April 19, 2010

Formosa Cafe

Diary, Nikki 1 Comment

Last night at the bar when Jason began flirting with me, I tried to stay cool and unresponsive.  But then I started looking at his mouth as he spoke and how his hands moved and I knew we were going to fuck.

I followed him back to an old apartment building at the base of the Hollywood Hills. His room was narrow and lit by a red light bulb and a string of white Christmas lights hung around the moldings. His mattress was on the floor. His guitar was against the wall.

Jason’s mouth was soft when he kissed me but he pressed down hard. He bit my lip and pulled off my sweater and pushed me down onto the mattress. He pinched my nipples. He kept his hands on my tits and went lower, kissing and licking my stomach. Eventually he pulled off my jeans and started licking and sucking and biting me. It was too much pressure so I told him to be more gentle.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and moved his mouth lower. Then he pushed a finger inside me and moved it up and forward and the intensity almost made me pass out. My back arched and I climaxed in waves. I pushed his head off me when he tried to keep licking. He came up and pulled me back up onto the bed.

“Can I do that again?” He asked. “You taste really good.”

When I had caught my breath I turned to him. He took off his shirt and kissed me. I tasted myself and all I could think about was how his cock would feel in my mouth.

“What about you?” I asked.

“Take off my pants,” he said.  I unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down. His cock was so hard. His skin was pale and his scrotum was pierced with a little silver ring.

I pulled myself up and leaned over him, kissed him, rubbed myself up and down his body, bit his nipples. Then I went lower and took his cock in my mouth. I sucked and licked. I couldn’t go too far down without gagging and I knew he wasn’t going to come so after a while I stopped and moved up so we were lying down together with our heads at the top of the bed.

“Want a cigarette?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I said, and as he moved over me to get them he started kissing me and we were entwined again and I felt him hard against my stomach and wanted him inside me so fucking badly. He moved down to lick me and this time his tongue was lighter so that when I came it was faster and the contractions were more intense and I was left trembling and my mouth was completely dry. He came up to kiss me. He stopped and looked at me. I smiled. He held my head in his hands and said “you are so sexy.”

I felt my legs shaking and said “I’m not going to be able to walk.”

“That’s okay,” he said, “you can stay here.”

“I can’t,” I said. I’m not good at spending the night. I don’t know how to be that vulnerable.

He moved up and started rubbing himself against my pussy. He lifted my legs up over his shoulders and was careful not to enter me. Once, he pushed in.

“Oops, sorry,” he said, and then, “damn, I want to do that again.”

Then he said: “we can’t have sex because I don’t have any rubbers.”

“Okay,” I said, and looked up at him. I wanted him inside me but I also desperately wanted to suck his cock until he came so I could taste him.

“But I can come like this,” he said and he kept rubbing and almost entering and pushing and it was making me crazy.

“I want to fuck you so badly,” he said, then he turned me over and moved up and down against my ass until he came on my back. I felt it splash. I felt the wetness. I love that feeling.

He wiped me off and went to get us cigarettes. He lit both in his mouth like he was in a movie and then came over next to me and lifted me up and put a pillow underneath me. He kept kissing my forehead. He pulled the covers over us and opened his arm and motioned for me to lie on his chest. We smoked and listened to Mazzy Star. I was aware of everything: the sound of a tree scraping against his window, the smell of his hair gel, his skin hot against mine. I felt safe.

On the way home I stopped at the red light at Sunset and a prostitute crossed the street in front of me. She was wearing a trench coat open down the front. She was slim with a long blonde ponytail and high heeled boots. She winked at me and did a little dance step in the middle of the intersection.

Nikki Thomas was born and raised in Los Angeles. She was a straight A student who couldn’t follow the rules and spent as much time in the principal’s office as in the library. At university she opted not to join a sorority and instead filled her free time cruising Hollywood bars and parties, hooking up and getting down. Nikki is a bad girl with a heart of gold. These are her stories — consider it our Monday treat for you.


Nikki Thomas was born and raised in Los Angeles. She was a straight A student who couldn’t follow the rules and spent as much time in the principal’s office as she did in the library. At university she opted not to join a sorority and instead filled her free time cruising Hollywood bars and parties, hooking up and getting down. In short: she's a bad girl with a heart of gold.

