I get questions asking me all the time “how this? how that?” from very unserious people I might add. That think useful information that’s truly life changing is free. I hate to say it but all these g…

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Concerning Attraction & Its Determined Nature

Definition I. By attraction I understand the effect produced in one person by the presence, qualities, or bearing of another, this effect arising no…

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Preface

I fuck for release, a pitiful claim that you could ever even mimic my two left feet

Oh how her hands caress my hair until I fall asleep, awoken by fire, priest, naysayers

parading their morality like white flags up & down the street.

I die a man forged by blood, guided by spirit, anointed by destiny.

Not to walk is to die, off a cliff, into a woman, I cum in her with impunity.

I forget myself with every stroke.

1220 BC.. is the year I died, gored to death in the middle of a scorching hot forest by a stupid fucking pig. If there wasn’t a more ironic death I could think of that the most beautiful man, in the most beautiful place, would be killed by a pig in the ugliest way possible. Stabbed in a man’s most prized possession. You could imagine the shock from hunting to being the hunted. By the “ mighty ” Ares no less, the brute disguised himself as the boar I hunted to distract me. A “god” had to rely on manipulation to defeat a mortal. Over a woman! Of all the things to kill a man for you do it over something that’s naturally abundant to everyone! After the coward attacked, it was already arranged that I’d be able to return to the surface every spring. The pro’s of fucking goddesses I guess. I wasn’t an ordinary human like the rest of you. That would be largely evident by what happened next. I demanded a retrial by Hades & Persephone, I urged them to talk to Zeus, that’s who wanted to keep me here. By here I mean the Underworld. Not the best place to retire from life, it’s mainly the screams of the regretful & strange stench that keeps me up that comes from.. well that’s why it’s strange I have no idea where it comes from.

Contrary to popular belief Hades wasn’t the jealous type, he knew everything that me & his wife did. These situations have been going on since man could walk. Men have different roles, I’m the man your akoitis longs for. You’re the man she grew comfortable with, made her laugh, & devoted yourself to her every waking desire. I only show up with a hard penis & unmatched kallos for them to simply fawn over me. Hades accepted this, were actually great friends. Not great enough to release me from my fate. Beauty is the most expensive commodity, so much so that people will trade their wives or husbands, even children they claim to love to just experience it. Hades is a cold hard business man that loves his numbers more than anything in the world. Even though Zeus has as much disdain for Ares as everyone else, he’s still a son of Zeus & certain images must be maintained. Aphrodite, my greatest love, is the only reason I’m still able to tell this story today. Aphrodite, threatened to abandon her godly duties of reproduction for every living thing on earth if Zeus didn’t overturn his decision. Some would say what’s a mortal to a god, I’d say what’s a god without a mortal. Zeus isn’t entirely personable, he simply put me back on the surface with little to no explanation. Persephone wasn’t exactly thrilled & this wouldn’t be the last time I’d hear from her, I also kept my ability to resurrect under the condition I keep vegetation going willingly. Even Gods have to work. With my new freedom I wasn’t sure what to do, I thought I wanted it until I got it. The Gods always sprinkled in just a dash of cruelty to their miracles. It’s written that every single time I die a death by the hands of another my beauty fades a little.

I tell this story looking back on the entirety of my life. A eagle eyes view if you will. I’ve seen things you couldn’t imagine, met figures larger than life. You know that feeling when something cool happens? Then you look around to have no one you could share with or that’ll even care. That’s why I’m writing this. I’ve seen too much cool shit to not tell the world. The eras I’ve been apart of, battles I’ve seen, women I conquered, gods I’ve defeated.

85 AD, The streets roar with sonic energy only comparative to a mighty army, the streets packed with thousands, reeked of shit & piss. Strangely enough, it was intoxicating. As a mortal I hated the idea of a city, as a god something changed. Rome had everything the soul needs to survive. To the slums of Subura to the beautiful Palatine Hills, a duality much needed for an interesting, lively place. The world needs cruelty as much as it needs goodness for the game to even start. For a game to even exist. I spent my time engaging in every pleasure a man can think of that Rome could offer. From the many brothels in Subura to the chariot races in the Circus Maximus. Gold was easy, to aquire as you could imagine, I seduced the wealthiest matronaes I could find. Exciting as it was seeing Rome shaped before my very eyes, it didn’t come without it’s dangers. Just to test out my new affliction I regrettably decided to volunteer for the gladiator pits. I thought to myself how much different could beast be to man, they all bleed the same! Finding a lanista for the physical assessment was the easy part, With the endless hunts along with training every other day my body appeared flawless. The foe would simply fold by a glance. Next was the dramatic oath giving away all my autonomy away over my body “ To be burned by fire, bound in chains, beaten with rods, and killed by the sword. Whatever the fuck

