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Excerpt from
C'Mon Get Happy...Fear & Loathing On The Partridge Family Bus
Written by David Cassidy with Chip Deffaa
Published in North America in 1994 by Warner Books


Women began to ask me, after they met me, if the rumor about my dick was true: that I happened to have been rather well endowed, they told me. My penis became sort of legendary, in an underground sort of way. My brothers call me "Donk". It's their nickname for me. One fellow even published a book on the Hollywood scene that described me as pulling down my pants, and an impressed female fan gasping, "Oh, man, oh, man. You really have been blessed with a rock-and-roll cock."

Well, I don't know if I had been blessed with a rock-and-roll cock or not. But I decided that if I had it, there wasn't any point in just keeping it in the holster all the time. I'd have to let it out. And let it out I did. I also never thought I'd be writing all this private, embarrassing shit about it, either! I mean, okay. So I had a serious sexual appetite.

When I was in my early twenties to mid-twenties I was really raging. And as the pressures of my career mounted, I felt like, If I'm not going to be able to go down the street anymore, not going to be able to go to any public places, not going to be able to live life like a normal person -- at least I'm going to have sex. If people aren't going to know me as David Cassidy, fine -- at least I'm going to be me in my bedroom. There the real David Cassidy could live; and live well. And as soon as people started to talk to me, they'd find out I was not that guy on the TV show. I had much more adult thoughts and sexual fantasies.

Part of the game became: I can do anything, I can have anyone I want. I mean, come on, who wouldn't get turned on by that? I became fascinated with women who really enjoyed the art of giving oral sex. The dialogue became the aphrodisiac. The fact that they wanted me. I felt sexually aroused by their wanting to please me, wanting to satisfy me, wanting to touch me, wanting to be intimate with me... Being a guy with a very healthy sexual appetite -- a male in his twenties with a libido that wouldn't stop -- I was trying to realize my own fantasies.. As opposed to fantasizing about beautiful chicks while masturbating three or four times a day like a lot of younger males, I got to live out my fantasies.

But for me, the act of sexual intercourse represented a serious commitment, which oral sex did not. I could indulge in the fantasy with talk and oral sex, without feeling I'd really committed myself, in terms of time or emotion. So, not always but pretty nearly always I avoided sexual intercourse in these casual encounters. I even then had to feel a real connection before I'd sleep with them.

To me, the actual act of intercourse seemed like serious business. You took off your shoes, socks, pants -- which you didn't for oral sex. The girl would also have to stay for a while -- oh, shit! she might even want to stay the whole night! Which was not something I usually wanted. In addition, with intercourse, you risked knocking her up.

Nobody wore rubbers in those days. So I felt I had to be very careful if I actually had intercourse. (And sometimes I was. My friends and I also took antibiotics constantly -- our motto was we lived on brown rice, sex, and tetracycline -- which we figured would protect us from getting venereal diseases. Luckily I only got one case of gonorrhea and that was when I was in high school.) I didn't have a lot of intercourse, considering that it was available in such abundance. I still held on to this romantic concept, that intercourse should mostly be saved for meaningful relationships.

Well, okay. Maybe not meaningful. But at least I'd know their last name.


© 1994 by DBC Enterprises, Inc.