A Lesson in (Public) Sex Ed from Aaron Sleazy: Rob’s Review of Sleazy Stories
“She repeatedly asked me whether I was drunk. Apparently it was inconceivable for her that someone could be sober and talk to girls.” Those two sentences, on page 87 of Aaron Sleazy’s Sleazy Stories: Confessions of an Infamous Modern Seducer of Women, could perhaps be the greatest understatement I’ve ever seen in print.
The book recounts Mr. Sleazy’s U.K. exploits that turn raunchy casual sex into a spectator sport – all while sober. Often crowded nightclubs are the backdrop for messy orgasms, raging boners, passionate finger-blasts, and sweaty sex with girls the reader knows only as CURLY, FACE, BAKLAVA, and CHOCOLATE. Intentional irony at its finest, Sleazy contrasts the graphic descriptions of his female partners with the vague monikers he bestows upon them.
However, that’s because Aaron Sleazy himself is somewhat of an intentional irony as his own “sleazy” pseudonym only tells half the story, which I found out when I sat down with him in a packed Manhattan Starbucks for lattes and some explicit dialogue. Shamelessly, we discussed Sleazy Stories at length, much to the dismay of the old lady a table over, who stormed away from us shaking her head in disgust.
While Sleazy’s lecherous nature may shock the sensibilities of society proper, he also has a deep intellectual side, with a thorough fascination and understanding of sexuality and the female psyche that permeates both his writing and his character. So much so, I didn’t recognize him when we met. After enjoying his 184-page assault on chastity and sexual moderation, I was expecting a behemoth Aryan he-man.
Instead, Aaron Sleazy is dark, angular, and scruffy—looking more philosopher than vapid seducer. If a line exists between Tucker Max and Charles Bukowski, Penthouse Letters and Michel Foucault, exhibitionism and self-improvement, then Aaron Sleazy straddles it. And, as his book recounts, it’s not the only thing Sleazy’s straddling.
The reader will find a delicately aggressive blend of raw, unbridled sexuality tempered with reflective, insightful prose. Indeed, the lascivious paperback romp achieves its coherence from its savage honesty as Sleazy explores the outer limits of sexual possibility between strangers while simultaneously journeying inward, developing himself as a character, and, ultimately, a seducer.
I found the chapters where Sleazy didn’t get the girl as captivating as the ones where he’s having full intercourse in the middle of a busy nightclub. The strength of Sleazy Stories is not so much its shock value, but instead the subtle, objective vantage point in which Sleazy retells his exploits.
Moreover, the lessons Sleazy slowly reveals over the course of the book help translate his experience to the reader and put it into perspective. For me, Sleazy Stories is the modern male corollary to Nancy Friday’s My Secret Garden. For those unfamiliar with Friday’s 1973 provocative classic, it’s a tell-all anthology of sex fantasies from hundreds of anonymous women. Many women cite the book as sexually liberating, saying it gave them permission to accept (and enjoy) the sexuality society expects them to repress.
Although Aaron Sleazy is writing decades later, and to men who have much less sexual inhabitations, he still tackles a subject equally taboo and socially unacceptable. Most men refuse to act on their sexuality, not because it’s repressed, but because doing so with strangers, in public, is condemned as obscene and vulgar. In a later chapter appropriately titled “A 16-year-old sucked me off in a toilet. Thrice.” after finishing in the toilet, Sleazy recounts a confrontation with an “onlooker”:
“PEEPING TOM was still around, shouting after me, “What took you so long, loser?”, as I exited the stall with her in tow. Well, I am not the one who has to resort to porn. I did not even look at him as I did not see the need to acknowledge him.
That passage typifies Sleazy Stories as well as Aaron Sleazy himself. So many men act out their sexual desires in socially acceptable ways like porn, traditional dating, or even studying weak-sauce pickup materials. Not only does Sleazy Stories throw the gauntlet down on sexually insecure men, but Sleazy himself is constantly challenging the detrimental concepts and ass-backwards teaching floating around the pickup community and dating advice industry.
Ultimately, if you’re ready to accept the truth about male and female sexuality, you’re ready to read Sleazy Stories. The ridiculous escapades and outrageous depictions may lure you in, but the philosophical underpinnings and subtle social criticism will stay with you, long after you put the slim paperback down. Sleazy Stories stands as a testament not only to Sleazy’s uninhibited confidence, but also his keen understanding and deep appreciation of human sexuality. But be warned, only read this book when you’re ready to reevaluate your sexual mores. Or else you’re no different than PEEPING TOM, jacking off to porn and harassing Sleazy after a 16-year-old sucked him off in a toilet. Thrice.
About Rob J. Rob J. is a writer and dating instructor in New York City. Themes that resonate in both his teaching and writing are masculinity, genuineness, rational self-interest, and general awesomeness.