that means. “ The point is to die, so one fight is all I’ll need to accomplish the task. People see me as slightly different to maintain the discretion that the gods would like to keep once I die. The spell is only dismantled through telling them who I am once again. Shortly after taking the oath they stripped me of my clothes to place me in a cheaply made tunica. A thick industrial like mog filled the air, oppressively collabing with the sounds of wood swords clashing and doctores yelling like they’d just been gifted speech. Ludus Magnus, it was called, I became a retiarius because of my hunting skills. The first day I’m introduced to my barracks brother I’ll share a room with named Guelius.

Adonis : Salve, -I extend my hand out - Adonis.

Guelius: Guelius. -Accepts-

Adonis: What an odd name, how long have you been here?

Guelius: 1..2… 3 weeks that feel like an eternity, my mother is afer & my father roman. So hence the name.

Adonis: I see, what brings you here?

Guelius: I’m expected to be a great soldier & one day a even better general. My father says ludus is a great starting point. What’s your reasoning? Did some wealthy old fuck get tired of you?

Adonis: Quite the contrary, I came here on my own volition. I want to be adorned with glory by mortals & gods ali..

Guelius: Good Luck with that.

The sarcasm of his words hit me like a dagger, even though I lied, what was wrong with my fake aspirations? The guards quickly ended our conversation prematurely by hitting the iron grates like they were the ones caged. This would be a very long set of months.

Three months later..

Morning came too fast to appreciate, the sound of horns & men piercing our ears to scoff down food that only could have been made by & for beast. Training shared the same aspects, with the doctores breathing down our necks, ready to correct any mistake we may make. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Guelius, he fought exceptionally well for only being here for three weeks, I’m guessing those expectations have already somewhat materialized.

Talking to people isn’t as fun as it use to be, you start to see patterns and in those patterns archetypes that are more or less the same as the others. It’s really quite boring. I can

understand why the gods only wanted to fuck, manipulate, kill. There’s nothing else worth doing! Maybe immortality is unnatural & it’s nature’s way of rebalancing things by the only word nature knows or even cares about. Power. Everything that society creates wants to make you forget that, made to ease the pain they cause and create circuses to question if it even happened. You become so docile that you can’t even fathom fighting back.

Doctore: ADIONTIS! FOCUS! - The sound of his whip comes crashing down onto bare skin and bone reconnecting adiontis attention to hitting his wooden post - You spend too much time in introspection, daydreaming about tits. GUELIUS OVER HERE NOW! After recovery you two will spar.

Instead of a the brutes that massage you, they could get a few speciosas in here. It’ll give the men new reasons to fight. Guelius stared at me blankly not caring about my loyalty to their pleasure. It was time, a great defense is a even better offense. DOCTORE: BEGIN - I charge in for a side slash for him to counter with a parry almost instantly followed up with a strong knee to the liver. I could have passed out right then & there. Violence is a lot uglier than people can imagine, after being staggered for a second I was able to recover with a swift elbow into his nose by turning on my right side after dropping my shield returning the pain back, stunning him for a few seconds to try to regain proper footing or so I thought, he recovered way faster than I could imagine. Before I could react, he slashed his sword vertically with a shot to my lower ribs causing me to completely stumble. The fight was over that fast, he hit me so hard in fact that the fight was stopped because of the laceration that followed.

After my medical evaluation followed by a rough massage by the biggest gentleman they could seem to find. I was able to sit in silence for a little, a fleeting commodity it seems the more modernized the world gets, Rome made it a commerce luxury. I didn’t want to get to know the people I fought with, my mission was to die, not make friends I’d outlive or never make the effort to see again. I don’t need anymore pain added on. When supper came I managed to avoid the gaze of my brothers by only focusing on my sagina. The horn sounded, it was time to leave today behind me only to repeat it. I’d have to keep fighting Guelius until I was worthy of a actual match. Guelius came in as I started talking to myself.

