Sex is boring. – Sid Vicious
I just didn’t get it at first. As a young girl growing up with a sexy, single mom within the liberated lifestyle of L.A.’s music industry, then as a teenager living in the sexploitative Disneyland known as Las Vegas, I was always surrounded by it. Of course, I can’t say I always knew what that Hitachi Magic Wand in my mom’s nightstand was for, or what all those half-naked girls with the really big hair were doing in the dark, smoky rooms backstage at concerts. But I had an idea.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t numbed by all that stimulus. Instead, I became obsessively curious. When I went with my mom to the mechanic and they argued over the highly technical nuances of our VW Bug’s engine, I used to sit at his desk and study intensely the plastic octagonal cube with couples in various Kama Sutra-inspired sexual positions.
As a pre-teen, I would pour over the letters in Penthouse, try to peer through the muddled images on the late-night soft-core porn channels and if my mom wasn’t yet home, I would stay on the phone with obscene callers and ask them questions.
I never considered it inappropriate. I just wanted some answers.
I knew about Ben Wa Balls, double-dong dildos and had seen Caligula well before I was considered nubile. Despite all this, I was one of the last of my friends to lose my virginity, just before my sixteenth birthday. And needless to say, I was more than disappointed when it finally happened. In fact, I thought something was wrong with me. While everyone bragged about their supposed weekend flings and sexperimentations, I thought sex—the actual physical act—was kind of a waste of time.
Sex is the most compressed set of circumstances that we’ve got. Everything is in that collision. – Arthur Miller
After a couple years of this blase feeling about missing something that seemed so important to everyone around me, I started to feel the pressure of unlocking the Great Sex Mystery. I started reading how-to manuals and erotic fiction religiously. I watched movies, too, but felt the porn at that time was too mechanical and the mainstream “erotic” films too romantic.
What my mom and other adults always said with a smirk was that “sex is only good with someone you love.” I always thought that was just a crock. Surely, sex would enhance a relationship but I knew that if done right, there had to be a certain amount of plain ol’ soulless physical pleasure involved. Right?
I thought that if I could just find my “type,” I would find sexual happiness. I tried the rocker, the jock, the brainiac—basically, the whole damn Breakfast Club. I tested different people, different scenarios, with various levels of feeling. You could say I was slutting out, but I was methodical about it. That was probably my biggest problem—I was thinking too hard.
Pleasure’s a sin and sometimes sin’s a pleasure. – Lord Byron
The first time I actually enjoyed sex was with “E.” I was 18, I think he was in his mid-20’s. We had been running in the same circles for years and I always thought he was… intriguing. He had painted the Native American murals at my high school (we were the Palm Springs “Indians”—not very PC), carried around a pocketbook of Allen Ginsberg poetry and lived alone on a ranch in the middle of the desert, when he wasn’t taking off on some mysterious road trip or following the Dead.
But he was no stinking hippie.
When friends introduced us at a party, he just stared at me without saying a word. I had just taken a handful of mushrooms and started to feel my skin tingle and flush—but I think it might’ve had more to do with E’s gaze than any psilocybic symptoms. I watched him through the crowd, laughing and socializing easily with his friends. But when the party ended, he took my hand and led me to his truck.
At the ranch, he silently removed my clothing and gently placed me on top of a long wooden platform in an empty stable. He then poured honey all over my body and, well…
Somehow that’s not what I had pictured happening backstage at Van Halen.
Samantha Campos has taken highly scientific tests to discover that she is not as sinful as the average person but will most likely die of poison from her gluttonous love of food and drink. MTW