Adonis Diaries

Twenty Kitties around Josephine (Written in November 2002)

I met her at the Zanzibar, a dancing night club.

A club in a hole of a University town.

I’m told the town has expanded so much it is almost a city.

Fate of any town, close to a major city.

She was with a couple of her girlfriends,

Like them, in their late thirties’ or mid-forty’s.

Josephine was pretty, skinny with reddish long hair.

She was looking surreptitiously at me and I invited her for a dance.

We danced a lot, crazily,

And the slow dances were slow, tight and erotic.

We had a date the next day.

She came a little late as it should be.

Josephine parked her old, heavy, noisy and yellow American car

In front of my apartment complex.

It was my friends’ apartment from Tunisia and Morocco.

They were on an extended trip.

She just had had her hair cut short a la garcon, a major let down.

She was wearing a short white, very short and thongs.

Her legs were very skinny

And her skin was English white and pink around the knees.

I felt a surge of shame:

A lady her age should have a moderate sense of modesty.

People might rightly assume a money transaction in that visit, which was not.

Josephine inspected the premise quickly and indicated a room of her liking.

I objected lamely that my friend might object and she did not insist.

We went to the living room and she took off her scant cloths.

We threw pillows on the gray carpet for bed.

Abruptly, Josephine proposed the back intercourse, position and hole.

I recovered my senses while reasoning that there is always a first after all.

She leaned over a sofa

And I enjoyed the view of her smooth, round and pinkish behind.

That part of hers looked in her twenties in that posture.

In the meanwhile, I asked her if she is enjoying it.

“Not really, it is as I need to shit.” She said.

A serious inquiry was appropriate since she proposed this position.

I refrained at the last second feeling quite sure

That Josephine had idiosyncrasies about Arabs’ preferences.

We moved to our makeshift bed and resumed a long late foreplay.

We were tender, affectionate and delicate.

Josephine proposed a joint and I admitted that a unique draw is enough for me.

I recall the first time I smoked a joint.

I was in a convertible Alfa Romeo with two guys.

We were heading toward the lake at a summer night.

My friends were having a great time, speeding and listening

To “Leila”, a guitar song played by Eric Clapton.

They laughed a lot

And I had a hell of problems keeping the lids of my red eyes open.

I twice experienced smoking a joint in groups, never alone,

To train myself for a better fit among smokers.

Once, my friends had to leave without me to see a movie and dance.

When they returned 4 hours later,

I was still lying on the sofa, my eyes closed shut, listening to music,

Trying to differentiate the timbers among the different musical instruments.

The third instance was in a park, close by my apartment,

Enjoying an afternoon open concert in a beautiful summer day.

I woke up the park empty and dark already.

I walked my bike home.

Josephine finished off the joint in a delicious rapture.

I discovered the positive side effects of taking one draw:

I felt myself a regenerated stud to the satisfying appreciation of Josephine.

We had another go at love and I bathed in her glowing face and young smile.

I understood then the saying: “Love makes young”.

She had finished a second joint and I inhaled one puff.

I inserted a finger, then a second, then a third.

She was moaning softly and continuously.

When my whole tiny hand was in her,

Her moaning rose to an additional octave for a long time

And I got scared.

I asked her whether she was all right.

She opened her eyes as from a long dream.

I felt stupid and regretted cutting short whatever she was experiencing.

I also regretted the deficiencies of males in that pleasurable sport.

Josephine told me that she is keeping two dozens of cats in her home.

She had a name for every cat.  She is well versed

On the psychological character and behavior of every single cat of hers.

I felt curious and asked her when am I going to visit her.

She categorically denied me any visit and I felt totally relieved.

I intended not to tell my friends about this visit

But the Moroccan guy found out from a girl friend of his.

He was pissed off and I exacerbated the situation

By gloating that we tried every corner of the apartment, including his bed.

My Moroccan friend avoided me then for months.

He did not feel handicapped about pissing in the lavatory.

I didn’t mind:  I believe they had started treating waste water.

Josephine introduced me to her married son at Zanzibar.

It was a planned surprise from her.

Her son behaved properly and shook my hand.

Josephine invited me to her girlfriends’ house too.

She was fluttering around the place chatting and singing.

She was displaying her beau.

She sat on my laps, hugged me and kissed me all the while.

I felt intimidated and absolutely awkward.

I sat stiff and stoic.

I could not join the group in their intimate relationships.

I felt a certified self-centered ignoramus

Amid lively butterflies, though older and oversized.

I am sorry that I failed befriending these ladies, real ones for a change.

Josephine moved with a black man,

A handsome, friendly addict and a drug pusher.

He lived at her home with the kitties around.

Marvin ended up in prison 

And Josephine had to bail him out.

Josephine was alcoholic but she was fighting courageously

For her rights to have the most pleasures in this lifetime.

She won the battle.

Josephine learned not to discriminate against origins, races or colors.