Guelius: What?

Adonis: Huh?

Guelius: You said something

Adonis: Just thinking of how impressive of a fighter you are & how it’ll take forever to reach those heights for my fight

Guelius: You’re more ready than you think you are, no one has been able to hit me here except you. Meaning you’ll be fighting soon

Adonis: How soon

Guelius: Maybe a month or so

Adonis: Well then amor fati

Guelius: What?

Adonis: Amor fati means..

Guelius: I know what it means, why are you saying it?

Adonis: I accept whatever may happen in the arena

Guelius: That’s dramatic, its not like you’re going to die

Adonis: What do you mean I’m not going to die?

Guelius: No one dies in their rookie match, that’s not a thing

What I could only imagine as a dark cloud appeared over my entire being, the thing I came here to do, the only thing I came here to do I wasn’t able to see out. I would have to find a new way to die. I was property now, this wouldn’t be a easy task.

Adonis: Oh isn’t that a relief! GUARDS! May I excuse myself

The latrine was the only place I could be alone, a fitting place for the topic at hand. Death is filthy, at the same time death is relief. Plans are for people with time, to be immortal and still need more has to be the gods sense of humor. In the midst of an ugly situation I thought of home, I missed Aphrodite, love thats seen many seasons sprouts something immovable, something that’s infinite in being, our love is as sure as time is ongoing, our love is fate. I’ll see her again once I die. Maybe, just maybe there was something I could kill myself with or a way I could kill myself in here. I just don’t know if being slightly uglier is worth it yet. My baseline is a dream for most, I just won’t think about it for now.

I search high and low to find anything I could use, until it hits me, literally. The stench hit me in the nose just as hard as Gueliuses knee. Vinegar with a hint of piss. The tersorium, I could beat myself with it! No, it’ll take entirely too long. Then I get a filthy idea, your environment can really give you that spark you need. It went from I could choke myself to death on the tersorium. To I must choke myself to death using the tersorium. I inhaled then managed to stuff the sponge and handle down my throat. It took minutes to finally die. Looking back, I think it’s the smell that actually killed me.

The rest resides in the full book Autopsy Of Desire on my amazon, thank you for reading

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A week later I wanted to kill myself, I didn’t care to meet anyone else. My basic function to fuck, eat, sleep, & kill started to kick in. All these distractions are just creative ways to do more eating, sleeping, fucking, & killing. All the hobbies we love are still socially tied to people, if everyone on earth died today you’d have no hobbies, you’d probably just kill yourself. So I like reducing myself, its the little things that make me happy, like seeing a large weiner dog because they look like dicks or having sex with a new girl because my dick loves novelty or having more children

I’m an old man now, these kids haven’t been through shit to know anything, one in a frat adjacent hostel I would frequent, even tried to lecture me about what he thought was my dysfunctional dating life when the topic up for dicussion to this table of strangers, was dating. This kid that didn’t even have hair on his balls yet. This boy that didn’t even know where the clit was if the girl guided his hand, was attempting to give me relationship advice. The mark of becoming a man is responsibility for starters, he looked nude.

This friends thing just isn’t working, too much talking about nothing. I’d rather save my words for the page or let them roam around in my head. All I could think about is how I’d rather be playing russian roulette with my dick in a new woman. It’s highly unlikely I’ll ever see these people again. That chick that I matched with on tinder tuesday? That could be the mother of my children. The rampant cheating was interesting to witness too, being black & in the background made me almost invisible, I’m not the try to talk to as many women as humanly possible guy. I let the pussy come to me, it enables me to read people better. One girl cheated on her boyfriend four times apparently in this one frat hostel alone.

I can’t say I wasn’t tempted once or twice, there was this arabic chick with big perky tits that sat on her tiny frame that I would have done every disgusting thing you can imagine, I’m talking foot on the head sex. I just can’t be bothered to work for pussy anymore, I’m so use to it falling out of the sky & being offered it, rather its on apps, in person, when I’m already with a woman. Drinking to fit in still feels like work. Staying at a shitty hostel instead of a 5 star hotel with a bidet that sprays your asshole to perfection, feels like work. The kind of work that leaves your balls empty but your heart full, I haven’t worked in 6 years.

