During the summer of 1980, just after my sophomore year in college, I was 19, stupid, and completely infatuated with my first boyfriend Fred. So when he finished his ministerial internship and got a job as a youth minister at a Methodist church in Omaha (actually Gretna, Nebraska, about 20 miles away), I dropped out of college and moved with him.
It was awful. We lived in a horrible apartment, I had a horrible job. The people were rude. I had to pretend to be Fred's "cousin." He had never had a live-in boyfriend before, so he became controlling and weird. After six weeks, I packed up my stuff and left.
My only positive memory from those six weeks is Michael Stevenson (not his real name), a boy from the youth group at church. A high school jock, about my height, very short brown hair, square face, nice chest. The other members of the congregation were standoffish and rude, but he always said "hello" to me and asked how I liked Gretna -- and one night Fred brought him over for dinner and "sharing."
I didn't know anything about sharing -- I had only been with a few guys, and never more than one at a time. And Fred didn't explain anything in advance. After dinner, when I finished putting the dishes in the dishwasher, I went out into the living room to find,,,,
The uncensored story, with nude photos and sexual content, is on Tales of West Hollywood.