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...last guy I dated always wanted to put his balls atop my face. I’d lie down and he’d lean over me so that his taint, balls and hairy ass crack were all that I could see. He’d sort of plié down toward me, and I’d have to snap my teeth at his balls, try to catch them in my jaws before he pulled away. That...
...time I guess I sort of got into it. Funny sex, I mean. I had this boyfriend who couldn’t get it up. I was nineteen and loved his guts...
...tried some things. Rape scenarios didn’t work for him, and I didn’t like them because he always forgot to hold my hands down. We tried a little girl-older man thing, and we both sort of liked that but felt bad for liking it. The only thing that really worked was this doctor-nurse behavior. I called him Dr. Cock, up it went, and we’d have a few minutes to work. I always had to lie perfectly still (changing positions turned him flaccid all over again) and whisper, Dr. Cock...
...draws my picture, which is good, I think. It gives me a big nose, which I sort of think I have, but she keeps on mumbling, “No the nose is all wrong, all wrong,” and wringing out her hands. I buy her a drink, and she writes me a message on an index card. “I write backwards,” she explains, and tells me to go read it in the bathroom mirror. I do, and it’s nothing naughty or exciting, just saying I have really white teeth...
...social and economic lives of Harvard students in the real world: Not only is it perceived as being the natural—often default—next stop in the lives of the young graduates of elite colleges, but New York’s glossiness also indicates a sort of ultimate achievement of the cosmopolitan refinement and worldliness that Harvard students work so hard to cultivate and realize...