Every time… I need a steaming hot shower to wash off the filth that’s yesterday’s actions. I rarely say yesterday meaning the actual day has changed. It just represents how behind me I’d like it. How fractured I am from the decisions I have to make. I use to like spending more time with the women I’d meet. Now I prefer spending as much time as I can in solitude. “It’s like soon as I cum I come to my senses” - Lil Wanye. I can’t even pinpoint the day I became so attached to myself & detached from others.

Then I think to myself who the fuck cares. Lets keep dancing. What triggered the introspection? 2am in the morning, in my Grab car. Grab is the equivalent to uber in Asia. Right after I just delivered my best performance yet. Bumble needs to sponsor me at this point. Bumble, that’s where I met this new girl. My new muse that I may only meet tonight but will go on to inspire me for a lifetime.

I’m more excited than I am nervous about tonight, I guess the emperor got his groove back. The girl in question looks like an artist, tattoos everywhere, Instagram carefully curated. I’m in direct opposition against our current institutions, the status quo, whatever name you’d need to understand them, so I love unconventional women. It’s the first step to knowing if there could be anything deeper than just being magnets for our meat suits.

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This could be the part of me that likes romanticizing a life I never lived or a version of myself that I’d hate, I’m not sure. I’ve turned down at least two invitations to content houses so far that could have been great for my finances but terrible for my philosophy. A black sheep that wants to stay a black sheep. "You whites possess the power of subduing almost every animal to your use. You are surrounded by slaves… and you are slaves yourselves. I fear if I should exchange my pursuits for yours, I too should become a slave… I was born free, was raised free, and wish to die free."- Le Soldat du Chene Big Soldier

Sometimes I think I’m cursed to be Mance Rayder, I don’t know any other way to be. No matter how great my current reality is I get more excited thinking about that smaller creator that said yes to both. When your dreams become reality, dreams seem like the better place to be. The funny part is I’d still say no a thousand times over.

Oh boy, where do I start. There’s a certain video. She actually did kinda look like Tony Sopranos wife. In this certain video is me & a older blonde lady that’s in the process of cheating on her husb…

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I’ve always wanted a Japanese floor bed. When I finally got one the reception was a little underwhelming. Not a single girl I brought over knew what it was. They thought it was brokeness that plagued me into wanting to sleep on the floor when it was actually by choice. That Japanese floor bed seen more pussy than you’d logically believe in the span of a few months.

To failed threesomes. Two girls that went to a college nearby that I matched with on tinder. A few messages later we facetime. A few days later they both come over. One petite, short, the other short, slim thick, dreads. I sucked on the slim thick one’s tits like I’d been reborn. They were both pretty, the petite one was abrasive while the slim thick one was sweet. It was only a matter of time before their friendship imploded.

I fucked the petite one, yes the one I didn’t want. Her friend sat in the living room listening in on us probably. I wore a condom non-reluctantly this time. Personality means more than I let on, I was wagyu to her. I could tell she doesn’t attract men like me often. Her friend could easily find lesser versions than me. Maybe that’s why she was the one outside listening instead of participating. Actually this was before I even got the japanese floor bed. Who cares I’ve already written this part. These two stopped talking to me because of some simp that wanted my ex.

The Japanese floor bed even seen milfs, one that operated as a surrogate I would fuck. Girls I told to fuck off because I didn’t want to wash it right away. Looking back on that last situation god she was sexy & I was just being a stubborn ass. Never seen her again, I like to think her life went on to be terrible without me. I just really loved my Japanese floor bed. It was way too sensitive for the washing machine. I would clean it by hand like it deserved. Anyways, that bed seen a lot. One girl stood out amongst the rest as a oddity in real time that I met on tinder. Looking back I could tell she was lying. Most people can, I’m not special they just don’t care enough to say it.

Everything was shrouded in mystery & lies with her. Mostly lies. I didn’t care, I never do. Imposing myself onto others isn’t cool, no one owes you anything. Your loyalty should only go as deep as your mutual responsibility. Your word, a kid, something that binds you to someone. So I didn’t understand the lying, I wasn’t gonna take my dick away.

You guys already know the story about how we met. Tinder, around Thanksgiving. She was curious about seeing another video I made which led to her being apart of a video. I won’t get graphic with the details as we have a video that you could look at. That’s one of my more vocal videos. I usually have sex like batman beats people, grunts & many deep breaths. It’s not on the video because it took me forever to cum but I did cum in her.

