On Lovers:

Bee was the first. She had a luxurious mane of curly chestnut hair that I never got tired of brushing, and exquisitely shaped lips that I was always fantasizing about kissing. I made thousands of drawings of her lips in the margins of notebooks, on scraps of paper...in the phonebook. Everywhere. Twenty-two years later, I can still draw them perfectly.

And then there was L., my first real girlfriend. The night we met, we literally kissed all night long. Dusk to dawn. I'd never slept with a woman in my arms before and even when I started to fall asleep, I couldn't stop kissing her. I didn't want to waste a second. Hey, L., we'll always have Columbus, right?

And She-Ra...whom I loved without reserve. I'd taken her to a motel (a horribly cheap one - I was a mere child and didn't know any better), and she'd showered and come to bed. I looked at her, sitting there with the blanket pulled up to her waist, and I knew at that moment that I'd never forget what she looked like just then. Hair still a little damp from the shower, face flushed with the heat, lips and cheeks pink, and hazel eyes shining. I'd never seen anything so beautiful.

There was another L., as well...soft, supple, sweet, and forbidden. She put lipstick on me that I immediately wasted by kissing her fervently until it was gone.

More later.