Private Parts (12 page)

On my way to the bathroom, I walked by the kitchen and I saw Alison talking to another girl. I looked in and I thought Alison looked great. She was just my type -- real cute, great thin body. Of course, I figured I'd never be able to get her, because it was only freaky fucked-up bitches who were into me, but I stuck my head in anyway

and said hello. She totally blew me off and went back to talking to her friend. I really wanted her to like me.

Alison, when I first met her.

I blew my hair dry and went back to the living room, where we were all hanging out. Lew and I started goofing on Alison's friend. We were asking her questions and then making fun of her answers. I was vicious and funny. I was doing a great radio performance, only I was Howard Stern without a show. I was doing this whole bit to show off my rapier wit for Alison's benefit but she was sitting there and she wouldn't open her mouth. Later I found out that she was afraid to say anything because we were doing such a number on her friend that she thought we'd do the same to her.

After a while, we left to go to the party and I told Lew that I really liked Alison but I didn't think she was into me. Lew, like a good friend, agreed with me. A couple of days later I ran into Alison at the Student Union and she was really friendly -- she actually talked to me. I still figured she wasn't really into me but this chance encounter gave me courage. So I came up with an elaborate scam. I had to do a junior film project for one of my courses. I decided to do an eight-millimeter documentary on Transcendental Meditation. I had to cast the film, so naturally, I would call Alison and ask her to star in it. This had to work. Everyone wants to be in a movie, right?

I called Alison and I said, "You've got a perfect face. You're my dream girl. You have to star in this movie I'm doing." I was babbling like a maniac to a girl I hardly knew. She said she was too busy to do it. I couldn't believe I was being rejected again, so I started begging her. She went into a long rap about a youth group she was working with as part of her social work program. She had to take some

kids to a funeral. "Fuck the funeral, this is a chance to star in a film that may get shown on a large screen in the student theater." I was cajoling her. I couldn't believe there was someone on the planet who didn't want to be in a film. Finally, to shut me up, she said that if I was really desperate and I couldn't get anybody else, she'd do it.

So I hung up, and two seconds later I called Alison back. "I can't find anybody to do it. You've got to do it," I begged her. "Your face is the right face for this movie!" So she said she'd do it.

We went out in the middle of the winter and I had her meditating on a rock and running around in a long, flowing dress, barefoot. Meanwhile, she was freezing to death but I was like a young Scavullo. I was telling her she was beautiful. The oldest trick in the world, but it was working!

I was so punch drunk from getting knocked around by women that I couldn't imagine someone this dynamite would be into me. But I was turning on all the charm, and she seemed to enjoy my company. The professors voted my film the best film of the year. I saw myself as the next Ingmar Bergman. Alison was definitely the girl for me, I told her, and we decided to go on a real date.

Alison's roommate Ilyse decided to dress Alison for this date, and she put together a nightmare outfit. Alison showed up wearing baggy green corduroy pants, tan work boots, a brown sweater, a tan

overcoat, and white gloves. But who cared? I wasn't going to let clothes ruin the night. She had her own car, so I figured she was rich. We went to dinner and then we went to see a movie --
Lenny,
the story of Lenny Bruce, starring Dustin Hoffman, which was a pretty good indication of our life to come. After the movie, I took her back to my place and I broke out the special wine stash -- a five-dollar bottle of Blue Nun.

I was living in a room the size of a closet, and I had a queen-size bed that took up almost the whole room. (My room was set

At home in my bachelor lair in Boston. The bed Alison and I partied on during our first date.

up for seduction.) We were forced to sit on the bed. We watched TV and sipped the wine and I made my move. We started making out. This was great! I couldn't believe she was into me. We got all the way to third base. I got four fingers buried in her, so I figured this was it and I withdrew my fingers and went to get the rubbers.

"No, I never have sex on the first date," she said.

"That's absurd!" I said. "Tell you what. I'll drive you home and pick you up two minutes later so it'll be our second date."

