"I was just leaving the Victoria's Secret holiday party, you know at the 21 Club, and I was trying hail a cab when a cold blast of air blew up my skir...t. I heard a lusty chuckle, kind of juvenile sounding and a sack was pulled over my head. It got strange after that. True, I had a few drinks at the party, but not that many. I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew I was draped over the front of a sleigh that was pulled by a bunch of deer on steroids and some guy was fucking me from. I sat down and wrapped them around my head, facing the wall as well.“Okay,” she said quietly. I heard her moving about, opening her suitcase, apparently getting dressed. She talked to herself as she did, but not distinctly enough for me to know what she was saying. Then she was silent. The minutes dragged on.“Alright, I’m dressed,” she said finally.Uncovering my head, I saw her sitting at the foot of the bed. We just looked at each other for a while.“Julia, I have known you—and cared about. "gonna suck on my titties?" she asked me I squeezed those boobies together and sucked on them, I took her by the hand and spun her around just to see that plump ass of hers."Lauren brotz" i said big ass booty. i led her over to my bed and she lay down on her back as I put on a Trojans ENZ condom and got on top of her and pressed my dickhead against her super slippery pussy lips."urghhhhhh" i exclaimed as i positioned myself on top of her, I've never had sex with a woman taller than me she's 5. Let me tell you what really happened.It was April or May, 1977. (Or it might have been 1978. I don't know. I don't keep a diary.) They were playing at some dump in Tampa, of all places. About half-an-hour into the show, some fat asshole in the back yelled, "Go fuck yourselves, faggots!" Before I tell you what happened next, let me tell you about what Suicide shows were like in the early-to-mid Seventies. Picture two leather-clad guys, one scowling and torturing an organ, the other striding.