“Oh, polio was really bad when I was a k** in Kentucky. We were out in the sticks and there weren’t too many doctors or hospitals or public health people around and nobody knew what to do about polio anyway, except close all the swimming pools in the summertime. I was lucky, really. It messed up my leg, but other than that I’m okay, but it killed k**s I knew, Sylvia. It was really bad. My dad wanted me to play football (laughing)well, with my bum leg, that wasn’t gonna happen, but he was still kind of pissed at me’ cause, you know, to play football you have to wear those football pants that stop at the knees, and there I would be with one good leg and one weird one.’ We were both laughing then. “So I taught myself to dance. It’s kind of like riding a bicycle, Sylvia. If you stop moving on a bike, you fall over. but once you get going, you can ride across the country on two wheels. Well, I can really dance on one wheel. I only need this crutch when I’m walking down the street or here in the supermarket.” ‘I had never met anyone like him. “Yeah, I taught myself how to juggle, too, so I bounce around to the music, sometimes I pick things up and juggle them.” We passed by the citrus, Roger picked up four lemons. “Here hold this” handing me the crutch. He did a turn with incredible grace on one leg, and when he turned again. he was bouncing on his foot and juggling a cascade of four lemons. I didn’t know what this guy could do with sex, but I was completely taken, right then, right there. I didn’t want to ask him if his dick and balls worked, looking at the way he moved, I was quite sure I would have a nice surprise in a little while. Roger, what do you do?” “well I have a job with PG&E, an office jb, and that pays the bills, but what my partner and I really do is k**’s birthday parties. For some reason, k**s love this guy who bounces around on one leg like a pogo stick, juggles, makes faces and tells jokes and does some songs, Don and I steal some Abbot and Costello and Laurel and Hardy gags, which of course, they stole from somewhere…it probably goes back to Sophocles..Oh, yeah, I fall down a lot, too. but I’m really good at that. I can fall on my ass and juggle four balls and not lose one’ Sylvia thought: “Cool” Sylvia: “Can I ask you? Are you homosexual?” “Well, that’s a good one. I think some people have a little of both in their personalities. I do. Don does. We don’t have sex very often with each other, but we do sometimes. I don’t have sex with any other men, I’m more attracted to women, but Don and I share a bed. “And?” We see each other’s bodies all the time, you know, our boners, our beating off, and that’s great with me. “Are you going to spend the night at Ida’s?” “Well, I hope so. It would be a shame for her to have to drive us all the way across the bridge to go home….Do you want me to stay?” I looked him in the eye “Yeah, Roger, I would love that.” Roger made a clown face of being surprised and fell to the floor. In less than ten seconds, he was on his leg again. People shopping at the University Avenue co-op that day didn’t know what to do, but when they saw Roger’s beaming stage smile, they decided that help did not need to be summoned. “I’m like fucking Davy Crockett” he laughed, “I just grin ’em down!” At that moment, there was nobody I wanted be filling my ass and my puss more than this crazy guy!” “Don’t you have to use a brace or something?” “Well, yeah, for a long time I wore the damn thing. I never liked it, even though it gave me a lot more stability. Then I decided that perhaps “stability” was not the most important thing in my world. I still wear it to work and if I’m doing a lot of walking on asphalt or concrete, but I’m working on doing away with it, and just keeping my balance with my stick”, he said, holding up the crutch. “Sometimes if I’m tired I have to use two sticks, but the longer I stay with the yoga, the better my balance seems to be. I can walk on my hands all over my house if I get tired of using my leg. I fall down a lot, too, and I just accept that, though I didn’t use to. To me now, it’s like learning another language, you just have to stumble around before you get to be good at it, but when you are, voila!..there you are! Let’s see what our friends are up to?” And with that, Roger crow-hopped gracefully over to the checkout counter, where Woody, Ida, and Dulce were waiting with a cartload of groceries.