No questions asked. She didn’t care she wanted me to. I get super hungry afterwards so I say we should grab some food. Against my better judgement I want wafflehouse. You might see anything in wafflehouse at 2 in the morning depending on the city you’re in. We were in one of those cities. I forgot what we ordered, I usually got the all star. She looked at me crazy when I offered to pay for it, like I committed some social sin.

The one thing I hate about damaged women is that every simple gesture is met with apprehensiveness & unworthiness. I’m just buying you food after I just nutted in you relax. It could be making her cum that turned her into this oh let me do it servant. I didn’t care it wasn’t a big deal who paid. This was around the time I worked as a personal trainer at crunch. I hated that job, full of sleep walkers that were equally offput by me. She picked me up after my hours of slavery were finished. On our way to IKEA I started grilling her about past lovers. Just to gauge who she is on a more personal level. I didn’t get a coherent answer or I wasn’t listening hard enough. In IKEA we looked like one of those annoying couples that can’t keep their hands off each other that you judge. We all know they probably won’t last. Actual affection doesn’t look like that when you spend too much time together.

I thought about fucking her in the bathroom. We talked less due to her probably getting back with an ex or something. Usually a loser comes back right after you’ve fucked them. Whoever he was, she even asked for tips about how I could help him or knew any girls that would shoot with him. I just laughed, I don’t do charity for the able-bodied. Eventually she came running back only to be met with me asking for a threesome. The dedication wasn’t as strong as I wanted. She obviously said no, it was funny that she thought we could return to our normal standing. I’m not the average man… she learned that the hard way. A woman that leaves must prove herself again. I do hope you’re doing well whatever you are. The last time we spoke she joined a industry not so far off from what I do. My Japanese floor bed couldn’t take the countless amounts of women I’d share it with any longer.

Oh Asia how I love you. I have never in my life fucked an Indian chick until a few days ago. I’m not a completionist by any means, I’m just here for the experience, the love of the game just to say I…

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First off both sides of my family are very religious in their own ways. You can imagine the inner turmoil I caused once everyone found out who I am. Me personally? I don’t give a single fuck. A major…

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Their loyalty to me was nothing more than a ploy for that same loyalty in return. My loyalty lies within my cause for greatness through expression of the self. No woman could ever tame me, it would be that same domesticated lifestyle that would zap me of everything I love about myself & therefore make me produce lesser works. I follow my spiritual ancestors related by philosophy alone, I want everything, every woman, every creative thought that runs across my consciousness, every foe that makes it so, every friend that cheers me on expecting me to win, I want the world as I am. Back to how we met.

Our first time talking we found ourselves on facetime talking about movies for way too long, following each other on letterbox exchanging taste & opinions. Films were my introduction to limitless imagination, sharing that love with someone that also felt that way felt freeing. A girl that loved the show Atlanta as much as me was rare. With girls like this I don’t remember the sex in too much detail since we had a connection right away. I introduced her to my friends at the time, went to comedy shows, I even introduced her to goth girl. She wasn’t as freaked out as the others, after having sex one time she did mention how she understands that effect my dick has on women & why they agreed to be on camera in the first place with me.

Everything felt so normal with her, not in a bad way either. I even made my famous rotel at a get together with her friends that we had at her parents house. It was a nice home, way nicer than either of my parents places. I wasn’t as jealous I moved out the hood at this point & had my nice apartment in an area where white people weren’t afraid to jog.

She had green eyes, a face that looked too innocent to be with me, long red hair & stood at 5’3 maybe. I fucked her face like an animal in her bedroom once. She wanted to drain me until I busted in her mouth & it was my objective to make her wish come true. I don’t usually cum from head, dont ask me why, maybe I fuck too much. She’s determined, a few more strokes using her mouth till I bust in her mouth. Like a good girl she swallows every single drop. I hated having to ask so I never do. Asking to be wanted in every way ruins the moment in my head. I feel like a sex crazed Max Payne with the way these stories are told, maybe thats a part of the charm.

We went to a small comedy club for a date. A few things happened, I was told that I looked like asap rocky. That I had a pure white girl with me, like she’s the pinnacle out of all the type of white girls you could have. It was quite the night. I didn’t care if this bitch was white, blue, purple, green, orange, burgundy. No chick gets special treatment by simply existing, I care about their service. There was this one time that she softly said we should stop seeing each other in a romantic way to switch to just a sexual way. There came a point where she just slowly faded out of my life which was probably for the best.

