A Pornceptual Short story

What rhymes with porn

by Nel Winter

There’s a place downtown
Where the freaks all come around
It’s a hole in the wall,
It’s a dirty free for all 

There’s a place I know
If you’re looking for a show
Where they go hardcore
And there’s glitter on the floor 

Kesha, “Take It Off”

“Bro?”

“Sup?” 

Classic conversation. 

“You got plans tomorrow?” Colin asks me. 

“You tell me, I guess,” I shrug and continue scrolling through the Fender website. It’s been a while since I last bought a guitar… 

“Yeah, there’s the Pornceptual party?” he says. 

I nod without looking up from my phone. “Sure. Cool.”  

Now, if you’re one to flinch at the word “porn”, you better stop reading now. It’s okay, no judgment. I used to be like that, too. What happened, you might want to ask?  

Well… Berlin happened.  

And my career in music.  

My name is Neo and I’m a musician. Surprise. Fucking original, isn’t it? 

I moved to Berlin nine months ago. Apparently that’s what you do if you want to be a rock star, because “if you don’t make it here, you won’t make it anywhere”. Hey – that’s what they said.  

Turns out, they were right. 

Trading my perfect suburban white picket fence family life for fornication, consciousness-altering substances, and a popular music genre traditionally centered on the amplified electric guitar – or, as some of you might know it, “sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll” – wasn’t all easy peasy lemon squeezy, but undoubtedly the best decision I could’ve made.  

I mean, I get to write and play songs for a living, and fuck a couple of girls and do a couple of drugs on the side. The former I’m really proud of, and the latter… I’m 21, for fuck’s sake. Give me a break. 

Colin played bass at a couple of my shows back in my earlier days, and that’s how we met. That was before he fucked my PR agent. Also known as Cathy’s boyfriend. He’s bisexual and taking advantage of it any chance he gets. Colin, that is. Turns out, so was Cathy’s now ex, only she didn’t know… Until she did. 

What can I say? Keeping secrets is a deal breaker.  Either way, I still got a friend out of it. A friend with some proper connections.

 And so we end up going to Pornceptual.

“You are going to love it!”, Colin exclaims, stressing every single word like he’s an English teacher or some shit. 

Granted, this is my first Pornceptual. I still smirk, because if over the course of the night I get to maneuver my dick into a pretty girl’s mouth – and let’s be honest, chances are I do – then yeah, I probably am going to love it. I’ve been feeling a little wound up lately, with no one to fulfil my fantasy of getting a blowjob in the studio (yet), so I like to think I deserve this. 

I look at my friend. Colin looks sick. I mean, not actually sick, just really cool. He always does that. During the day, he would look like the lovechild of early Avril Lavigne and Kurt Cobain, but he has the inexplicable talent of morphing into some crazy leprechaun or other tripping fairytale creature whenever there’s a party to attend.  

I’m talking full-on makeup, pink dyed hair, plateau boots and silver leggings. I don’t know how he does it, man. It’s beyond me. Fucking Elton John would be jealous if he saw this.  

I just took a dump and a shower – in that order, ‘cause I was raised well and I love my mom. 

“Man, dressing up’s really not your thing, huh?” Colin grins as he looks me up and down while we walk towards the club. 

The motto of tonight’s party is “What Rhymes With Porn” – and fucking hell, I’m a songwriter. I pretty much rhyme for a fucking living. That should give you a rough idea of how many terms popped up in my preoccupied brain. 

Porn, thorn, horn. My parents had popcorn on the day that I was born. 

Yeah, that’s all cool and shit, but then again, I’m a songwriter, not a goddamn fashion designer. And how does one dress up as the fucking Battle of Little Bighorn, anyway? Not that that would even be a goer. Cultural appropriation and shit – hot topic here in Berlin. Don’t ever think about dressing up as a Native American around here. 

I wave my ripped shirt sleeves at Colin. 

“Newsflash, I’m torn!” I state fake-offended. “I tore this shirt with my barehands!” 

Fake news. I used scissors. 

“And anyway, what are you?” I ask him. “A unicorn?” 

“Yeesh,” Colin nods and smiles proudly, “the last unicorn!” 

That wasn’t exactly hard to guess. 

“Bro, I hate to break it to you… but once you get in, you might find out that – against popular beliefs – your species isn’t exactly on the brink of extinction after all,” I joke and grin. 

