” frame, but up on his hands he thrusts into me as I alternate from my ankles on his shoulders, to knees on his chest, to both of my feet to the side.  All of me is so wet, but I can feel how slippery his dick feels in my cunt.  Female condoms are thinner, and their lubricant seems to be less thick and more effective.  Win win.

Finally he leans in and says “Ok Im gunna blow.  I think Im actually going to cum this time”

“Ooh yeah cum for me baby” and he pulls out and cums all over my chest.

Not really expecting it to be all over me, but cheerfully hopping up to the shower which we left on, I ask

“Why didn’t you just cum?

‘Oh yeah, I forgot, I guess I could have taken advantage of that huh?” and I chuckle, giddy in the afterglow of really great sleazy afternoon delight.

~ by Klawdya Rothschild on November 18, 2008.

5 Responses to “Neurotisex in San Diego”

  1. I like P Ds of A. I skimmed. Should I read more?

  2. That guy sounds like a hot mess. Love the tags.

  3. There’s a number of ways to look at this story.

  4. Im all ears

  5. Let me write some brainstorming key words first:

    travel, tourist, friends, fuck-buddy, city, walk, park, people, children, feelings, development, environment, senses, sensations, pleasure, identity, physicality, qualities, size, imagination, satisfaction, work.

    I guess the thing that came to me last in my mini-brain storming session there will be the starting point for what I write here about how I am approaching this story and relating to it.

    Slipping in and out of the work…the effort necessary for pleasure and satisfaction. I believe in science that is called activation energy. What needs to be put into a situation or chemical equation so that the desired result can be attained…arrived at?

    So we see these two people. The narrator is in touch with herself moreso than the male character. That is to say, she’s talling the story, so we get more insight as to how her mind is working throughout this whole unfolding of events.

    The guy might be in touch with himself, but maybe in a different kind of way.

    He seems to have to get a lot of blood into his giant cock maybe and so he has to do this sort of transformation ritual to get there. The woman / female / girl character seems to help him get somewhere and he gets her somewhere.

    They come! They’ve reached their seperate destinations together. The story ends and their situation fades from the reader’s mind. She’s probably going to go back to her place where-ever that is, but we don’t really know if they spend the rest of the day together. Maybe part of her will stay there with the guy.

    If she’s failed at normalcy in relationships, does she even want to remain open to that sort of idea?

    OK…I am starting to analyze here when I should be getting back to my day job.

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