One night we had plans to meet up with the freaky couple from reddit that became my friends. Not for any freaky stuff mind you just a night out on the town. When I think about it, I did invite her to meet two women I have had sex with. Writing this makes me realize that may have played a part in her decision. Like the romantic I am, I suggested we should go together. In a motherly tone that I picked up through text, “she goes hey you should really get a car dude” I did not like that.

My lifestyle was low commitment, lets have fun at any moment curated. A car when I could walk or uber anywhere I needed to at anytime felt stupid. I wanted to get ahead not be stuck in the same cycle by getting things I didn’t need. A girl like that would never understand a guy like me. She was too normal to be anything besides a phase. I feel like a cowboy, instead of a town its someones life that I drift into & out to the next.

Welcome to put it in your mouth where I tell you about a collection of fine dining restaurants that I’ve personally been to that need to be in your mouth, no they’re not affordable & yes they’re bouj…

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Living outside of America for almost a year now has been such a sobering experience, to say the least. More so, it’s made me confront who I am head on. The brain is a funny thing, it’ll do anything to protect you. Even use your sense of self as a defense mechanism. It’s stripped me of all my armor that I’d hide behind in the states: hating my hometown, the people, the boredom. They all had some sort of validity once upon a time ago. Now I mourn the version of myself that believed I had the ability to be anything I wanted to. Looking back, that’s never been true. I’d shout to the rooftops that I’d work for myself no matter what. That I would escape the system & live happily ever after.

I love my life, I really do. I just hate that what seemed like a choice at first, that represented freedom, a big fuck you to society, turned out to not be my choice at all. It’s not old news, however, being away from everything that’s unfamiliar, I can’t stop ruminating on every “decision” I’ve ever made. I got solace, confidence, knowing that I was this rebel. The cog that just wouldn’t work no matter how much adjusting it took. In reality, my childhood dictated my refusal to adhere to authority, the obsessive need to prove that I was worth anything to anyone. And even though those wounds are scars now, I still remember the battles & losses that had to occur to win. I’ve been saved numerous times by how I thought I arrived there. That I wasn’t a product of my environment, just in a different shade.

Agency didn’t belong to me, or anyone for that matter. It was something I borrowed, something I required as fuel to keep going. I even noticed early on how out of sync I’d feel if I tried to step outside my path. The relationships I got in would never work. On the surface, what seemed like incompatibilities were other lost souls looking to be more than they were by any means. Even entering situations they know wouldn’t work. Only now does amor fati make any sense.

Walking the path has been the easiest part. Staying on the path is the hardest part. No matter how hard your life is or gets, there’s always an obvious path. A life where you ignore fate is no life at all. Plagued with pointless suffering & longing. Where’s the choice in that? A life unrealized, full of regrets garnished with hypotheticals. We are what we are. I am what I am, forever amor fati.

This isn’t my baby mama, before you ask. It’s a pregnant girl I decided to meet on Tinder. I only get women that come from two parent households pregnant. I could tell she was fatherless by the way she looked. People in poverty usually have that look to them. Bored out of my mind at my dad’s trailer since I had been kicked out of my mother’s house for being a defiant whore in her eyes for the second time. My dad was the only place that made sense to go. I spent my time working at Amazon & talking to girls on Tinder.

My dad lived in the middle of nowhere, ironically I grew up in the countryside. Hated rural areas with every fiber of my being. It’s a great contrast when the city has exhausted you. Me? I was running toward something, not away. I didn’t need more time in my head. What I needed was action & being in bumfuck nowhere took that away from me. I was scared I’d be like the rest of these nobodies that lived on the outskirts of society that died with their dreams intact & nightmares fully realized.

All the days blended together like a drug binge. I don’t know how long we talked, as you know it’s never long. I match with her, say anything but the wrong thing. She’s a few months pregnant with some piece of shit’s kid. I just wanna fuck, I’m not here to be the guy that stepped up. She sends me the address & surprise surprise the Uber is $40 fucking dollars. That’s what I get for being in the middle of nowhere I guess. I pay for it, I don’t have anything else to do. I arrive to see that I’m unfortunately in the hood. Made obvious by the unemployed men that are staring me down as soon as I get out of my Uber. I see her shortly after to be guided inside to what looks like an empty apartment.