Colin smacks my shoulder then goes to greet a group of three men and a woman at the entrance. He introduces me and I shoot him a triumphant look while shaking hands, because one of the guys is wearing a strap-on rainbow horn on his forehead.  

“Don’t be a dick,” Colin laughs as we go inside, “get yours sucked instead!”  

 An hour or two later, I am. Getting my dick sucked, that is.  

I’ve already had two strong enough drinks and a joint that got me in the zone. I lost Colin to a guy and a girl, who were interested to have me join in their sex game as well… And I have to admit, I actually thought about it for a second or two for the sole reason of the girl’s looks. She looked a bit like Kaia – enough to potentially get me off rather swiftly, anyway.  

Kaia is my hot neighbor. She’s nice, cool, clever, and I genuinely like her. Therefore, she’s entirely off limits. Makes sense, no? But then again, like I said, she’s really hot. What can I say? I’m only just a guy.  

So, back to the threesome: Fuck, no. I don’t appreciate strange naked dicks, limp or erect, in too close vicinity to my own. And while I’m completely cool with anyone who does – it’s just not for me. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Plus, I definitely wouldn’t want to share anyone who bore even just a slight resemblance to Kaia. I’d rather fight them than fuck them. So I politely declined and went strolling the place rather blue-balled. 

By the time I met Lana, who is currently kneeling in front of me with a mouthful of cock, I was feeling needy as fuck. And then this Russian girl came along, her long black hair swaying to the music and shit. 

It was like she’d fallen from the sky just for me. A revelation. Just by the way her red lips moved when she introduced herself I knew she could get me off in no time. Her accent alone got me half hard. She must’ve read my needs like I was an open book, because she grabbed my hand, led me to the darkest corner of the floor, and got on her knees. What is this life?I mean, come on. 

“Fuck,” I breathe and feel sweat building on my forehead as Lana alternates between twirling her tongue around my tip, light as a feather, and nearly swallowing the goddamn thing whole. 

Her hands grip the base and squeeze gently while she bobs her head up and down to the loud beat. I groan and feel my whole body pulsating. Her mouth is so warm and wet and mother shit, she’s enjoying this. When she groans around my length, it sends vibrations through me like no amp in the world could. 

I throw my head back, grind my teeth, and clench my fists around her hair. She looks up with hollowed cheeks, bats her eyelashes at me, and my stomach lurches. If I could get any harder, I would right now. 

“Shit, goddamn,” I curse and try so desperately to hold on a little longer. 

I feel her tongue curling and lapping, swirling and flicking, as pleasure overtakes my senses. My hips buck and I can’t hold back from thrusting into her mouth. She moans, but takes it with grace, making me moan too in response. 

Then she picks up the pace, going all the way up and down my dick in a steady rhythm. I groan and let go of her hair to grip the wall behind me. That’s it. I’m done for. All the heat in the world starts creeping up my abdomen. I’m sweating, and so close… Let the fucking world end now, I don’t fucking care. 

“F-fuck,” I pant, “I’m close. I’m gonna come.” 

That was a fair warning, but Lana keeps going. If anything, she goes even faster, sucks in her cheeks even harder. Holy fuck,I’m completely engulfed in her warmth. The room starts spinning around us. I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m hot and throbbing. Shit. This is it. 

“Lana,” I groan, my voice breaking. “I’m gonna come.” 

Blindly, I try to grab at her face, but to no avail. Whatever. Bitch asked for it.  

With my orgasm washing over me, I come straight in her mouth.  

Fucking hell. Heaven. Now this was a high that takes some time to get down from. I wipe my hands over my clam my face, my chest heaving with deep breaths. For a moment there, I’ve been seeing stars.  

I look down at the girl responsible. She wipes her mouth, grins, and says something in Russian. Jesus fucking Christ, she swallowed my entire load. It’s hotter than anything else in the world.  

I’m still breathing heavily and can’t seem to form a coherent thought or sentence. So I reach for Lana’s hands and pull her up from the floor, right along with my pants. She smiles at me and I want to smile back, only to realize I was already grinning like a fucking Care Bear. Wow, way to do growing up, Neo. 

I lean in to kiss her – but instead of her lips I find her finger on my lips. 

“No kissing,” she says with her delicious heavy accent. 

What? This girl just sucked me to kingdom come and doesn’t even want a thank you kiss? 

My eyebrows shoot up, but before I can think of anything to say, she pats my chest, winks, and then she’s gone. 

