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she stared at s. standing there naked in front of the mirror.
"you are a regular adonis. maybe just a little short in the thigh compared to

your lower legs, but very handsome." another one night stand for s. . this

time she was a journalist who had picked him up at a gallery opening in

chelsea. she had a luxurious apartment with all the amenities of the single

rich. later s. learned that this was a 'cougar'. in her early thirties and very

sure of what she wanted.

you could say that cupid had his mischievous eye on s. from way back and s's

eyes themselves were aphrodesiac to him. he was first awakened to the

palliative effects of the fair sex in the mountains of jamaica. every sunday the

little school bus would go from knox college to the small church in

mandeville. he was the favorite of a lovely teenager. on all those sunday rides

she would hold him on her lap the whole way. of course her attachment to a

six year old boy was purest innocence and s. thrived on her sisterly

affection. he always arrived transported by love to a state of almost religious


drawing of gil gordon at the 'circle in the square'.

well, things were different now. s. was looking for love. and he was finding it

everywhere; at least in the form of sex. and girl tenderness obsessed him.

s. was always adoring someone, looking up to them with pure admiration; the

handsomeness of men and the often subtle beauties of the ladies.

the two donnas came into s's life simultaneously; one black, the other white.

the donnas were in their early twenties. s. drew black donna sleeping. his

pencil loving her watusi head and curls. she had enormous lips which

devoured his face. she used him sexually with a furious onslaught of hungry

desire. then she spit him out and rolled over like a man will do into deep sleep

immediately. she'd had her fill and lazily curls up in blissful sleep. and she

wanted him again and again through the night.

donna was a model at the art students league.

little donna was an uncommonly pretty milk white girl with brilliant blue eyes

and shiny black hair. she was short and plump as a georgia peach kissed by

the sun.

'doc' stanley had them making out on the rootop of the earl hotel overlooking

the park. it was supposed to be the prelude to a love scene in bed which never

came about. donna was fickle and s. drew the line at playing a part in doc's

skin flick.

then there was poor terry who got hooked on heroin and lost her bloom, her

sweet youth, in less than a few months after their affair. terry was seventeen and had the most beautiful red hair. she worked for a

music agent and had full run of the studio, offices and bedroom after hours.
then, when s. knew her they were like twins bopping around town in a moving

embrace, long coats and scarves flying, boots sloshing through the snow,

rosey cheeked in the biting city wind. both boasting the zest of carefree

adolescence. they traveled together everywhere with syncronized strides; a

lithe and spirited gait. and they were welcome everywhere. she bought him a

pair of 'wellingtons' the coolest boots you could buy. she bought him a

corduroy jacket of the most wonderful sienna hue. and they made love on

subways, hallways and in grassy glens at night in parks. but s. preferred the kingsize bed in the office

bedroom. a hot bath with incense and candles, some wine, some grass and billie holiday on

the state of the art sound system.

the shining sky father showered blessings on their free love. but s. was not

getting any work done.

bobby came to town and house sat at suffolk st. while s. went into the

mountains on a vision quest all alone for fourteen days.