Chapter 3 Page3 - Who Am I

My journal. Who would have thought writing could be so exciting? What has gotten into me? Nah, I think it's because I have time on my hands and there's nothing to do. The old girls – the ones who have been living here before – have extra-curricular activities, while Mama is entertaining the two new ones. No, I don't want to join them.

I am just shy of 6 feet in height, with black hair, black eyes, a tall nose and a wide mouth. I am not athletic but can last more than two rolls in the hay, consecutively, thanks to Melanie's expert training on durability. My area of expertise is going deep. (Naughty grin!)

Okay, okay, enough of that. What will my professor say when he reads this at the end of the semester? He'll probably report me for being a pervert. Or worse, put me in jail for being a s*x maniac.

Not that I am one. At least I don't consider myself to be one. I have been with just one woman – yes, as unbelievable as it sounds – I have been nothing but faithful to Melanie in the past two years. It was Melanie who introduced me to this wonderful, pleasurable, unbelievably satisfying activity, and I miss her so!

Who is Melanie? To be able to explain who she is to me, I need to start at the beginning.

In the beginning – isn't that the way some stories start? It's better than the overused “Once upon a time..” (Jos, get with it!)

It all started with my dad. He was my idol. His mantra was, “Do it right (or wrong) the first time, and deal with it!”

And one day, he did. He ran off with his male secretary and he never looked back, nor kept in touch to ask even just how we were.

I was just in the fifth grade, but in a way, that experience helped me a lot. For one thing, I learned early what “s*xual orientation” was all about, and that I was what was called “straight”. Later on, I would add another term to it – “straight heteros*xual”, though it did sound like a double positive or something, like being “straight straight”.

My dad was what they called a “bis*xual leaning towards being homos*xual”. This was the most confusing of all orientations, according to a book I'd found in the school library, and which I'd squirreled away into a rat hole I'd created in a dark corner near the bathrooms. Imagine, finding a book all about s*xual education in a grade school library!

Given my state of mind, though, I didn't complain. I'd just excuse myself to go pee, then “accidentally” bump into a shelf in my haste, pretend to pick up the books but actually just “my” book, and pop into the bathroom. Coming out, I'd just do everything the other way around. Surprisingly, no one was ever the wiser and it made for perfect private reading material, I tell you that.

So back to my dad. He was working as a manager in a company that supplied manpower services for construction, truck repair businesses and mechanical engineering companies. Man-stuff. Male-oriented services. Even with women's empowerment movements and feminism advocacies gaining the world interest, it was obvious that these types of companies still preferred to hire MEN.