Just before the crowd swallows her, I catch her readjusting her hairband with a plastic horn attached to it. I snort and shake my head. Fucking unicorns are real after all. I look around, trying to wipe the post-orgasmic grin off my face, but not quite succeeding. My heartbeat is still off, but slowly I start to realize there’s still a world happening around her and me. My senses kick in again, I start hearing the loud music, feeling the beat reverberating in my bones, and smelling the lingering scent of sex, sweat and smoke. 

Suddenly, someone hits me from the side like it’s the fucking Super Bowl.  

“Bro!” Colin hollers and fist-bumps my shoulder like a maniac. “Welcome to the party!” 

I freeze. “Bro. Were you watching?”  

He cringes and shakes like a wet dog. “No, you fucking twat. You have Blowjob Nirvana written all over your fucking face, is all.” 

“Shut up, idiot,” I mumble yet instinctively reach for my button and zipper to check if it’s all where it’s supposed to be. 

Colin grins from ear to ear.  “It’s all good. I know Lana a bit myself.” 

To be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about that. Maybe – no maybe, I should definitely stop thinking about it. I should stop thinking altogether. At least for the night. 

“I fucking need a drink,” I declare and make my way towards the bar, Colin in tow.   

Okay, holy fuck. It took me four drinks, two joints, and one blowjob to fucking start seeing shit, but at least I got there. 

By shit I mean this party. The stuff that goes on around here. Around me.  

Does anyone else remember that one Kesha song about “a place where they go hardcore and there’s glitter on the floor”? Yeah,I’m pretty sure she meant this party.  

Granted, no one parties quite like Berlin, but goddamn… Pornceptual really takes partying to a whole new galaxy. FYI, there really is glitter on the floor here. Among other things. 

“Cheers, man!” Colin shouts and slams his water bottle against my now-empty beer. 

His pupils are dilated from the Molly he’s being offered constantly and hardly ever has the heart to refuse. He looks like the cat from the one meme that says “No, I haven’t seen your LSD. But have you seen the fucking DRAGON in the kitchen?” and from time to time, that makes me laugh. At least he had the brains to trade alcohol for water at some point.  

“Cheers,” I laugh and shake my head in disbelief at what’s happening here. Although my vision hasn’t been quite clear for a while now, I feel like I’ve never seen more straight. Does that make sense? Eh… Not sure.

What I’m trying to say, I guess, is: This is one hell of a party. It’s one of the most fun, authentic, and consensual events I’ve ever attended in my life. Even though there’s plenty of sex, drugs, and alcohol happening, there’s no abuse. Everything feels safe and consensual, because it is consensual. 

They have a strict policy here: Ask but don’t touch. Now think of your regular dance club – they don’t have that shit there. Or if they do, then it doesn’t fucking work, anyway. Think of all the girls and guys who get groped against their will at parties, or even just on the street. What the fuck? 

Clubs should be a safe space for people to let loose, no matter their skin color, religion, or sexuality. Just like here.

But then again, it’s twenty-fucking-nineteen and people still need parties like this to escape their everyday lives, because some dumbass members of our so arrogantly heteronormative society don’t deem them fit? That’s fucking unfathomable to me, and the more I think about it, the more it breaks my artist’s heart. I can feel my pulse quicken, my veins protrude, and my muscles tense with anger. Fuck me, I can get really riled up about this kind of stuff. 

I take a moment to breathe, ground myself, feel the music, and observe the crowd. Focus on the good stuff. I love people watching – I’m an artist through and through, where do you think my daily inspiration comes from? And goddamn, is this party isn’t fucking inspiring.

See, the people around here have stories. They’ve all longed, loved and lost. Some got over it, some never will, and some came here to try. And honestly? Berlin is a pretty fucking good starting point. We’re all just trying to be happy, aren’t we? Even if it’s just momentary happiness – whether it be induced by drugs, or casual sex, or even just a track the DJ chose to play: for some, this one party brings more happiness and acceptance than they can look back on throughout their entire life, so leave them the fuck be.

Some are happier than others. With some, you can tell by the way their smile doesn’t quite reach their eyes. Some are so vigorously trying to dance their past away, no one dares get close. Some have one foot in the darkness and the other in a Hello Kitty roller skate.  

