"After the chipper little pianist tired of his operettas, someone put on Johnny Mathis and we all danced cheek to cheek. Bradley of course insisted on leading and he planted his size 14 hand on the small of my back and with a wink that looked like a neurological tic kept edging his long fingers down the back of my pants. He asked me if I was campaigning for Nixon. "He was an enthusiastic kisser with lots of saliva and a tongue as active as an electric eel. When my hand brushed his crotch 'by accident,' I discovered under the cashmere another considerable charm of his person. I was willing to ignore the Nixon comment and make a date." - Legendary gay author Edmund White, from an almost too frank (you'll see what I mean) essay titled What I Remember About My First Republican Fuck.
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