Pregnant women are hornier so there’s no time wasted. She gets in doggy almost automatically. Her ass was a lot fatter than I thought it would be once she took the pants off. It all made sense, she was made for backshots. There’s a video of mine, yes she was freaky like that. I won’t go into too much detail since you know where to find it. Half an hour of me fucking this chick on the floor. I eventually cum in her because she’s already pregnant so ay why the fuck not. We talk for a little before I go to make ourselves even more comfortable. A week or two goes by with a message from her asking me for $25 dollars. For whatever reason I was broke & said no.

Thinking with my dick hasn’t always worked out. It’s taken me to some interesting places that I wouldn’t dare go today. Back in my hometown, Snapchat was one of my many tools I used to inflict this kind of self harm on myself. I’d routinely post thirst traps to have my DMs lit up with responses. Those responses being women that I could fuck. I remember posting one to my story that made this girl I didn’t know feral. She wanted another picture to confirm that it wasn’t just a good angle. Filled with nothing but cum & the desire to release it. I sent her it then swiftly asked for her address.

I know what you’re thinking, no I didn’t ask for a picture. As a naturally optimistic person I just assumed she’d be fine & if she wasn’t I’d just leave. After the address was sent I ordered my Uber with haste. Roughly 15 minutes from my mom’s house, my heart feels like it’s trying to escape through my chest. Not only have I never met this girl before, I’m fairly young at this point in my life. Being a slut was still semi new to me. I get there with my dick matching the feeling of my heart.

Only to be met with the realization that I’m in the projects. Quick education lesson, my mom lived in the hood. The hood is a term for a lower income black area, the projects are government subsidized public areas. I was dealing with a different beast, I saw kids with no supervision & ni**as mean mugging in every direction. I approach the door with it already open. I felt like a badass back then so nothing really scared me. This could have been a set up to rob or do anything to me so I do advise being way more cautious than I was.

I walk into the bedroom on the right of the door slowly to find a girl laid face down. Immediately I start caressing her ass, she’s a dark skinned petite chick with a fat ass. My internet persona would make you believe that I’m in love with white women but that’s not my type I go insane for. I love Black dark skinned women the most. I’m touching all over her to be stopped with a “wait I have to take a shower.” I don’t even remember her name. I wait for her to take a shower to hear a knock at the door. It’s a tiny chick that says she’s friends with whoever is in the shower.

10 minutes later here we all are talking about whatever, I only remember them mentioning the tattoos on my neck. I pull the girl back into the other room to do what I came to do in the first place. I start kissing her, working my way down to her pussy. I used to be obsessed with eating pussy. As I’m eating her out, her friend comes in the room to watch us. I have no idea what I said at this point, her friend was cute. I think she asked if we were doing what we were doing? In another world where my balls dropped sooner I would have asked the friend to join in. The friend left to wait outside of the door. I still would get nervous in areas that look sketchy which let me know I wasn’t too far gone. I had to wrap this up, full pun intended because this shit was way too easy. I took out a condom to deliver her some decent backshots until I came. I was too consumed with lust & bummyness to think about asking her if I could record it. I have a way with words & I know people — she’s someone that would have let me have whatever I wanted from her.

Her ass was fat enough to where my brain nowadays would be wired to say fuck a condom. I have the patience, time & money to take care of more women & children. Fuck it, I think I tried to hit her up a few years ago with a no. She was sad that I left shortly after with me in her head ghosting. I’m sure my Snapchat got banned at some point due to me posting my explicit art. No idea what she’s up to now, my Snapchats kept getting banned & I forgot her username eventually.

I told myself that I wouldn’t tell this story. It’s just so fucking funny that I couldn’t help myself. If you haven’t caught up on Adiontis lore go read my story about the stripper then come back her…

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Before I begin this story I’ll explain. This should be no surprise I’m a catch & women don’t care as much about sexual loyalty when you’re all-encompassingly attractive. My applications are never clo…

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I have always been fascinated by films since I could remember anything. People who are familiar with my work here know me as the guy that makes explicit material with an artistic take, a title I gladly accept. Combining authentic storytelling with my video editing.

