Hate-fucking: the act of having sex with someone you fucking hate. It's usually with someone you once loved or still love, or simply hate after a bad break-up, but it can also be someone you met in a bar who you instantly despise as person but find stupidly sexually attractive.
The sex itself is usually rough and a physical embodiment of the hatred and/or disdain you have for the other person. The best hate-fucking usually happens when both parties hate each other equally and all notions of common decency are postponed for the duration of the act. Obviously, it all still needs to b consensual, otherwise it's no longer called hate-fucking.
Now we've got that out of the way, how about some examples? Good: we spoke to some people about the best, or worst, hate-fuck they have ever had.
Maybe four or five years ago, a friend tried to bring me two suitors as a housewarming gift when I moved into a new flat. One got drunk and threw red wine on my wall, then asked me to fuck him in the park when I carted him to the taxi bank and out of my house, so he was obviously struck off. The other, however, seemed interesting, which I later realised was simply due to the fact that we hardly spoke before playing tonsil hockey in my kitchen.
We didn't have sex that night – I ended up having a threesome with two unrelated parties – but he did the classic rom-com move of leaving behind a bit of clothing at my flat. Intrigued, I brought it to him at his flat across town and quickly realised my mistake. He was awful – his opinions, his voice, his mannerisms. He repeatedly referred to Beyoncé's husband as "Jay-Zed" and insisted it was his right as a Brit to do so.
Obviously I ended up kissing him once again to make him stop spouting nonsense, fucked him then boarded a night bus 20 minutes after it was over and never saw him again. I think the primary reason I fucked him was to see if common sense and decency are sexually transmitted. Spoiler alert: they aren't.
I had just rekindled things with an ex after he'd split with his latest girlfriend – it was one of those romances that's on and off for years, and overall a bit toxic for everyone involved. I slept with him and just knew that it would be the last time. We'd had angry sex before, but this was totally different. Instead of the romantic sex we used to have – mutually-assured orgasm sex – he looked at me as a set of body parts with well-placed orifices, like a sex doll, and didn't want to please me anymore, but only himself. He was calling me a "slut" and insulting my body while fucking me. I felt like an object.
I think that sometimes people don't realise the longer-term implications of hate-fucking and should probably think twice about it in a lot of cases.
I decided to spend a summer living in New York a few years back, and one hot night I headed out to a bar with the explicit aim of getting laid. A couple drinks down and I got talking to this really hot girl, with the British accent obviously doing bits for me. A few more drinks in, and it transpires that she's a former IDF solider, and I'm a Middle Eastern Muslim. We spend the next hour outside the bar having a screaming row about Israel and Palestine, and just when I was about to sack it off she pushes me against the wall and starts kissing me. I was pretty surprised and also a bit disgusted at myself, but I was horny and drunk so… I hailed a cab back to her place. We spent the rest of the night having incredible, angry sex. It was like a much hotter version of that Curb Your Enthusiasm episode where Larry David has sex with a Palestinian woman. I'm not proud of it.
The best hate-fuck I ever had was with an ex who cheated on me; we'd had an argument, and during the two weeks we weren't talking she slept with some fuckboi she worked with. I was pure raging and told her to fuck off, but about two weeks later I ended up back at hers after talking on the phone a bit. We started beating again and that, then she came round mine just before my birthday and gave me brain. I'm not gonna lie, it was next to the best sex I've ever had. It felt like them ones when you ain't beat for weeks and there's some mad build up, and then at the same time the girl you've been trying to link for years is like, "Yo, come round and open me up like a village fete." That kinda feeling, but every time we beat for those two or three weeks. Then I ghosted her.
Literally every time I, a brown woman, have sex with a white man.
Me and my first ever boyfriend had a really fucked-up relationship, which carried on for about a year after we officially broke up, in the form of regular, mind-blowing hate fucking. Neither of us had any respect for each other by this point, and would purposely do things to piss each other off even more than we already were by virtue of being broken up. He would constantly hit on other girls in front of my face when we were at parties, and I would do the same, making sure he was watching.
One night, after a few hours of this at a house party, he pulled me into a room and I spat in his face. He pushed me up against a wall, put his hand around my throat and literally ripped my underwear off (I was wearing a skirt). I'm not going to go into any more detail, but what happened next was probably the best sex I've ever had, before or since. God, I fucking hate him.