I didn't have a steady clique when I was in school. Maybe that had to
do with my irritating personality or that I was not very loyal or
something like that. On the weekend, If I couldn't work out a date,
which was my preference, I would usually try to play
catch-as-catch-can with the various groups of friends that I kept a
toe in with. There was a group of friends from Santaquin that my best
friend had been friends with since they were little and they would
let me come play if I was with him. They didn't seem to like me per
se and I was never invited on my own but they were pretty cool
for homebodies. One night I was hanging out with my friend when a
girl who was well beyond on the wild side for our small town invited
us over to watch a movie and we had nothing to do so we decided to
go. The other kids where heading over there so there would be five of
us guys and one girlfriend. The guy with the girl was a tall spindly
dude and his girl was more round making for a perfectly cliché Jack
Sprat type situation. Well, that would be exactly what they were like
if Jack Sprat and his girlfriend were extremely libidinous and also
religiously conservative so as to not do anything to too effective
about it. The movie our hostess was showing was the most naughty
mainstream movie of the day which none of us could have seen in the
theater or in our own homes – Sharron Stone's Basic Instinct.
It is a flimsy movie which depends on sex and violence to aid in
suspension of disbelief. Early into the movie the couch stated to be
occupied by not just my friend and I but the whumpy, humpy
convulsions of young frustrated love. They were slopping around each
others faces and grinding together which ever bits they could get to
align. At first they were furtive but constrained and kept within
their two allotted seats on the couch but before long the
conflagration of young love consumed them and the concept of personal
space was neglected and I was most definitely hit with a hip or
bottom and jostled while I tried to see what exactly the nudity in
the film was all about. I said something about it in a mildly sassy
way and then the friend to the other side got wriggled onto and he
fled the couch. I went to sit in the lazy boy recliner with our
hostess who took that as a sign that I wanted to make out a little
myself, I did not. I gently rebuffed her and tried to focus on the
various sexy states of undress Sharon Stone and her co-stars were
getting up to while the contortions of lust worked to a slobbery and
noisy mess on the now abandoned couch. We finished out the movie and
it ended as improbably as it had begun and when the credits rolled
the two on the couch looked up for air disheveled and yet
unsatisfied. It was horrific and nasty and when there was no more
chance to see a naked woman I excused myself and avoided any further
nights out that would include those two and their private public
romping parties.