My ambition knows no bounds I watch films with great envy thinking “man I wish I made that” or at least tried. Traveling has given me an awakening that I don’t think was possible in the states. Japan rewired my brain in the best way possible creatively. Breathing the air, walking around, studying the architecture, gave me all these fresh ideas about working with what I already had.

The film was right in front of me, my life is literally about desire, so much so that I’ve managed to turn it into a career. It obviously couldn’t be that barebones, it still needed a creative story, that’s where the greek mythology comes in at. When it comes to greek mythology i’ve always been a huge nerd relating to anything remotely in that world. I also thought about my name & the mortal adonis, everything just worked. Even though the concept was there it started off way too ambitious for what I could actually produce. The original plan was to have it be a full length film until I realized this is my first piece of work in this space & the smarter thing would just be to take it slower. Besides, I didn’t have the footage or the resources to get the footage as fast as I needed to.

Being the resourceful person I am. I gathered up all the footage I could that could tell a cohesive story along with the script I had been working on for months. Call me the russ of cinema, I did all my own everything of course, the writing, editing, down to the color grading. Once I commit to an idea my brain literally forces me to materialize it or I can’t focus on anything else. I’m talking tyler durden levels of insomnia. The title came after everything else was finished, I landed on Autopsie du Désir due to the provocative & creative nature of french films that I hope to capture. All in all, a exciting process that I can’t wait to venture on again as I am planning on turning this into a full length film as soon as possible.

48 people have supported the film thus far with it only being available by purchase, I’ll include some testonimals below.

Sincerely, Thank you

Since the absurdity is the norm in my case there are times where I’m reminded when I’ve went against social norms head first, reading, watching a insightful youtube video. Women don’t plague my mind as much as you may think. I met this girl around the time I met the stripper, we met on tinder around when the stripper stayed with me. The nerdy black girl with a great body who you know is a freak. My rule that I broke sometimes was that if a girl was in my normal rotation (women I didn’t make sexy time videos with) they have to pay for mostly everything we do. To be fair I never asked this chick to appear in anything explicit, my thought process was that if she wanted to she’d ask to be apart of it, she knew everything.

Intellectually she did stimulate me way more than most women, she at least appeared interested in frame works, self actualization, I found the effort incredibly sexy. I’ll fuck a retarded bitch all day, I just would never realistically have anything meaningful with them because after sex you’re gonna scroll your phone showing me different tiktoks about shit I don’t have the mental capacity for, I’ll sit there and act like I’m interested so you can shut up. Bare with me, my memories of her are jumbled we had a lot of sex & it just kinda meshed together, however I do remember this part.

One day she wanted to come over desperately & obviously knew that I wouldn’t pay for it. I didn’t pry too much because I really don’t care how you get to my apartment long as you do. I get told she’s on the way, roughly two minutes away, I do this thing where I go outside prematurely like the world’s best golden retriever to see some of them faster. A truck pulls up and there she goes, There I am standing in the hot sun, light glistening on my abs, ready to rearrange her pussy like a rubix cube. Greetings out the way, once were inside she starts telling me about how much of a bitch her ex that drove her here is. How he wants to get back together & that he was screaming at her on the way here. Not sure if he said anything about me or if she just didn’t mention what he said , all nice things I bet.

I didn’t have much to say but “yeah he is a bitch” I couldn’t disagree, he technically is, dropping your ex off to get donkey fucked by me? Long dick Tryone? Although knowing where you fit on the male hierarchy is a super power, letting you know how to capitalize on your strengths & strengthen your weaknesses. Back to fucking part, I remember her riding the hell out of my dick, looking me directly in my eyes. I tell her okay! I’m about to cum get off. Maybe she didn’t hear me haha get off! Oh she has selective hearing since I’ve repeated myself a few times now.

She starts riding me even harder, It definitely turned me on knowing that she wanted my cum in her that bad. Enough to ignore me saying get off of me & then having the audacity to ride my dick even harder to make me cum in her faster. Instead of throwing her off of me I give in, I cum in her against my better judgement. No idea if she was on birth control or not, that makes it hotter. Clinically I’m a sex addict with a breeding kink, that needs help. Artistically, I’m just expressive & it’s another thursday. I seen her a few more times afterwards until we ran our course. She technically became my girlfriend for a few days & expected to stay at my apartment for far longer than I wanted to, I just finished playing house with the stripper after all. She is bisexual & did reach out to one of my video vixens to fuck funnily enough small world.