to each other that people have to do before they can really groove on each other’s bodies.
I could have come a couple of times before I finally did, but I waited, and we got there together. Strangely enough after all of that it was not overpowering, not designed to knock me unconscious or anything like that, but very enjoyable and clean feeling and happy making all the same.
Revelation: Sometimes one (i.e., me) does not want to have a big orgasm because it is too much of a surrender of self. Of ego. The little part of you inside your head does not want to let go all the way. Question: Is that why women are frigid? That same kind of holding back?
I am learning things about myself and the world. Maybe they are things everyone else already knows—I sometimes get that feeling, that I am in fact some sort of retarded child. But I am changing. I feel myself changing. Every day I find myself somehow no longer the child I was yesterday.
Scary.
But Arnold and his weirdness. Afterward we were lying on the bed together. I have naturally told him things about myself, not hiding anything in particular, merely being a little reticent about details. Now he begins to ask sex questions.
“Can I ask you something, Jan? Ever make it with a girl?”
“No.”
“Honestly? Not even once?”
“Of course not. I’m probably a lot of things, but not a lesbian. Why?”
“I wondered.”
“I impress you as a lesbian? I’m not sure that’s a compliment, love.”
“Oh, as a matter of fact, you’re wrong.”
“Really?”
“Mmm-hmmm. Most really sensual women have had a homosexual experience somewhere along the line. High school or college. A drunken thing with a roommate or a crush on a teacher or some sort of thing.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Your observation or Kinsey’s?”
“I suppose mine, but I don’t think it’s original with me, or that it strikes a blow at established theories. Everybody’s supposed to be basically bisexual, you know.”
“I’m sure I never felt anything that way.”
“Maybe not. Ever have any experience with group sex?”
“You mean wife swapping? Suburban sin clubs? I suppose some of that does go on—”
“You better believe it does.”
“But I never had firsthand evidence of it. In our crowd there was some occasional groping at parties and there may have been some affairs on the sly, but no Westport Roulette.”
“Is that what they’re calling it now?”
“Isn’t it? You know, with the keys in the hat?”
“I guess so.”
“Is that what you meant?”
“Not exactly. I meant, you know, more than two people in the bed.”
“Like an orgy?”
“Well, like three.”
“No, never.”
Looking off into the distance, “I knew this girl with an absolute passion for going to bed with two men at once. She told me she had done it a couple of times and it was fantastically exciting to her.”
“Two men at once?”
“Yes.”
“You mean one right after the other?”
“I mean two at once.”
“I don’t see exactly what sort of thing they would do.”
“Well, use your imagination.”
“I’m sorry, I’m stupid tonight. But they couldn’t both get into her at the very same time, could they? I don’t see—”
“There is, how to say this, there is more than one aperture in a girl, love.”
“Oh, one in the mouth.”
“Or one here.”
“I never thought of that.”
“Haven’t you there?”
“Never. It’s painful, isn’t it?”
“Not if you know what you’re doing.”
“I’m not sure I see the appeal.”
“You weren’t sure about the calamari, either.”
“Touché. I must admit I’m interested. I don’t know if I’m personally interested or if it’s just that I like to hear what different people do in bed. They would both make love to her?”
“And to each other.”
“Oh, then they were queer?”
“Everybody’s bisexual, they say.”
“Do you really believe that? I’m not sure I do.”
“Well, that’s the new sexual
I could have come a couple of times before I finally did, but I waited, and we got there together. Strangely enough after all of that it was not overpowering, not designed to knock me unconscious or anything like that, but very enjoyable and clean feeling and happy making all the same.
Revelation: Sometimes one (i.e., me) does not want to have a big orgasm because it is too much of a surrender of self. Of ego. The little part of you inside your head does not want to let go all the way. Question: Is that why women are frigid? That same kind of holding back?
I am learning things about myself and the world. Maybe they are things everyone else already knows—I sometimes get that feeling, that I am in fact some sort of retarded child. But I am changing. I feel myself changing. Every day I find myself somehow no longer the child I was yesterday.
Scary.
But Arnold and his weirdness. Afterward we were lying on the bed together. I have naturally told him things about myself, not hiding anything in particular, merely being a little reticent about details. Now he begins to ask sex questions.
“Can I ask you something, Jan? Ever make it with a girl?”
“No.”
“Honestly? Not even once?”
“Of course not. I’m probably a lot of things, but not a lesbian. Why?”
“I wondered.”
“I impress you as a lesbian? I’m not sure that’s a compliment, love.”
“Oh, as a matter of fact, you’re wrong.”
“Really?”
“Mmm-hmmm. Most really sensual women have had a homosexual experience somewhere along the line. High school or college. A drunken thing with a roommate or a crush on a teacher or some sort of thing.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Your observation or Kinsey’s?”
“I suppose mine, but I don’t think it’s original with me, or that it strikes a blow at established theories. Everybody’s supposed to be basically bisexual, you know.”
“I’m sure I never felt anything that way.”
“Maybe not. Ever have any experience with group sex?”
“You mean wife swapping? Suburban sin clubs? I suppose some of that does go on—”
“You better believe it does.”
“But I never had firsthand evidence of it. In our crowd there was some occasional groping at parties and there may have been some affairs on the sly, but no Westport Roulette.”
“Is that what they’re calling it now?”
“Isn’t it? You know, with the keys in the hat?”
“I guess so.”
“Is that what you meant?”
“Not exactly. I meant, you know, more than two people in the bed.”
“Like an orgy?”
“Well, like three.”
“No, never.”
Looking off into the distance, “I knew this girl with an absolute passion for going to bed with two men at once. She told me she had done it a couple of times and it was fantastically exciting to her.”
“Two men at once?”
“Yes.”
“You mean one right after the other?”
“I mean two at once.”
“I don’t see exactly what sort of thing they would do.”
“Well, use your imagination.”
“I’m sorry, I’m stupid tonight. But they couldn’t both get into her at the very same time, could they? I don’t see—”
“There is, how to say this, there is more than one aperture in a girl, love.”
“Oh, one in the mouth.”
“Or one here.”
“I never thought of that.”
“Haven’t you there?”
“Never. It’s painful, isn’t it?”
“Not if you know what you’re doing.”
“I’m not sure I see the appeal.”
“You weren’t sure about the calamari, either.”
“Touché. I must admit I’m interested. I don’t know if I’m personally interested or if it’s just that I like to hear what different people do in bed. They would both make love to her?”
“And to each other.”
“Oh, then they were queer?”
“Everybody’s bisexual, they say.”
“Do you really believe that? I’m not sure I do.”
“Well, that’s the new sexual
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