I had to have sex with her and close the deal, but she wouldn't bite. So she went home and I thought she was a little disappointed because she didn't want to piss me off. We both knew this was going to be a deep relationship. Sure enough, second date, we did it. I had my first normal girlfriend. I couldn't believe I was in a real boyfriend-girlfriend relationship. I was so into this that even when a gorgeous girl named Andrea invited me to a party, I didn't go because I didn't want to blow it with Alison.

We had been going out a month or so when Alison decided to bring me home to her parents. We drove to Newton, Massachusetts, and we pulled up to a huge house. I HIT THE JACKPOT! I had a great girl, she dug me, and her father was rich to boot. Alison told me that her father owned the Pullman Vacuum Cleaner Company. Her father even had a meeting with President Lyndon Baines Johnson!! Incredible! So we went inside and I couldn't believe how nice these people were to me. I had such a shitty

self-image that I would have thrown myself out and puked if I were a parent whose daughter brought me home. But they were really nice to me, and her mother cooked a huge roast beef dinner and we sat down to the table to eat.

My father-in-law, Bob, with LBJ. I figured I'd hit the jackpot.

At the table, Alison's younger brother Louie started getting into an argument with her father. In the course of the fight, he called his father an asshole. Now I was prepared for the worst. I was the "Shut

Up, Sit Down, You Moron" son. If I even called my father a schmo, he'd run after me and beat the shit out of me. But Alison's father, Bob, calmly turned to Louie and said, "Did you call me an asshole? Remember one thing. If I'm an asshole, then you're son-of-asshole." And they all cracked up. I couldn't believe the looseness of this household. What a difference from my prison camp upbringing.

After dinner Bob and I went into the den and I felt he was checking me out. Then he started talking to me about a book about cancer that he was reading and he seemed really depressed. I thought he
had
cancer, but I found out that he was depressed because he had sold his company to a big corporation and his two-year contract was expiring and they weren't going to renew it. So all of a sudden, they were leaving the house and moving to Florida and Alison's car was being repoed because it was a company car. And, of course, I thought, "There go my rich in-laws."

But I didn't care. I was totally into Alison. Within a week after our relationship began, I knew I was going to marry her. We had long discussions sitting in front of the library, where we would see a lot of old couples. "We're gonna be like those old people, growing old together," we would tell each other. And it was true. Every time I reject another
Penthouse
pet, that vision gets sharper and truer.

It's funny, but all the time that I've been with Alison we've never done it more than once a night. When we first started seeing each other, we'd have sex every night. The next few years, we'd average three to four times a week. After we got married and started having kids, it went down to twice a week. Now, after fifteen years of marriage, I'm lucky if I get laid twice a year.

College graduates. I learned a lot but not about facial hair.

But it's not just Alison's fault, I have to admit. Part of the time she was pregnant and I am just not into having sex with a mom, okay? I find nothing attractive about the pregnant form. I'm like Elvis. If a girl got pregnant, he couldn't go near her. There's something weird about a woman's belly moving during sex.

Then, after she gives birth, you've got to give it plenty of time to get back to normal. Don't volcanoes take hundreds of years to cool down? I mean, it's not even a vagina at that point, it's more like a garage door. We tried to do it once right after Alison had given birth to one of our daughters, but it was a disaster. We started to make love and I tried to touch her engorged breasts, but she wigged out.

"Don't go near those, they hurt!" she screamed. "Why don't you touch my arm instead?" Yeah, right. But I was getting aroused anyway and she got on top of me and she said, "I'm going to take my nursing bra off." I wanted to see her breasts because they turned me on. So she took off the nursing bra and she started spraying milk.

"Oh, I'm spraying all over you," Alison said.

"I don't care, let it spray!" I yelled. Two seconds later, I was soaked.

"You know what?" I said. "I do care."

So she had to climb off me and get the big sling-shot bra, and by the time she got that on, I had lost interest. Then she was hurt that I'd lost interest. It was a nightmare.

Alison and I have done only a few kinky things. One time I said, "Let's take a shower together, I'd really like to shave you." And she was bitching, "No, I don't want to. It gets all itchy and I get razor bumps and I'm uncomfortable."

