My good friend, Michael, over at 2Blowhards, has been barnstorming the country in support of erotic stories written by him and his wife.
I’ll respond to various parts of Michael’s posting about his adventures throughout the day. First, I want to respond to his kind references to this blog in his post:
“In comments here and at his own blog, Shouting Thomas has argued that bigcity people have no idea how freely "squares" are enjoying sex these days. The old picture was that bigcity bohemians watch French movies and lead liberated lives, while the rubes are locked into CBS, NBC, misery, denial, and unhappiness.”
Throughout my blessed years with Myrna, I was challenged to rethink my most basic assumptions about life. She was so brilliant… and also lusty and adventurous and mischievous. For the first time in my life, I had trouble keeping up with a woman. She always wanted to see the scene, no matter how wild or crazy it might be. She had grown up with and around the Filipino gangs in Salem, Oregon, about as dead ass a hick town as you can imagine (although it is the state capital).
One of our favorite stops during our yearly visit to Oregon was Newport, a cowboy town and resort on the Pacific Coast. Newport always featured a rowdy establishment that moved from location to location to evade the police. That establishment featured a hard drinking rock and roll dive on the first floor, a seedy gambling parlor on the second floor, and a whorehouse on the third floor. Its clientele was fishermen and ranch hands.
Since Myrna had been a gang moll in her youth, she just had a nose for such places. If there was trouble to be found, she knew where to find it.
Continued here…
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