Blowup Date

JUMP CUT -- he's on top of me on the couch, my left breast is out of my dress and he is going at it like a pie eating contest. "Oh god, you have the most incredible breasts." "Well, I guess you're not gay!" I joke. Now he is literally trying to vacuum my tongue out with his mouth. I regain consciousness, "You'd better go," tucking my left tit back into my bra, "I really don't want to be doing this." "I'm sorry, I can't help it, you're just so sexy." SILENCE. "Listen," he says "I'm too drunk to go home now, could I crash out here? I promise, I won't touch you again I promise." "Fine."
JUMP CUT -- I'm flat on my bed, legs hanging over the side, he's mauling me, forcing my hand to stroke his penis over and over again as I keep pulling away. I turn him over and land on my feet. "Listen, if you want to fuck me, then just fuck me, but use a condom." He's shocked, "I don't have one." "I do," I say as I open my underwear drawer, rip off a Trojan, throw it at him, pull off my boots, scootch down my stockings, rip off my dress and tear off my bra. "Now put that on and fuck me already." "My god Ellen, you have such a gorgeous body." Well maybe it won't be that bad I think. He takes off his clothes and it is that bad. He's not even hard, he's too drunk, or gay. "Touch me," he coos, "make me hard." "Why don't you masturbate yourself, it'll be faster." He obeys. "Now put the condom on," I demand. "I can't use these," he moans. "What's the matter, you're too big?" "You know," he sneers, "you've really gotta get over that whole condom thing." "Oh really, and what about protection?" "Get on the pill." "Must be another generational thing, the pill doesn't protect me from sexually transmitted diseases, and besides, I wouldn't even give a blow job without a condom, not today, not in this city." "Well," he boasts, "I don't have any diseases." "Well how do you know I don't?" SILENCE. Finally I break it, "I think we should just go to sleep, we're too drunk." I put on underwear and pajamas, climb in bed, scootch all the way over till I'm balancing on the edge. I don't even want to feel his heat. I try to go to sleep.
JUMP CUT-- He is spooned up against me, his tongue is in my ear, his hand is down my pants, and he is fingering me. I'm dry, I don't move, maybe I am dreaming. It begins to feel good, really good and I start getting wetter and wetter. I let my legs fall open a bit and desiring to come, let out a tiny moan. Then a loud echo in my ear full with spit mist says, "I bet you're a dirty little girl, I bet you like it really, really dirty," and he forces my hand to press his soft cock. "That's it!" I pop up, "Get out of my bed, you have to go home!" "You want me to go home now?! he whimpers, "it's prime mugging hour." "Then leave me the fuck alone and go to sleep." "Okay, I will, I promise, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Of course I couldn't sleep until he was asleep and he seemed to be having trouble. "Why don't you just make yourself come, you can use my bathtub." I can't believe I'm saying this. "No, no, I'll be all right." And with that we both pass out. In the morning as he is tying his shoe laces he says, "I had a really good time. I guess I'll end up in one of your solo shows, ha, ha, ha." "Yes, you probably will, but I wouldn't be too flattered by that."
JUMP CUT -- A month later, another Saturday night. I'm at an outdoor cafe in NYC's West Village eating hamburgers with a friend. For some reason I turn my head, and walking down the street I see Tom with a very vulnerable looking woman -- slouched shoulders, glasses, a kind of duck walk. I grab my friend's hand, "Oh my god, oh my god, that's him, that's the gay rapist. "Hey Tom!" yelling in my best actor's voice. "You remember me, right? I'm the one you tried to date rape a few weeks ago, remember?" He pretended not to know me. "I want to thank you 'cause I got great material out of the whole experience. I tell everyone in my new show about you and I've written a story that will be published on the Internet. The whole world will know! And Tom, try and be nice to your date tonight, think of it as a new opportunity." He stood there, eyes bulging, muttering to his date, "She's a real sick bitch, she really needs help, she's gonna be fucking sorry if she puts anything on the Net about me, she's gonna blah, blah, blah," as he walks away. "Uggggh," my friend squeals, he had a big bald spot on the back of his head." "Yeah, plus his back is really hairy and so is his ass." Eeeeewwwww! We shriek and eat our meat.

Ellen Hulkower sexploits herself and performs one woman shows in NYC and around the world.