Toward the end of tenth grade, John [Crowell] came up with a foolproof plan to get me laid: Tina Potts . . . One of the poorer girls in school, she had a slouched, sunken posture that advertised her insecurity and internal misery, as if she had been abused as a child. All she had going for her were big tits, tight jeans that showed off her bovine ass and, according to John, she fucked — which was good enough for me. So I began talking to Tina . . .
After a few weeks, I worked up the nerve to ask her to meet me in the park . . .
We sat down on the side of a hill. Instantly, we began making out, and within minutes I had my hand down her pants. The first thing that went through my mind was how hairy she was. Maybe she didn't have a mother to teach her about shaving her bikini line. The next thing that went through my mind as I was fingering her and squeezing her tits was that I was on the verge of coming in my pants because I was so close to getting laid. To keep from losing it, I suggested that we take a walk.
We ambled downhill to a baseball diamond and, underneath a tree just behind home plate, I maneuvered her to the ground, not even realizing the significance of where we were. I wrestled with her tight pants, eventually peeling them off her ass, then pulled my pants down to my knees and tore open the faded package of grandfather's crusty rubber as if it were a Cracker Jack prize. Placing myself between her yawning legs, I began to slide inside her. Just the thrill of penetration was enough to make me orgasm, and before I was even in all the way, it was over. It was literally pump and dump. (Canton, Ohio, mid-1980s)
from The Long Hard Road Out of Hell, by Marilyn Manson with Neil Strauss (Regan Books/HarperCollins, © 1998)
© 2001 Nerve.com, Inc.
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