Skip to content, or skip to search.

Skip to content, or skip to search.

Love and Air-conditioning

ShareThis

Sex With My Boss, and His Brother
By Stacy Horn

It was the summer of 1975 when I had bad sex on top of a bar, after everyone else had gone home. My only excuse is that I was 19, and really, that’s all the excuse I need.

I was working at a discothèque-restaurant in Amagansett, and he was only the second person I had had sex with in my life. The first guy was so good and so sweet I stayed with him all though high school. We’d only broken up when I went away to college because I wanted to explore.

The guy on the bar constituted my first “exploration” and my first mistake. First, he was my boss. Worse, I wasn’t even attracted to him. He was older, that was interesting, but he had an icky seventies Hugh Hefner look and attitude that was dated even then. We had sex, it was awful, I pretended it wasn’t, and that would have been that.

Except then his youngest brother asked me out. I said no. He kept asking. By the end of the summer we were in love, and at some point he asked me to marry him and I said yes. I had told him at the start about my night with his brother, and he very understandably was not thrilled about it. His large Catholic family, who all knew, called me a slut. “Is there still such a thing?” I asked.

Eventually I got tired of defending myself and called off the marriage. The bar burned down not long after. A friend and I drove all the way out in the winter in order to see it and gloat. I still have a picture of that friend, posing with a blackened cocktail glass.


Stacy Horn is the author of Unbelievable: Investigations into Ghosts, Poltergeists, Telepathy, and Other Unseen Phenomena from the Duke Parapsychology Laboratory.


Advertising
Current Issue
Subscribe to New York
Subscribe

Give a Gift

Advertising