More Posts

  • roxy spitfire

    Wow Nikki. A girl after my own heart. Loved the part about the mattress. Also loved the bit about Mazzy Star, the smell of hair gel. This is some serious talent!


Add our page on Google+!

Keep up with everything we're covering right in your stream. Please note this page is limited to users 18+.


Gamers Won’t Be Seduced, Will Stare At Random Cleav Instead

That Steam allows the objectification and sexualization of female characters in a variety of its games but refuses to accept a game about actually engaging with women in a more interactive fashion is astonishingly backward.

FetLife Is Not Safe for Users

That the site doesn’t take measures to protect user content and has shown incompetence or negligence in regard to user privacy, all the while prohibiting victims from warning others about predatory behavior creates an environment where it is nearly impossible for members of the community to take care of themselves and one another. By enabling FetLife to continue espousing a code of silence, allowing the spinning self-created security issues as “attacks,” and not pointing out how disingenuous FetLife statements about safety are, we are allowing our community to become a breeding ground for exploitation.

Why You Should Vote No On Prop 35

Should people who benefit (parents, siblings, children, roommates!) from the earnings of “commercial sex acts” (any sexual conduct connected to the giving or receiving of something of value) be charged with human trafficking? Should someone who creates obscene material that is deemed “deviant” be charged as with human trafficking? Should someone who profits from obscene materials be charged with human trafficking? Should people transporting obscene materials be charged with human trafficking? Should a person who engages in sex with someone claiming to be above the age of consent or furnishing a fake ID to this effect be charged with human trafficking? What if I told you the sentences for that kind of conviction were eight, 14 or 20 years in prison, a fine not to exceed $500,000, and life as a registered sex offender?

Pretty and Calls Herself a Geek? Attention Whore!

If you are a woman, you might be given a chance to prove yourself in this community. Since there is no standard definition of what a “geek” is and it will vary from one judge to the next anyway, chances of failing are high (cake and grief counseling will be available after the conclusion of the test!). If you somehow manage to succeed, you’ll be tested again and again by anyone who encounters you until you manage to establish yourself like, say, Felicia Day. But even then, you’ll be questioned. As a woman, your whole existence within the geek community will be nothing but a series of tests — if you’re lucky. If you aren’t lucky, you’ll be harassed and threatened and those within the culture will tacitly agree that you deserve it.

Cuddle Chemical? Moral Molecule? Not So Fast

Zak’s original field, it turns out, is economics, a far cry from the hearts and teddy bears we imagine when we consider his nickname. But after performing experiments on generosity, Zak stumbled on the importance of trust in interactions, which led him, rather inevitably, to research about oxytocin. Oxytocin, you might remember, is a hormone that has been linked previously to bonding — between mothers and children primarily, but also between partners. What Zak has done is take the research a step further, arguing in his recent book, The Moral Molecule, that oxytocin plays a role in determining whether we are good or evil.

How to Avoid Pissing off a Stripper

Let’s talk about the strippers. Whether they like to be half-naked or not, whether they enjoy turning you on or not, there’s one thing they all have in common: they’re working. Whether you think that taking one’s clothes off for money is a great choice of career is really beside the point (is it a possibility for you to make $500 per hour at your job without a law degree? Just asking). These women are providing fantasy, yes, but that is their job. And as a patron of the establishment where they work, you need to treat them like you would anyone else who provides a service to you.


Send us news!

AV Flox

In-House Theologian:
Robert Fischer

Eros and Desire Scholar:
Dawn Kaczmar

Scientific Consultant:
Jason Goldman

East Coast Liaison:
Jackie Summers

Barbie Davenporte

Read about the contributors we've had over time on our staff page.

Follow SAT405 on:


Hosted by (mt)


Sex and the 405 is what your newspaper would look like if it had a sex section.

Here you’ll find news about the latest research being conducted to figure out what drives desire, passion, and other sex habits; reviews of sex toys, porn and other sexy things; coverage of the latest sex-related news that have our mainstream media's panties up in a bunch; human interest pieces about sex and desire; interviews with people who love sex, or hate sex, or work in sex, or work to enable you to have better sex; opinion pieces that relate to sex and society; and the sex-related side of celebrity gossip. More...