WOW

I'm busy drafting a Stranger column, and frankly, I'm a little wiped out from my busy weekend. But I wanted to at least start telling you about the last few days…

You see, Max is out of town right now. Every year he takes a driving trip down to California, because Max is something of a driving enthusiast. By which I mean: he likes to drive fast. Now, he's better qualified to do that than many people: He's got the expensive high performance car, and what's more important, he's also got a fair amount of professional drivers training and a lot of practice at the local track. Max is a damn good driver.

So he goes out and zooms around the mountain passes of California for a week, and I wish him a fond farewell, but I don't go on these trips with him. I'm too…well, you can call it "chicken", but I prefer to call it "a finely tuned sense of self-preservation". Either way, I just don't like driving at high speeds along twisty mountain roads. Hell, just driving around town with him, I all but wear a hole in his passenger-side carpet where the brake pedal should be. (Not that I drive like a little old lady myself, you understand. But that's different.)

The result is that Max takes Maura along on these trips, and I am left to amuse myself alone at home. Gee, I wonder what I'll do? Dum de dum de dum…Well, I wonder if I should arrange back-to-back, hot-and-cold-running boys, sex and debauchery all week long. Do you think that would be a good idea?

Yeah, I did too. So Roman and I have been referring to this as Matisse's Week of Wickedness - or WOW for short.

WOW KickOff: Friday Night - Roman and I attended one of the Little Red Studio parties. Jeff, the mastermind of LRS, is a friend of mine, and while I've been once before, it had been awhile. It's an unconventional and entertaining event, impossible to describe succinctly. The phrase "interactive sexual performance art" comes to mind, although none of the performers actually have sex.

I'd say that some of the fine points were lost on Roman and I, however – we found each other more interesting than the (indisputably attractive and talented) performers. Still, we did make a contribution to the evening. At one point, audience members are given little cards with suggestive acts written on them, and invited to perform those acts onstage. Some of them were things like "Make someone's nipples hard", and "Leave bite marks on someone". But Roman's read "Command someone to do your bidding". He needed no second invitation - Mr. Show Business sprung into character, pulled a sweet young thing out the shadows, and commanded her to kiss first the heel of my boot, and then the back of my knee, both of which she did quite nicely.

And she must have enjoyed it, because when her turn came, she read off her card in a trembling voice, "Invite your favorite sadist to spank you." And then she knelt down and looked across the room at me. "Mistress?" I bent her over a table and gave her twelve good strokes, and her firmly curved ass fit nicely into my hand.

As you may infer, Jeff has definitely created something unusual here, so if you're looking for some unique erotic entertainment, I'd check it out.

It certainly made for a charming few hours of verbal (and a little physical) foreplay for Roman and I – to be followed by several hours of the fulfillment of that foreplay. Delightful.

After that, there was only time for me to snatch a few hours of sleep before the next weekend event: Jake, dinner at Septieme, and a private party with my friends, all of which I'll tell you about presently.