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ResidentSadist -> RE: Things that bring back memories (2/2/2013 10:40:31 AM)
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The Jag was awesome. Same year as I was born.
About the 4 girls. I was 15 years old when I discovered poly. I had girl (danita) that was a little crazy. She had MDP and was sexually . . . well, it is a long story. Anyway, if I had to try and put the core of my poly heart in a nutshell, it would come down to the following story. I was in love with Danita and then I met Lori. Danita and Lori did not know each other although they knew I was dating/sleeping other people. I fell in love with both of them. I sat each of them down and told them that my heart, not just my cock, had extended to include another. Danita said “I love you so much, I cannot bear to share your love with another”. Lori said "I love you so much, I would be happy to share you". I chose to be with danita who had seniority. I had made a mistake. I chose wrong. I chose a woman that valued control more than love. Giving up my control like that undermined the core of our D/s relationship and eventually it failed. Thus my first advanced lesson in love was learned in my early teens. I have tried not to make that mistake again in both choosing lovers and in being one. I listen to what mom said as a kid, "be nice, share". So from then on, I made life simple. I only dated girls that liked girls as much as I do.
So on one sharing filled night at the ripe old age of 16 or 17, with the limo parked just 20ft from the side door of the house, 4 naked girls streak out of the house into the car. It was our naked midnight fast food run to quench our after sex munchies. As luck would have it, a Grosse Pointe City cop turns the corner just as they made their dash to the car. Yup, he got an eye full and pulled over to the curb, spot lights blaring.
We were all under the drinking age of 18 but we smelled like wine. I mean we were literally soaked in wine. We weren't drunk, we just smelled like winos because we had been drinking it from each others' navels and any other parts that would hold wine. So not only are they naked, but it looks like I was about to drive a car after I had been drinking. Boy was he pissed... and all those underage naked girls made him nervous.
So there we are on my lawn. Fucking busted at my own house. Didn't even get that naked run to the drive through burger joint off the curb. Now the girls are wrapped in blankets because the cop had me go in the house and get something to cover the girls before he pulled them all out of the car. It was a cop that knew me . . . had a few sports car issues with him in the past. Anyway, after getting everyone's names and numbers while wrapped in blankets, the girls went in and got dressed. The party was broken up and parents were called.
All the parents came to my house to get those girls. I think the cop wanted them to know where I live hoping one them would kill me later and finally get me out of his hair. I had to face all those parents and return their daughter's. Imagine what the parents thought about what had been going on inside the house. What the fuck was I supposed to say to all those parents? . . . "thanks for letting me and my girlfriends gang bang your bisexual daughter. Sorry the orgy spilled over onto the lawn and got the cops involved to make a public spectacle of your slutty daughter's naked sexual debacle."
I bit the bullet, faced each parent. I apologized and told the parents it wasn't their daughter's fault. I said it was my idea and it was just a crazy teenage stunt, nothing truly immoral. The cop didn't go into details, just said "they weren't fully clothed." So maybe some of the parents thought it was just a topless streaking. Nonetheless, we all caught hell for it.
There is another limo & the authorities story near the end of the "long story" link. I loved that car. Lots of memories. Custom Disney fabric interior... Mini Mouse and Pluto stranded on an island with palm tress while Mickey rows a boat to save them. I eventually had a pair of custom boots made with the Disney characters on them. One day Rick Derringer was drunk and fell down the steps of the Garwood mansion in Detroit. He landed at my feet. He was all banged up from the fall but when we scraped him up, all he could talk about was my shoes. Like ten years later in New Orleans he was on a radio show interview about the concert he was giving that night. I called in to let him know that at least one Detroit rock fan was in New Orleans. He asked what part of Detroit, I asked if he remembered the Garwood? He said he loved the place. I told him of its' sad demise and mentioned my Disney shoes. . . he was laughing his ass off and gave me passes to his show.
BTW . . . the custom boot maker that made those was called "Stanley the foot sniffer". Times sure were different in the 70s.
ETA: The reason I had the custom shoes made was because I couldn't believe some pervert at Disney would put Mini and a dog in the cliche of being "all alone on deserted island together." Seemed so kinky in a TOS kinda' way.
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