But then she said, "Only if I shave you." And I said, "Fine. Anything. As long as you touch me."

I started shaving her. She started shaving me. Within a few seconds we were totally bored. She hated it. I hated it. We ended up just shaving ourselves. It was a nightmare.

Alison's favorite position is the missionary position. She'll never get up on all fours because she claims she has chondromalacia of the knee -- some kind of rare problem that makes her joints swell and ache. Meanwhile, she's out every day with her yenta friends playing tennis, bouncing around like a circus clown on her allegedly weak knees. It doesn't take a Sherlock Holmes to figure out that she's horseshitting me. And we're definitely into only one entrance, too. Occasionally, Alison will favor me with some oral sex, but in all the

time we've been together, she's never swallowed my male issue. She was a trouper and tried to on our ten-year anniversary but she almost gagged. It was the most unattractive thing. She was retching for five minutes. Still, I don't blame her. I can't understand girls who swallow semen, anyway. I feel bad for them. I could never swallow it.

And forget about ever seeing her third input. It's funny because, when we first got married, I never even thought about anal sex. Who knew you could even do it there? But with the advent of porno tapes, I started thinking about a little assplay and I went back in my mind to Patty and how exciting it was back there in that tent when she tried a digital insertion, even if I was too uptight to realize it at the time.

So one night I approached Alison. We were in the middle of sex and I asked her if I could do the deed in her butt.

"I don't think I want that, not tonight," she said. "Some other time, I promise."

Every night I asked and I kept getting the same answer. Finally, after a couple of years, I asked her if she had ever done that there.

"I don't remember," she said.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON'T REMEMBER?" I exploded. "I remember every time my mother stuck a goddamn thermometer up my ass."

"Really! I don't remember."

"How can you not remember getting fucked in the ass?"

"I don't know, I think someone tried once," she finally admitted. What I figure is someone did fuck her in the ass and it was a disaster. All I know is that there's no drug or liquor strong enough on the planet Earth to get her to do that. I even tried to ease her into it by sticking a finger or two up there but she freaked out and said she was uncomfortable. Finally, I asked her if she would do that to me. I even went on my TV show and during a takeoff on "The Newlywed Game" that we called the Sternlywed's Game, I said that the one thing I'd like to do sexually that my wife won't do is have fingers up the butt. Still nothing. So far, she's gotten as far as spreading my cheeks apart. It got so bad that I tried to do it myself one night when I was in the shower. I lathered up my butt and put my finger up there, but I didn't get turned on.

We even tried bondage to add a little spice to our sex life, but that was a disaster, too. One night I tied Alison's ankles and wrists with

my neckties. She was afraid that the kids would come up and disturb us. Alison wasn't a good subject for bondage.

"This is uncomfortable," she started whining. "My circulation's getting cut off. And that voice you put on when you tied me up was weird." How could she not like it? That was my love voice. It sounds like a cross between Dracula and Barry White.

I tried to spank her, but that was even worse.

"Get out of here!" she screamed. I felt so stupid, I had to untie her. She was pissed off that I was doing stuff to her that she didn't want me to do. I had to explain to her that the whole point of tying someone up was so that you could do stuff that you don't normally do. The whole fun of it was being at someone's mercy. She didn't give a shit. We ended up doing the same old things we always did.

The greatest aid to salvaging what was left of our sexual life was the vibrator. The vibrator came into our lives a few years ago when Robin gave us one as a gift. And we needed it. When we first met, Alison would get wet instantly. After a few years of sex it took like an hour rubbing Alison's clitoris before she would get hot for me. I just like to fuck. At my age, I don't really have the time for foreplay. Why can't she be instantly wet and ready to go? When we got the power tool, it was like magic. I could just lie there and not do anything to her and she'd have an orgasm instantly.

And what a vibrator! You strap it onto your hand. It's called the Swedish Massager. I put it on and I looked like RoboStern. I'd lie on my side, kiss Alison a few times, touch her with the vibrator, fuck her, and five minutes later I'd be asleep. Perfect. Life was good.