Mauvy Turina was impossible. She berated me and did everything she could to humiliate me in public. Nothing I did was right.

    She spent hours in meditation and yoga posture, but what she really needed was hours in a kick boxing class. She would say that she wanted to live in a world of peace and harmony under the guise of the mother goddess, drumming in a circle, praying at the water's edge and living off a diet of raw vegetables, grain and green tea.

    But she hated all men. She hated her father, her brother and her ex-husband. And she hated me.

    I put up with her humiliation and insults for one reason only.

    It was the best sex I ever had.

    Under the covers, we were like monkeys in a cage gone berserk, smashing into the bars and walls, thrashing against the sides of our cage, shredding our bodies and flesh. We had that push-each-other-down-on-the-floor, slapped-each-other-around, hold-each-other-down-by-the-wrist and spit-in-your-face kind of sex.

    Okay, well not the spit in your face part. We never got that far. Yet. The dirtier and sweatier and smellier, the better. We struggled for who would be on top. We struggled for who would be on bottom.

    Mauvy was the worst combination of woman in the world. Or the best combination of woman in the world. Passive aggressive. Catholic. Raped by her father. Looking to sexually and physically dominate all men. Artistic, intelligent and wealthy. Redhead and Cuban.

    As she worked me over with her fist and tongue she would yell at me, calling me the name of her ex-husband, blacken my eye at the peak of my pleasure. During one of her most intense orgasms, I slapped her and told her I enjoyed fucking her husband more than her.

    This woman refused to be loved. She once told me, "If you want love and affection, get a dog." I did. She wanted to bring my dog into the act, but I loved that dog more than her. So we use each other's bodies to commit all modes of bestiality upon each other.

    However, she did teach me how to cook pasta.

    Our favorite dish being pasta de la noche.

    After going at each other for several hours, and you don't have to call it making love. After passing out in a satisfied stupor, and then you both wake up in the middle of the night, and you're starving for food, for nourishment, from hunger, from sexual appetite. You need pasta de la noche.

    Pasta de la noche is made by opening the refrigerator and taking out whatever is inside. Olive oil, onions and herbs, whatever you have. With that you make your pasta sauce.

    It doesn't matter how it's made, pasta de la noche is the best pasta in the world.