Today's Confession is a tad rated R, just saying.
I'll call him STARDUST .
Stardust worked for me as a designer for a few of my shows. I also got him hooked up as a fellow DJ where he spun Jazz records. He was also in the October zone (you'll have to go back to previous posts, if you haven't been keeping up to what that means. I think it was October 5). He always had an adventure planned-- and often times what we did was tresspassing. I would skip school on a beautiful autumn day to have a picnic after exploring a quarry, hike Yellowwood, climb Cedar Bluff, walk Sycamore Landtrust, traipse through the Sculpture Gardens in Solisbury. And in all of these places we had steamy sex. It was exhilarating and exciting, knowing that someone could come along any second and catch us. We didn't care. Sometimes he would just hold me up and we did it standing while I straddled his legs. On chairs, in showers, public bathrooms, in the studio--
One time he was on air and I came over to the studio wearing only a trench coat. He found a long song to play on air and, well, you know. Sex. I think he was the first person to consistanly give me vaginal orgasms. We were sexually compatible. Before STARDUST I usually either faked it or just let the guy finish and that was it. Imagine going through 36 odd years and never really having a clue what sex was supposed to feel like. The EX called me ASEXUAL. Yep. Let that one sit for a minute.
STARDUST showed me what sex was supposed to be like.
He was the one who left me stranded in the D.C. Museum with my baggage locked in a locker. He was manipulative and liked to mess with people in bad ways. He was a sabotager.
Occasionally I will get a post card from STARDUST from Germany or some far away place he is visiting. Or an email will land in my inbox wishing me happy birthday signed:
OLIVE JUICE(If you mouth the words it looks like I Love You.
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