The married English WASP who actually used a cigarette holder! He was an executive with a large advertising agency, but always an aspiring writer. His novel, The Girl Watcher, was published while we were dating.
He liked to have sex with me in sleazy motels in Westchester. His wife was an entomologist, who spent 18 hours daily studying the social organziation of ant groups.
The handsome, charismatic art student who worked part-time as a security guard at the Museum of Modern Art. We had sex on a couch in a bedroom, while a wild party was going on in the host’s living room.
The skinny, Australian investment banker who said that my birth control foam smelled like Pabulum.
The much older advertising executive who liked for me to hold his penis when he peed.
My strict Southern upbringing held me back from so many fascinating opportunities, because the culture in which I was raised hammered [sledge hammer] in the importance of being a soft-spoken, gentle, self-effacing, well-mannered lady. And I always flourished at following the rules.
Rebellion was only possible later on in my secret life of men and questionable sexual mores.