But others you can tell have finally found a place to belong. And they’re happy. It’s not even that they’ll tell you –believe me, people who impose their happiness on you are never truly happy. It’s in the way they carry themselves. Whether they’re straight, gay, bi, undecided, chose to stick their finger up some asshole (literally and figuratively) or their head in a horse mask. True fucking story. But I mean – love itself is so rare, why narrow it down even more? 

I myself have come a long way these past nine months, I realize. What I’ve learned about myself and others, about genders, sexual identities, and pronouns, our school system simply didn’t think was worth mentioning. Had anyone told me a year ago they were “pansexual”, I probably would’ve thought they were getting themselves off on nasty thoughts about fucking Peter Pan or some shit. Now? Whole different story, man.

I take another look around. In one corner of the dance floor, I see two topless women making out. Next to them, a girl hasher hands deep down the back of a guy’s spandex, which he seems to enjoy very much. I get a little flustered and try to look away, because I’m no voyeur, but the next thing I see are three men in leather uniforms, dancing and grinding on each other.

Yup, this party makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the weed, too. I don’t really care. I have no façade to maintain around here. I’ve also lost all track of time. If anyone’s looking for me, I’ll just be here, floating somewhere between nihilism, hedonism, and optimism. 

I raise the beer bottle to my lips, only to find it empty. Fuck, I forgot I’d already downed it all. I chuckle at my own dumbness. 

“What’s so funny?” Colin yell-asks and leans on my shoulder for support. 

“Nothing,” I reply, “just life!” 

“Yeesh,” he nods to the rhythm of the music, “life is fucking hilarious.”

I smile. That it is.

Pretty sure I’ll write a song about it sometime. 

“I’m a grab another beer, want anything?” I ask Colin.

He shoves his empty water bottle in my hand in response.

“Water,” he nods. “Water is life!”

“Yup,” I agree and make my way to the bar.

By the time I get back, Colin has dropped his pants. Like, literally. I blink, head fuzzy with disbelief at the scene unfolding before my eyes. The couple from earlier this night is back.

The guy and his Kaia-lookalike girlfriend, or wife, or whatever – but mother shit, are they back.

I see the girl kneeling on the ground, wearing only a plaid mini-skirt and high heels with white socks, while she simultaneously jerks both her boyfriend and Colin off, taking turns sucking their dicks as well.

“For Christ’s sake,” I exclaim.

When did that happen? How? The fucking bar is like 10 meters away. I was gone for maybe three minutes.

Somehow, I can’t take my gaze off them. They haven’t noticed me watching yet, and there’s something, I don’t fucking know, fascinating about the ease they all have with one another. Am I a pervert for thinking that? Am I a creep? My heart rate shoots up. Jesus Christ, I am, aren’t I?

Meanwhile, Colin and the guy start kissing over the girl’s head, touching their arms, faces, hair, and shit.

Erm, that escalated quickly.

I still just stand there like the motherfucking rookie I am, with my beer in one hand, Colin’s water in the other, and a growing bulge in my pants.

Alcohol, I need it. Quickly, I chug down half of my beer, followed by half of Colin’s water. The motherfucker does this tome, it’s his own fault. The cool liquid distracts me from how the temperature around me seems to have shot up a few degrees within the past minutes. I’m sweating either way. Thank God, there’s a pillar two steps to my right, which I now lean against.

By the time I direct my attention back to Colin’s threesome, the guy has pulled his girlfriend to her feet. He’s now squeezing and kneading her boobs, and kissing her fiercely. She’s still sandwiched between the two guys, stroking her man’s cock, while Colin starts feeling up her ass from behind. He flips her skirt up for better access. Subconsciously, I hold my breath.

Fucking hell. She’s gone commando underneath – of course she has. There’s no holding back. I feel the bass thrum in my whole body, and the blood rushing through my veins and right to my dick, my pulse racing. This shit is gonna be the end of me.

I keep watching while Colin starts fingering the girl. She breaks free from the kiss, arches her back and opens her mouth to moan. At least I think she’s moaning, the music is too loud for me to actually hear, but my imagination is running wild, and her face, contorted with pleasure, is just too fucking sweet. It makes me think of Kaia, whether I want it or not (but in fact, I really do), and my dick approves.

While the girl visibly enjoys Colin’s treatment, she doesn’t once let go of her boyfriend’s hard cock. He grabs her face and neck in pleasure, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face first then seamlessly transitioning into choking her. She wants to throw her head back, but he keeps it in place with a firm grip. The eye contact they’re keeping is out-of-this-world hot. I can tell they’ve done this before.

