back in 1972 I’m hitchhiking in Big Sur on the way to LA. A pick-up stops for me. Two women in the front. One bull dyke and her fem GF. They ask if i want to camp with them. I said why not and splurged on a jeroboam of Gallo White. We set up camp in a grove of redwoods and drank wine around a fire. The bull dyke said she hadn’t had a man in years. She looked like a sumo wrestler. The younger one was in the mood too. She was thin and cute. I thought this would be interesting but it developed that sex with the bull dyke was more pleasurable than the fem.
So there’s no accounting for taste
either in love or lust.
The bull dyke had her way with me like a rented mule for several days and I escaped one evening while her rested her libido.
I hitchhiked down to LA and said nothing of this story to my gay friends.
Those beauty hounds would have been horrified.
two weeks later I’m walking on Black’s Beach in SD. It’s a naked beach. My straight friend heard the story and said, “I don’t know why you ran away.”
“Because I got the feeling she was sucking the life out of me and they’d be nothing left.”
“How bad could it be?”
At that moment I looked to the right.
“Shit.”
It was the bull dyke and her girl friend.
She was checking me out like I was a piece of meat. I cupped my hands over my privates and waddled away to safety.
Later that evening I relieved the tension with a fantasy of her. I went down to the beach the rest of the summer without ever running into her.
Lust lost