Ida’s Crosely was overflowing with crates, people and now, six bags of groceries, so Roger and I decided to take advantage of the beautiful evening and walk to Ida’s house, about fifteen blocks. Nobody asked Roger if he was sure he could do it or anything like that. He just wasn’t that kind of guy. I wanted to walk with him, be with him, hold his hand, bump hips and butts with him, kiss and put my tongue down his throat, have his hand graze my ass walking down the street. We couldn’t do all that stuff, but we most definitely got to the ass grazing and kissing part. I brushed the front of his jeans with the back of my hand, trying (but of course it wasn’t) trying to make it not seem totally intentional. I felt a nice firm not quite full-on boner in there, and that told me what I needed to know. He fell twice while we were walking, but he was up on his one good leg so fast, I barely registered it happening. We stopped to kiss again on San Pablo, in front of the barbeque place near the corner. “Roger, I’m not a virgin. I have a really big appetite, I like men and women. I’ll tell you right now, I’ve been having some sex, really nice, with Ida and with Dulce, too. Ida has a really big bed…” “Yeah, I know…” “You and Ida…? “Well sometimes…” “And Dulce?’ “She is so lovely, don’t you think?” “She is a wonderful lover, Roger. ” “That she is, Sylvia, that she is. I’m not in love with her, or Ida, for that matter, but she is the kind of woman who can be so loving that after I am away from her, her essence clings to me, like some kind of exotic fragrance. I love her, but she doesn’t need to hear that stuff all the time. Dulce says good fucking is enough for her.” “I want you to fuck me, Roger, I’m not being coy…” He kissed me again. Maybe yoga makes you a better kisser? Who knows? It was one of those kisses that a lot of guys wish they did or maybe brag about, but don’t really do right. Roger’s kiss made me want to get my pants off right out there on the fucking sidewalk. It was twilight. The shadows there were dark enough so I thought nobody would see. I reached down and gave him a nice girly grope. I knew I couldn’t get his pants down and suck him off as soon as we walked through the door.. at Ida’s house…..or could I?” As soon as we got inside, Roger said; “How about I fuck you right here, on the hallway floor, in front of everybody? Would you like that?” I hadn’t had any penis and vagina sex in about two and one-half weeks, a long dry stretch for me in those days. I was imagining the sex with Roger in a nice big bed, and maybe that was still going to happen, but this? On the floor, with everyone standing around watching? I was hesitant for at least three seconds, and then I let my fantasies attach themselves to Roger’s suggestion. Maybe all of them would humiliate me the way I liked. I was getting kind of giddy about what was swirling around in my imagination. All I had done was kiss Roger and grope him a little, and now I was ready for all three or four of them to do me on the coast- to- coast TV, fucking me, peeing on me, and whatever else they could think up. I was so volatile in those days; one sweet kiss like I got from Roger and I was ready to do the dirty hootchie-koo all day long. Without another word, I lay down on the runner that covered the hardwood floor and pulled Roger down on me. I wanted to be fucked, that I was sure of, and I thought that if I did it out here, in front of everybody, it would really get the party off the ground, but what I really wanted was to have Roger kiss me again like he had a few minutes ago. I was s*******n, Ida was forty-two. We did not quite agree on the wonder of spontaneity. She was not pleased by what she saw on her hallway, on the Persian runner that she, herself, had rescued from the tide flats and had personally restored. “SYLVIA! ROGER! What the fucking hell? No, no, no, no, not here, not yet, we’re making a great dinner. We’ll get there, okay? JESUS!” Roger bounced back up like he was SLINKYMAN or something. He gave all his cheerful attention now to Ida. I got up all pouty. Ida had just messed up my fun and my performance, and now I wasn’t going to be quite the star of the show that I wanted. I had to retreat to the bathroom to sulk for about twenty minutes. I smelled something wonderful cooking, and in my young life, I had never ever had the delicious food that I tasted at Ida’s, so my pouty sulk turned into a desire to be fed. I was willing to put my desire to get laid on hold for a while, perhaps not too much longer. Ida had told me that women in our family had libidos like men, and, after she explained to me what “libido” meant, I began to think she was right! We had a great meal with some stuff called “tofu” that I never had eaten before and “spaghetti squash” (whatever that was) and greens, butter and soy sauce, plus some wine and hash and the rest of Mrs. Robinson’s sweet potato pie. It was a strange meal for me, but everyone else there was laughing and telling stories and talking over each other. That was a little like home, anyway, and by time Ida got her other ball of hash and the projector out, I ready to go on with things. I still wanted a lot of attention, though, but I was pretty sure I was going to get it.
The second movie also had Ruth Howard in it, but this one had FRENCH subtitle cards. She was a little bit older in this one, and the production of the film was much more sophisticated. It had been obviously made by artists. Ida used the word “surrealists”‘ which I had never heard before,, Ruth was in all kinds of nude poses, there was weird lighting and super close-ups of her face and her eyes. Sometimes a giant pair of scissors floated by in the sky, and sometimes a disembodied woman’s lipstick smile was floating there too. Ruth was a sex teacher who traveled around the French countryside, meeting young girls and teaching them about sex from a women’s perspective; how to please themselves, how to please each other. I was getting so horny seeing my own beloved grandmother, a young woman herself, eating the pussies of all these French girls. Ruth was small, busty, and very sexual, and I couldn’t quite tell which of the peasant girls were faking their orgasms and who was really cumming. It looked to me as if all of them were!. My grandmother was about twenty-two. I had my hand in my pants after a few minutes. It was getting pretty slippery down there. I pulled my hand out of my pants and licked my fingers. Yep, I was getting turned on again! After a while, I stopped seeing Ruth as my grandmother. She was just a sexually adventurous young woman. I looked around. Dulce had her hand down in the panties, like me, and the guys had big boner bulges but were still in their pants. Ida was walking around, talking about French surrealist filmmakers and Ruth. For reasons I don’t understand, I had this picture of unzipping Roger, and just having him get busy and fuck my mouth. Not a blow job exactly, something like a BJ, but more filthy and nasty. Roger with his cock in my throat, snapping his hips and making me choke and gag. I told you before that this was exactly what I had been craving. He seemed like a very nice man, but when he fucked my mouth and throat like that, slamming his cock into my face so that his balls were bouncing off my chin that is just what I had been craving. If he had talked mean to me or slapped my tits, it would have been perfect, but this was the first time I had been with Roger. I had had enough first-time fucking in my young life to understand that I had nothing to complain about!