Sometimes, however, in the dead of a lonely wakeful night when I was not sleeping with Jackson, I’d find myself thinking of those tedious and physically straining hours of posing. I’d remember, masturbate, and desire again the experience of being the center of attention in a room full of admiring eyes. I’d c*m, wracked by a resonating orgasm; they were as much cerebral as they were physical, going on for nearly an hour. At the same time, I vented my repressed passions in wild exploits with Jackson, I was venting at night what I couldn’t express by day. It took several weeks for me to realize that the power behind my s****l awakening was bigger than I could possibly have guessed at the outset. This gut realization made it easier to burst the façade I’d maintained in my rather tame and unins
