Oh, Hell -- Take a Wild Guess For reasons I didn't understand then and still don't understand now, I laughed -- a pure, almost innocent, almost childlike laugh -- as I ejaculated inside Kiki Newman for the first time. We had spent most of the party together and alone. Not huddled in a corner for privacy or off in an unused room somewhere. No, we were alone together in the middle of it all, right in the thick of it. People milled about us, occasionally bumped into one of us, but no one spoke to us. No one even looked at us. We were invisibly visible, present while absent. Out of synch enough with the universe that we had the party to ourselves, snagging the occasional wine or beer or canapé from a passing server for sustenance. I wish I could say that at some point during the night she became "Just Kiki," that at some point I became unaware of her superstar status. That her smile became just another smile, her laugh just another laugh. But that would be a lie. I was keenly aware of the essence of her, of her fame, of the sheer size of her the entire time we talked.
