My Celebrity Boyfriend and I Hook Up With....

West Hollywood, February 1987

Valentine's Day

I've been dating the Celebrity, a former teen idol (I promised not to reveal his name), for a little over a month, and he's met almost all of my West Hollywood friends: Alan, Raul, Marcus, Michael, Mitch, Thanh. But I've never met any of his.

Dating a celebrity, I naturally expected to do some "sharing" with his celebrity friends.  John Travolta, or Rob Lowe, or Ralph Macchio.... 

But he doesn't even introduce me to anyone.

Maybe tonight will be different.  "I'm going to go all out," the Celebrity promises.  "This will be the most memorable Valentine's Day of your life."

Wow!  What's memorable to someone who starred in his own tv show?


200 doves flying out of a cake?

A charter jet taking us down to Tijuana for dinner?

Scott Baio naked in his bed?

Breathless with anticipation, I arrive at his house at 6:00 pm

There's a note on the door: "Door's open.  Follow the trail."

I go in.  There's a trail of paper hearts across the living room and dining room and down the hall.

The dogs, Rory and Max, are whining at the back door.  I assume they've just finished a potty break.  So I let them in.

"No, they have to stay outside!" the Celebrity yells in the distance.

Too late.  They scamper across the house, me following, to the spare bedroom, where the Celebrity is lying naked on a heart-shaped rug.   His penis and testicles are pushing through a hole in a Valentine's Candy Box.  He's desperately yelling "Sit!  Sit!" and grabbing up the candy before Rory and Max eat it.

 "Um...hi...this didn't turn out to be as sexy as I thought."

The candy put away, he removes the box.  The dogs sit.  I kneel and pet them.

"No, it's great.  Really creative."  I lie beside him, and we kiss.

He springs to life.  I go down on him.

No offense -- it's very nice, average sized, beautifully shaped, cut, ruddy.

 But in the last month I've gone down on him about 30 times.  Ok, now 31 times.  I was hoping for something...or someone...a little different.

We move into 69 position.  Rory and Max whine.  "Out!" he commands.

When we've finished, we order Chinese food and watch tv.

"Sorry the Valentine's surprise was a bust," the Celebrity says.  "Let's do something else tomorrow night, to make up for it.  Anything you want."

"Well, to be honest...have you heard about the West Hollywood 'sharing' thing?  Where couples bring in a third, one of their friends?"

He grins.  "Sure.  I didn't think you were into that."

"I haven't really done it before, but I'd love to give it a try.  If you...you know, are into it."

"Sounds hot!  I'm turned on already."  He kisses me.  "You just sit back and let me make all the arrangements.  I'll take care of everything!"

I move my hand to his crotch.  He springs to life again.

32 times.

I spend the next day bubbling with excitement.  What famous face and physique will I be "sharing" tonight?  Tony Danza? Mr. T from The A-Team?  Scott Baio?

I knock on the door at 6:00 pm.  The Celebrity answers, and draws me into a kiss.

"Did you...."

"Get you a Valentine's present? Absolutely.  Up-to-date model, with lots of new features."

"You got me a new tv?" I joke.

"No, it's way bigger than a tv set."


"Um... jet skis?"

"No, but I'll give you a hint -- it has a retractable hose."

"Curioser and curioser."

"Shall we go check it out?"

He takes me by the arm and leads me to the bedroom.

My mind is racing.  Paul Michael Glaser?  Leif Garrett?  Ted Danson?

He opens the bedroom door.

Can you guess who we "shared"?

Answer after the break.

Alan the Pentecostal Porn Star is lying naked on the bed, a red ribbon tied around his penis.

No offense -- it's nice, very big, thick, with an enormous head.   But Alan is my best friend, ex-boyfriend, and roommate.  I've gone down on his Kielbasa+ around 50 times.

Well, now 51.  

See also: My Celebrity Boyfriend; Sharing the Director and His Cute Young Thing