Thursday, November 03, 2005
Ms. KAR (Pt.2)
When my new friend K and I started hanging out together in L.A., it became apparent early on why she wanted to go into acting. She had a small speech impediment, a kind of stutter. You hardly ever noticed it, until she felt incredibly pressured by situations. Then you could hear it in every sentence she uttered. Painfully so.
It represented a challenge to her, and Ms. KAR liked challenges.
About the time she and I became acquainted, she began one with J, a youngish 40-something tycoon. The guy was cute, but short. And like many short guys, it ruled a lot of his life. He was aggressive in running his company, but withdrawn emotionally. He made Fortune Magazine's top 40 list of hot business guys on the way up. He drove a black Rolls Royce and lived in an expensive high-rise apartment on the Wilshire corridor in west L.A.
Many women had tried to land him. K probably came the closest, before she realized he had severe emotional problems and declined to go further with him.
She told me a story about him once, where J took a woman he had just met to a posh party in New York City. The woman, apparently unbeknownst to J, had a bisexual streak in her. She met another woman at the same party, and after a short discussion the two of them decided they were going off to amuse themselves in another part of the mansion.
Yum yum. I like this story, don't you?
This did not bother J, at first. He thought the women would invite him along. He asked if he could watch. They basically said, fuck off, and away they went.
It was the most cutting rejection J had ever received in his entire life, so he told K later. I feel his pain. Women can be mean, although part of me would love to meet a woman under those circumstances. But I don't think I would diss my own male partner.
I found it interesting that J told Ms. KAR that story. Why did he do that? I had my own thoughts, so I asked her. She interpreted it exactly the way I did, which was that J was looking to repeat that scenario with Ms. KAR. Only this time he would not be tossed out of the bedroom.
He told her that story as a way of feeling her out on the subject. That was our "take."
I never did meet J. But the more K told me about him, the more it sounded like he and I had a lot in common. My own sexual identity at that time was not quite on an even keel, and neither was J's. But I felt like I was further along in being comfortable with things.
J may have been a somewhat closeted bi guy. K told me he really liked having anal sex. K did not have strong feelings against this particular sexual activity, she had not experienced it very much at all. But it was the way he went about it that turned her off the whole thing. It bothered her that he seemed not to like physically facing her when they had sex. This became a subtle metaphor I felt for how she came to perceive J. He was stunted emotionally, as he felt he was physically, by being short. For K, it became a sign that he could not really accept her, emotionally.
Had I been as experienced then as I feel I am now with this style of lovemaking, I would have told her that anal sex can be quite erotic, it feels deeply connective in a way that regular intercourse does not. At least for me. It does not have to have a power element going on. My partner D and I probably explore this region as much out of curiosity as for adventure. I never feel that dominance/submission is the main element when D and I have anal sex.
But K did, and it really troubled her that J liked so much of that. Even had she switched positions, and been on her back, it probably still would have felt like a power situation. Just because J's personality made it that way.
In his early life, J had very little control over anything. He came from a Jewish family, fairly well off, in Czechoslovakia. They fled when the Russians invaded. J remembers how they stowed away on a freighter on their way eventually to Israel. He was about six at the time. His mother hid him in a crate on the deck, gave him a peach and warned him to not toss the pit away onto the deck. That would have revealed his hiding place.
When you're a terrified six year old and your world is already falling away around you, and all you can cling to is the pit of a peach, I guess you would want to grow up and become the baddest kid on the block. Whether in boardroom or bedroom.
TO BE CONTINUED
It represented a challenge to her, and Ms. KAR liked challenges.
About the time she and I became acquainted, she began one with J, a youngish 40-something tycoon. The guy was cute, but short. And like many short guys, it ruled a lot of his life. He was aggressive in running his company, but withdrawn emotionally. He made Fortune Magazine's top 40 list of hot business guys on the way up. He drove a black Rolls Royce and lived in an expensive high-rise apartment on the Wilshire corridor in west L.A.
Many women had tried to land him. K probably came the closest, before she realized he had severe emotional problems and declined to go further with him.
She told me a story about him once, where J took a woman he had just met to a posh party in New York City. The woman, apparently unbeknownst to J, had a bisexual streak in her. She met another woman at the same party, and after a short discussion the two of them decided they were going off to amuse themselves in another part of the mansion.
Yum yum. I like this story, don't you?
This did not bother J, at first. He thought the women would invite him along. He asked if he could watch. They basically said, fuck off, and away they went.
It was the most cutting rejection J had ever received in his entire life, so he told K later. I feel his pain. Women can be mean, although part of me would love to meet a woman under those circumstances. But I don't think I would diss my own male partner.
I found it interesting that J told Ms. KAR that story. Why did he do that? I had my own thoughts, so I asked her. She interpreted it exactly the way I did, which was that J was looking to repeat that scenario with Ms. KAR. Only this time he would not be tossed out of the bedroom.
He told her that story as a way of feeling her out on the subject. That was our "take."
I never did meet J. But the more K told me about him, the more it sounded like he and I had a lot in common. My own sexual identity at that time was not quite on an even keel, and neither was J's. But I felt like I was further along in being comfortable with things.
J may have been a somewhat closeted bi guy. K told me he really liked having anal sex. K did not have strong feelings against this particular sexual activity, she had not experienced it very much at all. But it was the way he went about it that turned her off the whole thing. It bothered her that he seemed not to like physically facing her when they had sex. This became a subtle metaphor I felt for how she came to perceive J. He was stunted emotionally, as he felt he was physically, by being short. For K, it became a sign that he could not really accept her, emotionally.
Had I been as experienced then as I feel I am now with this style of lovemaking, I would have told her that anal sex can be quite erotic, it feels deeply connective in a way that regular intercourse does not. At least for me. It does not have to have a power element going on. My partner D and I probably explore this region as much out of curiosity as for adventure. I never feel that dominance/submission is the main element when D and I have anal sex.
But K did, and it really troubled her that J liked so much of that. Even had she switched positions, and been on her back, it probably still would have felt like a power situation. Just because J's personality made it that way.
In his early life, J had very little control over anything. He came from a Jewish family, fairly well off, in Czechoslovakia. They fled when the Russians invaded. J remembers how they stowed away on a freighter on their way eventually to Israel. He was about six at the time. His mother hid him in a crate on the deck, gave him a peach and warned him to not toss the pit away onto the deck. That would have revealed his hiding place.
When you're a terrified six year old and your world is already falling away around you, and all you can cling to is the pit of a peach, I guess you would want to grow up and become the baddest kid on the block. Whether in boardroom or bedroom.
TO BE CONTINUED
