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| Marilu Henner, actress |
Slippery |
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In July between my junior and senior years [of high school], on the night of NASA's first lunar landing, I made some history of my own: while three astronauts were taking one giant step for mankind and bathing in immortal glory on the dusty desert surface of the moon, I was showering in mortal sin in a steamy, soapy bathroom near Lincoln Park.
I had met Buddy, a cute, smirking, seductive actor several years older than I, at a theater company I was working for. One night we were strolling through Lincoln Park and he suddenly scooped me up and wrapped me around his body. Buddy was like that — a spontaneous, passionate, sexy, slow-motion montage. He told me he was going to take me home, that it was a good time to cool off . . .
We started making out, and next thing I knew we were practicing the venial taking-a-shower-together. But once our bodies got all soaped up and slippery, I got to a fever pitch of fondling and pure sensation and was ready to explode. I just couldn't wait any longer. If this meant I was going to hell, at least I was showing up all clean and scrubbed.
Buddy then pressed me against the wall of the shower, and it happened. It felt so slippery, so natural, so inevitable, so good. And yet, for all the buildup and fantasies, it wasn't nearly as big a deal as I had imagined, probably because I'd already made it about 96 percent of the way there during other sessions . . .
When we were finished, and drying off, I said, "I guess we've done it."
"Yeah, I guess so," Buddy said with a smile.
"So why don't we get out of the bathroom and go into your bedroom and do it right?" I asked. He had no argument there. We went to bed and made love two more times.
Afterward, all Buddy wanted to know was whether I had had an orgasm. All I wanted to know was whether the nuns would look at me and be able to tell. (Chicago, 1969)
from By All Means Keep on Moving, by Marilu Henner (Pocket Star Books, © 1994)
© 2000 Nerve.com, Inc.
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