Watching God Spin CloudsDeuxième partie

[su_section background=”#fcfced” parallax=”no” max_width=”930″ margin=”0px 0px 10px 0px” padding=”10px 0px 10px 0px” border=”4px double ” color=”#fcfced” text_align=”center” text_shadow=”1px 1px 2px #63635d” url=”https://www.sex-religion-politics.com/dancer-1/”]In Case You Missed PREMIÈRE PARTIE of Watching God Spin Clouds[/su_section]

Lapdog

Falling in love is a dangerous thing for a man. Not that it’s a smooth road for women. But a man MUST put his work first, or else he’s no man at all. He’s a lapdog for his beloved.

I knew that Natasha’s work came first. She was heaven bent on making a living through her dancing and choreography. And not just a living; she wanted to be rich and famous. Pshaw! Who doesn’t?

It’s usually the woman who sacrifices her career pursuits for the man’s. But not this woman! Natasha focussed on her mission. And I focussed on Natasha.

When Copernicus said, “The Earth revolves around the Sun, and not the other way around,” the powers that be said, “How dare you? You must die!” When an artist used elephant dung to depict the Virgin Mary, Rudy Giuliani said, in essence, “How dare you? You must die!” And when Natasha said, “I don’t wanna get married. In fact, I wanna have sex with whomever I want, whenever I want, without your permission, and without you being present,” I said, “Whatever you want, honey.”

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What better way to please a male chauvinist Pygmalion than with an unrefined hottie who likes to laugh and get naked?

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Yup! I became a total weenie. Because I had never felt this way before. And I had never before come across this situation. I had never felt feelings of total adoration and devotion to one woman. And not only that, I had never met a woman who had a harem. I had heard about such creatures in primitive societies. Maternalistic is the word used by anthropologists to describe the reverse of the normal Western order.

Harem Scare ‘im

I first met Natasha’s harem a year or so before we fell in love. That is, before Natasha and I fell in love. The harem and I merely tolerated each other. But every man should try at least one time having dinner with six or seven motherfuckers all competing at the same time for the same woman. There’s a scene in Terms Of Endearment not unlike what I experienced.

Something else you should know if you’re keeping score. The dancing queen and I were friends and theatre comrades for two years before we started having sex. I did video work for her; and she choreographed the shows I produced. I grew quite used to watching her work a room. She was a master of stealing the spotlight and never giving it back. In other words, she could walk into any group and take over.

And so it was without too much surprise that I attended one of her birthday gatherings to find that I was one of seven knights at a round table where Natasha, the only female, held court. We all pretended to like each other. Except for one poor fellow; younger than Natasha by five years or so. He just . . . wilted. Melted. Off the chair onto the floor under the table; despite the queen’s gracious attempts at bringing the pouting prince into the conversation. He spent the entire time picking at a piece of bread, unable to crack a smile or offer more than a grunt.