For some hos, turning in their V-card was an awkward and uncomfortable experience and if they could take a Magic Eraser to the part of their brain that holds that memory, they would. But Shirley Maclaine’s daughter Sachi Parker might have all of us beat. When you get your cherry plucked, the last thing in the world you want to do is talk about it with your mom and two grown ass strangers. You just want to wash your fuck parts out in the sink with hand soap and then eat a Yodel while writing about your first time in your Lisa Frank journal.
Shirley and Sachi’s relationship has always been on and off and they’re not exactly the closest. Sachi says that Shirley shipped her off to live with her dad in Japan when she was just 2 and barely made an appearance in her life. Then when Sachi was 17, Shirley suddenly wanted to get closer and by “closer” I mean “let me sit in the next room while your cherry gets popped” kind of close. In Sachi’s new memoirs, Lucky Me: My Life With – And Without – My Mom, she writes that when she was 17, Shirley invited her and her then boyfriend Brad to California. When Sachi and Brad got to Shirley’s house, Shirley introduced them to her friends, Phyllis and Eberhard Kronhausen, who were sex therapists. You know where this is going and no, I don’t like it either. I’ll let the Daily Mail take the crazy hippie fuckery from here:
Sachi says Phyllis told her mother: ‘It would be a fabulous opportunity for Sachi, to have her first introduction to sex with all of us here as a support group. We could talk about it afterwards and validate her feelings.’
As Sachi flushed with embarrassment, she says her mother declared: ‘I think it’s a wonderful idea. We’re all here to help you, sweetheart.’
Now 56, Sachi says that helpless to oppose the three ‘powerful’ adults, she ‘felt like Mia Farrow surrounded by the satanists in Rosemary’s Baby’ and they watched as she and Brad left for the bedroom.
She writes: ‘Once our mission was accomplished, we had to face the next hurdle: reporting back. We hid out in the bedroom until we heard a light knock on the door, and Mom’s voice, “Is everything OK in there?’’ ’
Shirley’s agent said that he hasn’t read the book, but that whole scene doesn’t sound like her.
I bet that halfway through, Shirley knocked on the door and was like, “Are you kids okay? Can I get you anything? Some milk and cookies, some lube or maybe a nice warm cum rag? I hope you’re not doing your homework in there. You better be fucking!” If I was Sachi, I would’ve just faked orgasm noises and come out and said that I came 10 times, he barebacked me in the butt, Dirty Sanchez’d me a few times, hog tied me, whipped me and broke my ass bone in 6 places. I love it all. The end.
I swear, Hollywood hippie bitches are so weird! Parents aren’t supposed to tell their kids to fuck while they wait in the next room. They’re supposed to pretend that they don’t know that their kid is boning their piece in the bedroom closet while biting on a pillow to muffle the sounds. That’s what normal parents do! These bitches…