I Am a Sex Addict Page #4

And I vowed never to have sex

with a prostitute again.

But then a few days later,

I found myself unable to stop obsessing

about that same prostitute.

Wanna date?

It was becoming a pattern.

Every time I would have sex

with a prostitute,

I would feel empty

and depressed afterwards,

and I would vow never to do it again.

And yet I honestly believed

that if I just did it enough times,

my desire to have sex with a prostitute

would eventually go away.

(moaning)

And then I met Christa.

I was walking down the hallway

at film school

when I saw her for the first time.

Hi.

It was unusual for a woman

I had never met to say hi to me.

Because she did, I assumed

she wanted to have sex.

And then a few days later,

I saw her again.

Excuse me.

Do you know

how to open these?

I can't figure it out.

I can try.

Here you go.

It just twists off, huh?

You like Capra?

I love Capra.

- Hi, my name's Caveh.

- Hi, I'm Christa.

- Nice to meet you.

- Nice to meet you.

So anyway, she invited me to a party

she was giving that Friday night...

... and I went,

hoping to have sex with her.

- Is Christa here?

- Yeah, come on in.

(music playing)

I failed to get her to have sex with me.

But I did get her to lend me

a copy of her screenplay.

It was one of the best screenplays

I'd ever read.

And I felt that I had finally found

someone that I could relate to.

I called her immediately

and asked her out.

It was then that it happened,

I looked into her eyes

and I saw her soul.

Until then, she had just been someone

that I wanted something from.

But at that moment I suddenly

saw that she was a real human being,

with needs and feelings of her own.

It scared the sh*t out of me.

And then one night we were watching

Vivre Sa Vie by Jean-Luc Godard,

about a woman who becomes a prostitute.

You know what I heard?

What?

I heard that Godard has

a prostitute fetish in real life.

Can you believe that?

Yeah.

I can't.

He seems so sensitive to women.

Well, that doesn't mean anything.

I mean, I'm sensitive to women,

and I have a prostitute fetish.

You're kidding, right?

No, I'm serious.

I can't believe that.

Well, it's true.

Caveh, how is that possible?

I mean, how can you justify that to yourself?

Well, I agree it's not

super spiritual or anything,

but I don't think it's so terrible either.

Caveh, it's like rape!

Those women have no choice.

Everybody has a choice.

Or else nobody does.

I can't believe you're saying this.

Well, it's true.

What are you doing?

I'm sorry. I have to leave.

I feel like I'm going to be sick.

Why, because I've had sex

with prostitutes?

Caveh, you don't understand.

I literally feel like

I'm going to throw up. I have to go.

Christa!

(door slams)

A few days later, I saw her again.

Hi.

Hi.

- Still feeling nauseous?

- No.

Sure you don't mind

being seen with me?

Stop it.

I'm sorry. I just felt like

you thought I was disgusting.

I don't think that.

It's not like I'm still doing it.

I know. I'm sorry.

I don't want to have to

hide anything from you.

- Don't you want me to be honest?

- I do.

Caveh, let's make up.

A few weeks later

it was my birthday.

And I convinced Christa to take

Ecstasy with me to celebrate.

- Okay.

- Thank you.

That night, we felt closer

to each other than ever before.

But Ecstasy isn't just a love drug.

It's also a truth serum.

I love you so much.

I love you, too.

- You do?

- I do.

I don't want there to be

any secrets between us.

Caveh, I don't.

I don't either.

- Can I ask you something?

- Yeah.

- You'll tell me the truth?

- Yeah.

There isn't anything that you've never

told me before, is there?

I can take it.

- Yeah, there's one thing.

- What?

I've been wanting to tell you

but I've been scared.

- Caveh, you can tell me anything.

- Okay. Okay.

- Sometimes when we're having sex...

- Yeah?

...I fantasize about other women.

Christa was devastated by my confession

and became hyper-sensitive

about other women.

She would notice them

even before I would

and immediately scrutinize my face

for any sign of interest.

It was unnerving after a while.

So I tried to be upfront about it.

She's pretty sexy.

She's more your type

than I am, isn't she?

What are you talking about?

And then one day I was on my way

to meet Christa for lunch

when I decided to stop and get some gas.

There was something about the way

the woman was bending over

that turned me on.

- Hi. I'm really sorry I'm late.

- Caveh, I've been waiting.

I know, I'm sorry.

I had a little masturbatory episode.

What?

I had to stop for gas, and...

Did you just say

"a little masturbatory episode"?

Yeah. I had to stop for gas,

and there was this woman who was

kind of bending over to put gas in her car,

and she was really sexy,

and I just got really turned on

at the way she was bending over,

and I stopped at my apartment

so I could, you know, masturbate.

But it was really no big deal.

I just thought I should tell you.

I just...

- I just don't want to talk about it.

- What about truth?

- I don't want you to tell me every single day.

- Don't you want to know the truth?

I already know these things

are happening, Caveh.

I know you. I know you.

I understand you.

And believe me,

it will be much better with us.

Don't tell me.

- I don't want to know.

- Okay, fine.

Don't tell me.

And then one night I happened to watch

a news program on massage parlors.

Vice investigators say

they've recently found seven brothels

masquerading as massage parlors.

Police say these busts

are just the tip of the iceberg

and that many massage parlors

are actually fronts for prostitution.

This is Maya Ellington

reporting for Channel 3 News.

Want a massage?

Um...

Yeah. Um...

How much?

Forty dollars for half-hour.

Um...

Does that include everything?

That includes a half-hour.

Um...

- Who gives the massages?

- Different girls.

- Are you one of them?

- No.

Um...

Can I see what they look like?

No. You have to pay first.

Get out of here!

Get out of here!

- I'm sorry.

- Get out of here!

I'm sorry.

You get out of here!

Get out of here!

I visited every massage parlor in L.A.

At first, it turned me on

just to grab the receptionists' breasts

and get thrown out.

But after a while, even this

was no longer exciting enough.

And then one day I had an idea.

I think maybe the reason I haven't

been able to get over my prostitute fetish

is because I've never really

gone all the way with one.

What do you mean?

Greg was my best friend at the time.

We had met at UCLA and had made

a few student films together.

I mean, I've never really treated one

the way I do in my fantasies.

Which is how?

Which is pretty violent.

Like in my fantasies

I'll grab whoever it is by the hair

and I'll make her say things like

"I wanna suck your dick" and stuff,

and maybe call her a b*tch or a slut,

and then start f***ing her really hard

in the mouth and make her gag and stuff.

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