The guy makes his girl look at him while Colin whips out a condom, puts it on, and guides himself into her.

Shit. I can’t believe I’m watching my friend have sex – and am getting turned on by it myself. It’s something entirely different than seeing random strangers on the Internet performing the goddamn Kama Sutra. I down the rest of my beer and put both bottles aside.  

Colin bends the girl over. She comes face to face, or, well, face to dick with her boyfriend’s hard-on and doesn’t hesitate before taking it in her mouth. Heat and animalistic passion radiates off the three of them, and I can’t, I can’t but reach down into my pants, close to panting myself.

I’m quite hard already. Stroking my own dick, I keep watching, my breathing heavy with lust. While Colin thrusts into the girl, she deep-throats her guy, gripping his ass and thighs for support. I focus on her. She’s gorgeous, cheeks flushed, hair sweaty, eyelids fluttering open and shut again whenever Colin hits her sweet spot.

My eyes fall shut. I imagine I was there with them. Wait, what? No – more like, I see myself in Colin’s place. Fuck the other guy, the Kaia lookalike is driving me nuts, her perky schoolgirl ass and pussy sprawled before me, dripping with anticipation for me to claim her.

Fuck. Not sure how long they intend keeping to this, but I’m for one am getting close.

I open my eyes to find the tables have turned. The boyfriend pulls his girl to an upright position, turns her around, and lifts her leg up high. Damn, she’s flexible. Which only makes me sweat even more. He doesn’t use a condom, and she’s okay with it. Standing, he starts pounding into her, while on the other side Colin’s now kissing her lips, cheek, neck… He’s jerking himself off and rubbing her clit at the same time.

Jeez, multitasking much? I can just about focus on sliding my hand up and down my own dick for a while without unraveling completely after the first minute.

Boyfriend guy sure knows how to give it to his girl right. His thrusts are fast and precise. The delight on her face is, well, a delight. She’s ravishing, hair let down, tiny skirt almost up to her midriff, body slick with sweat. Her boobs are bouncing up and down to the rhythm her guy fucks her to – the same one I’m pumping myself to.

Nothing about this girl rhymes with porn, but she’s one orgasm short of setting this entire place ablaze. For what it’s worth, I’m already burning.

I focus on her furrowed brows, open mouth, and can almost hear her moans through the loud music. Mother shit, girls are gods ends, I swear. Fucking girls are just the best fucking thing ever.

Suddenly, she opens her eyes and looks at me. She looks at me with her big girly eyes. And winks.

Fucking mother cunt fuck shit. My heart stops, only to start racing again even faster. I immediately close my eyes. Fuck, what a coward I am! I just handed both my balls and my dick to that girl on a silver platter.

Suddenly, I jerk as I feel another hand reach for my cock and wrap around it gingerly. I open my eyes. It’s Lana.  

She doesn’t speak, only looks at me with her luscious red mouth and big eyes silently asking for consent.

For Christ’s sake, what is it with this girl always appearing out of nowhere just when I need her the most? I almost whimper with relief as I take my hand out of my pants and let Lana do the work.

My head rolls back, sweat dripping off my forehead. I run my hands through my damp hair, trying to hold on to something, anything, as I come undone under Lana’s skilful hands. I peek at the three-way – well, more at the girl involved – but it’s like she’d never acknowledged me in the first place. Can’t blame her.

With half an eye, I see both guys reaching for each other’s arms. Colin grips the boyfriend’s hand. They look at each other, while he’s still fucking his girl. They interlace fingers. It’s the weirdest fucking intimate symbiosis shit I’ve ever seen. They don’t sell you that shit on TV, that’s for sure.  

Meanwhile, Lana gives me the double-handed twist and stroke massage shit. I feel infinite heat building in my groin. Holy hell.

“This is it, this is it,” I pant, doubting she can even hear me.

Then, I come. Endless bliss washes over me as my dick twitches in Lana’s hands. Jesus, how I needed that.

I don’t really know what happens throughout the next minutes. I just stand there, holding on to the goddamn pillar, gasping for air and enjoying my post-orgasmic state.

By the time I open my eyes, Lana is gone, and Colin is wearing his pants again. He grins and shoots me a peace sign. I groan, mind still somewhat in delirium. What is this godforsaken Alice-in-Wonderland unicorn shit around here?

Well, one thing’s for sure: I’ll be needing a whole fucking lot of Goethe-level metaphors to write a song about this.