Dating Sex

But what was wonderful about her was her sweetness and
compassion. She loved my delight in licking her cunt and found it
simply amazing that I wasn’t fixated on her tits. (I’d gotten over
my big-tit cravings when I was 17. See, I had this cousin, the same
age — But that, as Conan’s biographer would say, is another tale.)
So Barbie was coming to stay with me for a few days while she
visited friends in the city. I filled her in (in more ways than
one. Heh.) on what I’d been up to and we made love a lot. She
reveled in waking me one morning with her mouth locked on the tip
of my cock and sucked me off, drinking me moaning dry and then
sprawling on me and kissing my lips with my own cum on hers. We
slept again, till nearly one in the afternoon, and then made love,
with her on her face and a pillow under her hips, and then drowsed
till dark. I can still feel the wonderful weight of her breasts
pressed against me and the firmness of her ass under my fingers and
the wet heat of her cunt against my hip and the slightly salty —
from perspiration — taste of her ear when I kissed her awake that
night. I went out and bought the fixings and prepared an odd dinner
of broiled filet of sole, mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus.
Then we went back to bed and made love again. Barb, wherever you
are, you are precious. If you are not happy, call me and talk to
me. You saved my life and my heart and I want to do for you.

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I had seen her around the building from time to time. She had
a sweet face and a placid demeanor and seemed like a nice, plump
girl. I had no idea what kind of figureshe had, since she always
wore big, loose mu-mu dresses. At about 2:30 a.m. on the second
night of the blackout, after we had killed about two-thirds of a
bottle of cheap red wine that she’d brought, she announced she
really would prefer to stay with me rather than risk waking her
roommate (whom I’d always found more attractive) by coming home
late. Between the emotional shock of the breakup a few weeks before
and my weariness (an hour of sleep at a time was rare) and the
wine, I thought it sounded reasonable — and no more than that.
But in the darkness of my bedroom, I felt something against my
face, then something else. I stood and lit a candle and discovered
Barbie had absolutely enormous breasts. “Where did THOSE come
from?” I’d demanded. She’d laughed — gently, as with everything
else — and beckoned me back to bed. I was rather unprepared for
the body so carefully hidden under the loose, oversize dresses.
Imagine a woman who’s five foot tall, has 32-inch hips, a twenty-five
inch waist and a bra labeled 32-D … and who overflows the
brasierre’s cups.

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True, the day before she headed for JFK and her transAtlantic
flight, Annie and I lolled about in bed for about eighteen hours of
sexual bliss. True, June stopped by the very next day, flipped up
her skirt to reveal her pantyless cunt, grabbed her ankles and
winked at me upside down between her knees. But that was going to
be it.
Ahh well, I figured. I needed to spend more time at the
Selectric. And in a pinch, there were always the Palm Sisters and
Fond Memories. Hell, what was ten days? I told myself.
It could be a very long time, I told myself.
To my amazement, on the Thursday night that Annie left for
France and June left for Albany, I got a phone call from Philly:
Barbie Shelton was coming to town.
I had known Barb for about four years, at that point. She’d
lived with Bertha, also an NYU student, in the same building as me
during the Great Blackout of ‘77 and had come down to keep me
company. Bertha knew I had just had a very bad breakup and was
going — quite literally — crazy. Barbie saved my life. No shit —
I was seriously contemplating suicide when she decided to take me
under her wing.

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But things were not perfect. For one thing, their periods
coincided. No big deal, I thought, since it didn’t bother me,
either for fucking or sucking. But June was uncomfortable and Annie
got cranky. And that was the least of it.
See, while June was about to be tied up with her Jaycees
project, Annie was about to spend two weeks visiting friends in
France. She was doubly annoyed at the timing.
I, on the other hand, had gotten used to fucking two or three
times each day, sometimes with more than one woman — and now I was
looking forward (if that’s the right term) to about ten days of
Doing Without.

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